Two Breakers stepped out from the elder's side.
The first was built like a wall, with arms that looked like they'd been carved from cliffs. His domain flared the moment he stepped forward, gravity lurching in waves around him like invisible pulses.
The second was leaner—tactical. His domain focused on manipulating terrain, making each step heavier, sticking air to your limbs like honey when he wanted to. Breaker domains weren't meant to suppress—they were meant to reshape your movement.
"Begin," said one of the attending elders.
And the arena changed.
The brute lunged first, his step cracking tiles underfoot, aiming to end it quick. Nel snapped her whip low—too low—and forced him to stagger back to avoid catching the ankle. I moved through his shadow, already past him before he could swing again.
The leaner one tried to pivot around me, his domain flaring to throw off my balance. It almost worked. Almost. But I took the awkward step and used it, slipping past the delay with a half-spin and lifting a knee straight to his chin.
He blocked, but his footing was off. That was all I needed.
Nel kept dancing just behind the brute's reach, never fully committing—just disrupting. Her strikes weren't powerful, but they were precise. Knuckles, tendons, ribs. Every lash bought me space. Every snap dragged one enemy's attention just enough.
It wasn't chemistry.
It was rhythm.
There were no calls. No cues. We just… moved.
I felt it—how close they came. How narrowly fists missed my throat. How perfectly I dodged without looking. How a small breeze redirected one of their limbs just wide.
Was that me? I wondered.
No—was that the manual?
Ever since my mother passed me the Fortune Clan's luck archives, something subtle had changed. I wasn't stronger. Not really. But things lined up better. Like dice loaded just enough to shift odds—one roll at a time.
I sidestepped a gravity spike and ducked under a sweeping kick, my body moving before thought. Just in time. Always just in time.
"Push them!" the elder barked. "Expand your range!"
The leaner Breaker snarled and flared his domain full-throttle. Gravity spiked in all directions, trying to anchor the fight.
That was the mistake.
The brute's movement froze for half a beat—long enough.
Nel's whip lashed out and looped his wrist. She pivoted hard, used his imbalance, and yanked him into a spin before locking his arm. The twist came fast. The fall faster.
She wrapped her leg under his and rolled him straight into an armbar, her elbow grinding against his as he howled.
Tap.
Silence.
The leaner Breaker tried to react, but I was already there. I didn't even punch. I just flowed behind him—stepped where his balance failed him and stopped with one hand at his neck.
He froze. Sighed. Then raised both hands.
Yield.
Cheers didn't come instantly. First came stillness. Then muttering. Then the roar—genuine. Confused. Loud.
Breakers murmured among themselves. The Zodiacs exchanged glances. The Fortune name wasn't just respected now—it was feared.
Nel stood and helped her opponent up without a word.
I returned to my swords, picked each up slowly, and slung them over my back.
We didn't speak on the way out.
We didn't need to.