Kazuki gathered what remained of his dust, forming it into a swirling vortex between them. "You're clever," he admitted, voice strained. "But you can't approach me without walking through this. And we both know what happens when you touch my dust."
Noah studied the vortex, noting its uneven density and erratic movement. Kazuki was struggling to maintain control.
'He's exhausted too. This is his final play.'
Noah didn't respond verbally. Instead, he took a deep breath, gathering his remaining chi into his core. Then, with deliberate precision, he extended his hand, palm facing outward.
Kazuki tensed, expecting an attack.
But Noah simply pushed his chi outward in gentle, rhythmic pulses—like ripples on a pond.
The dust vortex began to waver, its rotation faltering as it synchronized with Noah's chi waves.