The following afternoon, Ethel waited inside the sparring room for his opponent.
The door opened.
Bing walked in wearing her official combat uniform, and Ethel immediately noticed what was different.
Every step she took was accompanied by the sound of metal striking the floor.
Her combat boots were her weapon.
"I told you before," Bing said, tapping the heel of one boot against the ground. "I'm not a boxer."
She settled into her stance, gloved fists raised.
"Wait for the signal. And make sure your Concept is ready, Ethel."
Then—
the mock battle began.
Ethel had expected Bing to charge immediately with the same overwhelming opening she'd always used in training, denying him the initiative.
Instead, she merely circled a short distance away, lightly shifting her footing as if waiting for something.
"I thought you'd rush me with your rapid punches and knock me down before I could react."
"In a real fight, charging someone before you know their Concept is practically suicide."
She tilted her head.
"So... is your Concept active?"
"What do you think?"
Seeing that she had no intention of making the first move, Ethel seized the initiative.
He had always preferred attacking first.
If she was willing to hand him the opening, he'd gladly accept it.
Force exploded through his legs.
In the blink of an eye, he was already in front of her.
Seeing him charge almost completely exposed, Bing frowned.
"That's a terrible habit on the battlefield."
She casually dodged his slash before driving an upward kick toward his chin.
Because he'd been prepared, the tip of her boot only grazed him.
Even that slight touch carved a deep cut across his jaw.
Ethel ignored it entirely.
He continued attacking.
His strikes were swift and relentless, every slash aimed at a vital point.
For someone as experienced as Bing, simply avoiding them wasn't difficult.
She was merely waiting for the perfect moment to counterattack.
Finally, she found it.
As Ethel slashed horizontally toward her neck, Bing raised a hand to intercept.
Seeing the opening, Ethel poured even more Force into his dagger, intending to smash straight through her defense.
The instant the blade touched her palm—
something strange happened.
The Force he'd just infused into the dagger vanished.
Instantly.
Without Force, the dagger became nothing more than an ordinary piece of metal.
Her glove stopped it effortlessly.
The momentary hesitation gave Bing exactly what she'd been waiting for.
Her boot slammed into Ethel's abdomen, launching him backward.
"Nicely done," she said casually.
"Most people focus so much on reinforcing their weapons that they neglect the rest of their bodies."
"But you maintained full-body reinforcement the entire time."
"It's exhausting..."
"...but it's also the best defensive option."
Listening to her relaxed tone, Ethel realized she still wasn't taking the fight seriously.
She even had enough composure left to critique his fighting style.
"If you won't tell me your Concept..."
"I'll just figure it out myself."
She lunged forward.
"Dance of Annihilation."
Bing's body moved like that of a gymnast.
She flipped, spun, and danced across the arena with astonishing agility.
Combined with the incredible speed she'd honed through years of training, it became impossible to predict where her next attack would come from.
Even whether she'd strike with her fists or her legs was impossible to tell.
Ethel could only remain where he was, holding his breath.
Like prey cornered by a hunter,
he waited helplessly for the killing blow.
The first attack came from outside his field of vision.
A clean strike slammed into his left arm.
Originally, Bing had been aiming for his head.
Only at the last possible instant had Ethel twisted away, sacrificing his arm instead of being knocked unconscious.
"What a shame."
Bing's voice echoed from somewhere nearby.
"If that had landed, the match would've been over."
She had already retreated after connecting, refusing to leave herself exposed.
Her dance had already begun again.
Searching for the next opportunity.
Ethel's left dagger clattered onto the floor.
He realized immediately—
his left arm was probably broken.
It hung limply at his side.
Yet thanks to that sacrifice...
he finally understood her ability.
When vision failed,
touch still revealed the truth.
Even though he'd been struck by a metal boot, the Force protecting his arm should have limited the damage to a fracture.
Instead, his arm had become completely useless.
At the instant of impact...
he had clearly felt two attacks.
The first was nothing more than a light touch.
Just like what had happened to his dagger earlier, the Force protecting his arm had been erased.
Then came the second strike—
the kick itself.
Without Force reinforcing it, his arm had taken the full impact.
"Vice-Captain Bing..."
Ethel steadied his breathing.
"Your Concept removes Force itself... doesn't it?"
The word Annihilation meant complete destruction.
Concept: Annihilation erased every trace of Force from whatever it touched, stripping away all reinforcement.
Bing smiled.
"Very clever."
"But what are you going to do about it?"
She attacked again.
This time she targeted his right side.
Once again—
a touch...
followed immediately by a devastating kick.
Ethel tried replacing the erased Force by redirecting the Force circulating elsewhere through his body.
It didn't work.
The moment the connection was severed, it was like a broken network.
No matter how much Force remained elsewhere, it couldn't reach the affected area.
He barely managed to keep from vomiting up his lunch.
He knew another clean hit would finish him.
Then—
before he realized it—
Bing's left hand was already resting against his face.
What followed was the technique that had defeated him countless times during training.
The unavoidable—
Twelve-Strike Straight.
"Mind's Eye... fully open."
Left. Left. Right. Up. Left. Right. Down. Down. Up. Right. Left. Left.
"...What?"
Bing couldn't stop herself from blurting it out.
Ethel avoided every single punch.
Effortlessly.
Never in her life had she seen anyone evade all twelve strikes.
Much less a rookie who had joined only days ago.
That single moment of disbelief created the smallest opening.
Ethel immediately counterattacked.
His remaining dagger flashed toward her.
To someone whose greatest strength was speed, that attack posed no threat.
She dodged it easily.
Just like the only match she'd ever lost against him during training—
the slash was merely a feint.
Using the instant of hesitation caused by her surprise, Ethel extended his arm over her head—
and released the dagger.
"Damn."
Bing leaped backward, ending her dance.
A dagger had pierced straight through her left palm.
Blood streamed down her hand.
She pulled the blade free and inspected the wound.
It had entered almost horizontally, nearly splitting her palm in two.
At first glance, it didn't seem like a major problem.
After all, she fought primarily with kicks.
But Bing knew better.
Her fighting style relied on planting her hands on the ground repeatedly during her acrobatic movements.
With this injury...
she could no longer perform her dance.
"You're a crafty one."
She looked at him with a grin.
"You waited until the very last moment to activate your Concept."
"Tell me its name."
"I already know what it does."
"Concept: Heart."
Ethel picked up the dagger he'd dropped with his remaining hand and calmly faced her.
Objectively speaking, he was at a severe disadvantage.
He'd already taken two devastating blows.
But now that his Concept was active...
he had completely avoided Bing's deadliest technique.
Which meant landing a third decisive hit would become extraordinarily difficult.
Even so...
there wasn't the slightest hint of surrender in Bing's eyes.
"So your Concept isn't always active."
Ethel nodded toward her wounded hand.
"And you threw away one of your weapons..."
"...just to test that?"
"I wasn't going to need it anymore."
Bing laughed.
"Interesting."
"I like you."
The battle paused as they exchanged words.
Only the two of them understood the truth.
While they spoke...
both were desperately searching for a way to break the stalemate.
Whoever found it first—
would win the match.
"Don't you have any hesitation about hurting people?"
Bing asked casually.
She was merely buying time.
Unexpectedly, the moment the question left her mouth, the flow of Force throughout Ethel's body became unstable.
Yet Bing didn't attack.
She sensed something far more terrifying.
"...I've been trained."
For a brief instant, Ethel's voice turned utterly emotionless.
His expression froze into one of chilling indifference.
A genuine killing intent poured from him.
Outside the arena, the squad leaders nearly rushed in to stop the match.
Fortunately, the murderous aura lasted only a heartbeat.
Just as quickly, Ethel returned to normal.
Judging from the cold sweat running down Bing's forehead, however, she'd realized she had come dangerously close to being killed.
"...Let's continue."
"Let's."
The brief interruption passed, and both of them focused on the fight once more.
Ethel searched desperately for a solution.
His surprise attack had worked once, but with Bing's speed and Concept, it would never succeed a second time.
Bing faced a different problem.
Most of her attacks simply couldn't hit Ethel.
Unless...
she could trap him in a sequence that was impossible to evade.
"Forget it."
"I'm going all in."
She attacked again.
Just as expected, every strike missed.
Yet she never stopped advancing.
She continued pressing Ethel backward.
Left. Left. Lower right. Lower left. Left. Lower left. Lower right.
Watching the crimson trajectories before him, Ethel followed the voice inside his head, dodging each incoming attack.
Then—
his expression suddenly changed.
For the briefest instant, he revealed an opening.
Bing failed to capitalize on it completely, but it disrupted Ethel's rhythm enough to force him further onto the defensive.
Step by step...
she drove him backward.
Without realizing it, Ethel had nearly reached the wall.
That had been Bing's plan all along.
Corner him.
Leave him nowhere left to retreat.
Then overwhelm him with a barrage of attacks.
So what if he could foresee them?
There would be nowhere left to dodge.
She prepared the Twelve-Strike Straight once more.
This time she'd weave a single uppercut into the alternating left and right hooks.
With the wall behind him, Ethel would have no choice but to block with his only remaining arm.
The moment he committed to that block...
she would use the recoil to launch herself into the air—
and drive a devastating side kick straight into the center of his body.
Unless his Concept allowed him to twist into some impossible shape...
the kick would land.
Her reasoning was flawless.
If Ethel hadn't realized he was cornered...
this would have been the winning blow.
If he hadn't realized.
Finally—
his heel touched the wall.
Bing unleashed the Twelve-Strike Straight.
She didn't even hesitate to use her injured left hand to complete the trap.
She herself had reached her limit.
Such relentless offense was only possible by continuously forcing massive amounts of Force through her body without pause.
She couldn't sustain it much longer.
This has to end here.
Left.
Right.
Left.
Right.
The voice guiding Ethel stopped after the final word.
Right.
Bing's eyes widened.
Her left fist slammed directly into Ethel's right shoulder.
The impact completely shattered his shoulder blade.
His right arm was finished.
He could no longer fight with either hand.
But...
that no longer mattered.
Using Bing's left arm—still pinning him against the wall—as a pivot, Ethel curled his body upward.
He could see it perfectly.
Bing no longer had any Force left to spare for defense.
To corner him, she'd burned nearly everything accelerating herself.
Everything had gone into offense.
Then...
he would grant her wish.
Ethel abandoned his right arm completely.
He reinforced it with only the bare minimum of Force—
just enough to keep the limb from being torn off.
Drawing both knees toward his chest...
he poured every remaining ounce of Force into his legs—
and drove both feet straight into Bing's abdomen.
She flew backward.
Her body crashed hard against the opposite wall.
Her eyes rolled back.
She collapsed unconscious.
Winner of the mock battle: Ethel.
Ethel slowly slid down the wall into a sitting position.
As the adrenaline faded, agony exploded from both of his ruined arms, leaving him barely able to breathe.
He looked across the room at Bing's unconscious body.
He had deliberately held back the amount of Force in that final kick.
She shouldn't be seriously injured.
Just unconscious.
The training room door burst open.
Oene rushed inside alongside several medical personnel.
One team hurried to Bing, lifting her unconscious body onto a stretcher.
The other approached Ethel with Oene.
"Are you alright?"
"Are you still conscious?"
"I am."
Oene's voice was filled with unmistakable concern.
Looks like...
I'd worried her.
She reached out and gently placed a hand against his cheek.
"So you're still conscious..."
Her tone suddenly changed.
Every instinct in Ethel's body screamed that something was very wrong.
In his vision, Oene's arm instantly became a crimson trajectory leading directly toward his face.
"I mean...!"
"It's just a mock battle!"
"Did the two of you really have to beat each other up this badly?!"
"Owowowow!"
Oene pinched his cheek as hard as she could.
Her face was full of frustration.
"Do you have any idea how worried I was watching from outside?"
"Huh?"
"It was just a sparring match!"
"Was there really any need to push yourselves this far?!"
The louder she became, the harder she pinched.
Eventually she even unconsciously infused a tiny amount of Force into her fingers.
"...Sigh."
She let go with a long sigh.
Getting angry at her subordinates simply wasn't in her nature.
"Promise me."
"Next time..."
"Be more careful."
"I promise."
She nodded before turning to the medics behind her.
"Take him."
And so, both Ethel and Bing were transported to the nineteenth floor for treatment.
As for what happened afterward...
Oene ended up scolding Bing for a full three hours.
That, however, is a story for another time.
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