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Chapter 80 - COLD HANDS, WARM HEARTS

Snow churned beneath Elias's boots as he shifted his weight, breath fogging in the cold air. His opponent sat several paces away, posture relaxed to the point of insult—hands buried in his pockets, head slightly tilted, as though Elias were little more than an inconvenience.

Elias tried first with what he knew.

His foot dug into the snow, body low, fist driving forward in a straight line meant to test distance more than land a blow.

The boy wasn't there.

He hadn't dodged so much as already moved—his body shifting aside before Elias's strike had fully committed. Snow puffed where he'd been, light and undisturbed.

Elias frowned.

He attacked again. Faster this time. A short step, a hook aimed not at the head but the ribs—awkward to evade cleanly.

The boy swayed away, hands still in his pockets, expression unchanged.

Again.

A kick, sweeping low to force a stumble.

The boy stepped over it without looking down.

Elias pulled back, breath steady, eyes sharp.

'How is he doing this? He's never where I aim.'

They traded distance for several seconds—Elias advancing, the boy retreating in lazy arcs, always just out of reach. It was infuriating in its calmness. No wasted movement. No panic. No strain.

'Like he already knows.'

Elias changed rhythm.

Two fast strikes. A pause. Then one slow, exaggerated swing meant to bait a response.

The boy leaned away before Elias even finished shifting his weight.

Elias clicked his tongue quietly.

"Alright."

He rushed again—this time committing harder, forcing the boy back toward a narrow stretch between a wall and a snowbank.

The boy adjusted.

Too smoothly.

Elias let his next punch fall short on purpose.

The boy moved anyway.

Elias's eyes narrowed. He followed with a real jab. A second real strike.

Then—without breaking momentum—Elias threw the dagger.

The boy shifted left to avoid it before it even reached him—

—and Elias stepped in hard, fist already driving toward where the boy would be.

For the first time, the boy faltered.

Not a miss.

Not a stumble.

A hesitation.

His body jerked as if correcting itself mid-thought, shoulders tensing, feet adjusting too sharply.

Elias didn't land the hit.

But he saw it.

There.

Elias retreated a step, heart pounding—not from exhaustion, but realization.

He chose wrong.

Not slow.

Not careless.

Wrong.

Elias pulled the dagger back into his hand with a thread of Flow and attacked again, immediately repeating the pattern—launching two actions at once.

The boy avoided the first.

The second grazed his sleeve.

The boy's eyes sharpened.

Elias exhaled slowly.

'Bingo.'

Whatever the boy was doing—seeing outcomes, predicting results, whatever it was—it latched onto a single object. A single action. A single cause.

And when Elias gave him two—

He had to choose.

Elias didn't rush the revelation.

He exploited it.

He attacked again—not stronger, not faster—busier. A punch meant to miss. A step meant to threaten. A shoulder turn that promised another strike that never came.

The boy dodged.

Then dodged again.

This time, his movements were sharper. Less fluid.

'Got you.'

That was when the boy sighed and finally took his hands out of his pockets.

The beads came loose all at once.

Elias immediately stepped back.

The moment they slipped free of the boy's wrist, they moved—each carving its own path through the air, yet all bound to a single intent.

Elias felt it immediately.

Pressure.

Not from one direction—but everywhere.

A bead cracked past his cheek, close enough that the displaced air stung. Another swept low, forcing him to jump. A third curved behind him, not striking—just there, sealing his retreat.

He lunged anyway.

The beads surged in response—not reacting, but arriving, as if the outcome had already been decided.

Elias twisted, blocking one with his forearm. The impact rattled up to his shoulder. Another struck his boot, spinning him sideways.

He barely stayed upright.

Snow sprayed as he slid back, boots scrambling for purchase.

'I can't block this'.

The boy closed the distance, movements economical and precise. The closer he got, the more intense the beads became.

Elias barely rolled clear as one slammed into the space where his ribs had been. The ground cracked, frost scattering.

His heart hammered.

By using the beads, the boy had eliminated his weakness entirely. Elias couldn't exploit a limitation if he couldn't get close enough to force a choice.

So Elias decided to eliminate that elimination.

His Resonant answered like a knife sliding free.

The world sharpened.

Wind was no longer air—it was velocity. Snow wasn't snow—it was mass, drag, friction. Elias's thoughts fractured into cold calculations.

'Pressure differential: unstable.'

'Surface traction: compromised.'

'Vector alignment: exploitable.'

He didn't stop the beads.

He changed the parameters they moved through.

The wind shifted—not violently, not visibly—but enough. Snow thickened beneath the boy's feet while thinning under Elias's own.

The beads struck—

—and slid.

The boy's eyes widened, surprise flickering despite his composure.

Elias didn't smile. His jaw was clenched, breath shallow. The strain burned behind his eyes as he kept adjusting—micro-edits, constant corrections, holding the world slightly wrong so it worked in his favor.

The boy stepped—

—and slipped.

Not a fall.

Just enough.

He dodged a half-formed manifestation, boots skidding as cause and effect failed to align cleanly for the first time.

Elias felt it.

The opening.

The beads snapped back in defense, all of them moving at once—

—and Elias was suddenly out of time.

The boy surged forward, beads closing in from all sides.

The Jade Dagger pulsed.

A crimson haze bled into the space around them, distorting the world itself.

Time slowed.

Elias vaguely remembered this feeling—something similar, four months ago, before blacking out. He shoved the thought aside.

Even immune to the effect, he could see its impact on the boy.

His eyes lost focus.

The beads hung, drifting, as if they'd forgotten why they existed.

The haze flickered.

'I don't have time for this.'

Elias raised his hand, fingers extended. Wind spiraled around his index and middle fingers, compressed into a narrow, violent channel.

No calculation.

Just release.

The blast hit the boy square in the face.

The air cracked.

The boy was lifted clean off his feet, hurled backward through the snow before crashing down several meters away, skidding to a stop.

The crimson haze glitched—

—and vanished.

Elias staggered, breath ragged, vision swimming.

'Ah,I have a headache.'

The boy sat up.

Something dropped into the snow.

A hat.

Sunlight reflected off smooth skin.

Elias blinked.

"Oh…"

The boy was bald.

Completely. No hair. No eyebrows. His head gleamed absurdly in the light, reflecting the warped sky.

Elias took an involuntary step back.

"I—I'm sorry—I didn't—"

The boy frowned, about to speak—

—when Jamie vaulted into view.

She flipped cleanly over him, slapped his head down into a forced bow as she landed, boots crunching into the snow.

"OW—!"

Elias clamped a hand over his mouth.

Jamie turned and hugged him. "Ellie! What are you doing here?"

"I—you—he—he was following you," Elias stammered.

"Oh." She glanced back. "Then yeah. Misunderstanding."

She turned to the boy, who was still bowed.

"You gonna sit there all day, or are you coming over so I can introduce you?"

The boy didn't move.

Then Elias noticed droplets darkening the snow.

'Wait, tears?'

The boy stood, wiped his face with his sleeve, and walked over with exaggerated calm.

"Lyle," he said casually. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance."

He might have looked nonchalant—if not for his puffy eyes, the visible effort not to cry, and Jamie's handprint stamped cleanly across his smooth scalp.

Elias stared.

Then laughed.

Elsewhere, Torvin watched from the alley, furious. Beside him, Jax covered his mouth, shoulders shaking as he tried to stifle laughter. They were dressed in ordinary clothes this time, not their usual grey robes.

"What," Torvin muttered, "is he doing?"

✨ Happy New Year! ✨

As the old year folds into memory, may the coming one bring you moments that take your breath away, laughter that lingers long after it's over, and courage to chase the things that set your soul on fire.

May your challenges become lessons, your quiet moments become treasures, and every day remind you that even small steps move mountains.

Here's to new beginnings, unexpected adventures, and finding magic in the ordinary. 

Wishing you warmth, wonder, and a little mischief in the year ahead. God be with you.

StarboiUltra🌟

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