Zavier and the others looked at Damian, their hands twitching toward weapons, ready to unleash the same devastating combinations that had won their tournament match in five seconds.
But Damian gave a subtle shake of his head – barely visible, just a slight negative movement that carried clear meaning.
'Not yet. Conserve strength.'
They understood immediately.
This wasn't a tournament with medical teams standing by.
This was survival, and they had no idea how long the fight would last or what else they'd face after these creatures were dealt with.
Showing their full capabilities from the start would paint targets on their backs from Nobles who'd love any excuse to eliminate commoner threats.
Better to appear competent but not exceptional.
So they held back for now.
Zavier protected Lysa with efficient strikes rather than overwhelming force, his spear finding vulnerable points rather than obliterating entire sections of enemies.
