Eden had observed quite a bit about her opponent throughout their altercation. While she wasn’t as socially privy as Donovan, she had enough battle knowledge to close the gap in mental profiling. She had mentally prepared herself for quite a bit: more fire, ice perhaps, maybe even some sort of explosive if he could somehow make those. Something that made sense. The last thing she expected was… Whatever the hell he was doing now.

  The best way she could describe his current movements was as a dance. He swayed hypnotically, his feet stepping from side to side in fixed patterns. His torso bobbed with each one, the dominant foot swapping with each one. The range he could cover had extended, but it left him little room to defend. Had he gone mad? Maybe, or maybe he was planning something. It wasn’t anything she’d ever seen before.

  Her feet dig into the floor, her charge hard pivoting to the left as he steps right. She could feel the Synth wafting off his Tonfa. If she had to guess, he was absorbing air. That gave her a small window to get her weapon and dodge-.

  Her thoughts devolve into a yelp as Donovan suddenly shoots toward her, his body swinging with a single, fluid motion. His left leg shoots out like flowing water, slamming right into the back of her knee. Her loose fighting style did good against an opponent attempting to harm or maim, but it did nothing against an attack aiming to displace.

  She falls on the floor hard, her air evacuating in a gasp. She barely has time to wonder what happened before the looming shadow of Donovan’s foot comes crashing down toward her face with a perfectly executed axe kick. She scrambles back, dodging the attack by a hair's breath. His foot slams to the floor, a small crater forming where her head was. Her heart hammers in her chest, ragged breaths tearing their way from her throat. If that landed, she would’ve been done for.

  From the other side of the room, chatter buzzes about the small barrier. Liv looks on, her eyes widening as she watches Eden stand once more. Donovan resumes his rhythm, his eyes hard locked on his opponent, though his mind seemed focused on something else entirely. Anthony and Arata observe the fight transpiring before them, calm words flying between the two.

  “You told me he was a kickboxer who relied on blocking and counter attacks.” Arata states, his arms folded across his chest. “Not… Whatever this is..”

  “I’m finding this out at the same time as you.” Anthony says, heat tinging the edges of his voice. He didn’t sound entirely mad, but he seemed to be on track to that destination.

  “He’s never used this on the field?” Arata glances at Anthony, an interested eyebrow cocking up. Before Anthony can respond, Charlotte interjects.

  “Obviously not.” Anthony grumbles. “I’ve never seen anyone use this style before, let alone someone I know.”

  “It’s capoeira.” She says simply, a complete lack of surprise in her voice. All eyes turn away from the fight and to her. If it affected her, she didn’t let it show. “My family owns an extensive library, one of those sections being combat manuals. I’ve read of its techniques, though I thought the style completely died out with the rise of demons– that was before I met Donovnan, of course.”

  “That’s a fightin’ style?” Liv pushes past Anthony and Arata, her face pressed against the barrier in awe. Donovan danced across the floor, each effort Eden made to pass him rebuffed by a swift kick any number of places on her body. It reminded Liv of some of the dances in that orchestra room, but fundamentally different. Its rhythm was all its own, nothing like anything she’d ever seen from the wild fights she’d had.

  “Yes.” Charlotte continues, a smile on her face as she watches Liv’s wide eyed awe. “It focuses mostly on powerful kicks, though knees and punches are incorporated often enough to be notable. Its strengths lie within its unpredictability. It’s far harder to read the movements of someone who’s always on the move as opposed to someone rigid. There’s also the simple truth that a kick can generate far more force than a simple punch. Capoeira leans into that, using the entire body as a pivot point to create as much power as humanly possible. Its offense is terrific, and the style permits a lot of opportunities to use it.”

  “Woah.” Liv murmurs. Slowly, she tears her eyes away from the ensuing fight, a question brewing in the back of her mind. “Why hasn’t he been usin’ that?”

  Before Charlotte can respond, Arata jumps in, his voice impassive.

  “There’s a flaw.”

  Liv turns her gaze to him, her head cocking to the side. From what she had heard, it sounded strong– unbeatable, even. Charlotte nods her head in agreement with Arata, her arms crossing across her chest.

  “You see it too?”

  “It’s simple, really.” Arata gestures to the fight at hand once more. Eden barely sidesteps another kick from Donovan, her arm shooting out to wrap around the overextended leg. Donovan drops to his arms, twisting his entire body while kicking at her knee. Eden bites down a pained cry, falling to a knee. This nets her another kick to the face. She’s sent sprawling onto her back, blood fountaining from her nose once more. Donovan pushes up with his hands, cartwheeling a step back and up to his feet, his rhythm restoring in an instant. “He can’t block.”

  “Indeed.” Charlotte’s eyes harden, her arms tightening across her chest. “While his offense is impeccable, his defense relies entirely on avoiding damage entirely. Blocking is fundamentally opposite of the style.”

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  “He’ll be drained.” Arata finishes.

  Charlotte nods once more. “That’s what makes it inefficient against demons. Though the kicks are strong, it doesn’t lend itself to fighting demons who can take far more attacks than us, especially with the stamina expenditure required to keep it going.”

  “That’s what Synth Charges are for, no?” Lana pipes up, her hands clasping at her waist. “Eden doesn’t have the luxury of that now that he’s keeping her away.”

  “I think that’s why he only just started using it. It’s sound, and it’s the correct decision.” Anthony sighs. “Which ruins the point of the spar.”

  “You act as if Eden has no route to victory.” Charlotte interjects, her eyes narrowing a touch as she turns to stare at Anthony. “She just has to break through the area in which Donovan controls. Her weapon is eerily well suited to countering his.”

  “But she won’t.” Anthony says finally. The cat was probably out of the bag. Charlotte was piecing it together, and no way Arata wasn’t going to spill the beans during his fight. “I picked Eden to fight Donovan because she forces him to fight with more offense. He can’t exactly block her when she’s using her weapon, that paired with her aggressive fighting style leaves her almost entirely open at all times. I was hoping that would manifest as him using his weapons in conjunction with what I thought was defensive kickboxing to get an edge on her. If I knew he had this in his back pocket, I wouldn’t have paired them together. He’s not going to learn anything by kicking her around.”

  As if to emphasize the point, Donovan lands two swift kicks to her kidney and chest respectively in quick succession. Eden lets fly a roar of defiance, her bare hand aiming to slap him away. He cartwheels back, the butt of his Tonfa digging into the floor. A sudden frost runs across the floor, ice running across all the concrete within fifteen feet. At the same time, Donovan dashes back in, his left leg poising to slam into her face. Her gut wanted to dodge back, but the ice made that impossible.

  For the first time since they started fighting, Eden raises her hands defensively, prepping to block. Instead, Donovan jumps, his legs tucking in. Charlotte winces slightly, a breath sucking in from between her teeth. Her hand shoots up to rub at her chest. That poor girl…

  Donovan’s feet suddenly fly forward, a perfectly executed dropkick slamming into Eden’s chest. A painful wheeze escapes her mouth, her body crumpling to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut. Donovan lands shortly after, a puff of exhaustion escaping his own mouth. Sweat shines on his skin, frozen to his skin by the frost he expunged.

  “Concede?” He questions, though the pretense made it sound more like a demand.

  “Conceding.” Eden wheezes after a moment, her hands cradling the rapidly blooming bruise blossoming across her chest. Many matching ones paint her skin, alongside some of the teeth missing from her mouth. Donovan nods, his arm slipping under hers, propping her up on his side.

  The barrier around the group falls, Anthony quickly leading the charge, pink energy crackling around his caduceus. He waves it once he’s a few steps away, relief flooding Eden’s aching body. She manages to stand with her own strength, her gaze turning to the one who defeated her so easily.

  “I still feel like I don’t know a lot about you, pretty boy.” She mutters, her teeth stained red.

  “People tend to say that a lot.” Donovan teases, a snicker escaping his mouth. “But I had a lot of fun if that means anything to you.”

  “I’ll take what I can get, I guess.” She says, walking to retrieve her weapon. Donovan waves to her, his smile never faltering. What he said wasn’t a complete lie. He enjoyed cutting loose sometimes, but he wouldn’t say it was a lot of fun. Fighting a certain someone else spoiled him a bit.

  “Fantastic showing!” Charlotte calls from behind Anthony’s clearly annoyed form, a smirk plastered across her own face. Well, he knew Anthony had some sort of plan with this whole thing. He guessed he threw it off.

  “Are you going to explain what that was?” Anthony quirks an eyebrow up, a rough undercurrent to his voice. Donovan raises his hands defensively, an easy going smile stretching across his features.

  “In my defense,” Donovan starts. “You never asked if I knew how to fight like that.”

  “I thought it was obvious.” Anthony grunts.

  “If it was, why didn’t I know to tell you? Checkmate.” Donovan teases. Anthony’s expression sours.

  “You’re staying for an extra hour for some special training since I clearly don’t know your capabilities well enough.”

  Donovan’s eyes bug out, his jaw falling slack as he begins to protest. They die as Charlotte places a hand on his shoulder, a snicker tumbling from her lips. Donovan looks on, a sigh slowly escaping his own lips.

  “Fiiineee.” Donovan says, drawing the word out as his thumb juts out to Charlotte. “As long as Char has to join me.”

  “Deal.” Anthony immediately agrees, Charlotte’s expression soon matching Donovan’s old one. Anthony turns his ire to her. “You clearly knew about his style and you didn’t tell either me or Liv. Since you two prefer to keep things between the two of you, some training would strengthen that bond you have.”

  Liv looks on as the three continue to bicker, a blank expression plastered across her face. Arata takes up a spot next to her, his arms limp by his sides. When he finally speaks, its with a confused tone.

  “Shouldn’t it be you who reprimands them?”

  “Whuzzat?” Liv questions, her head turning to him.

  “You’re the leader,” Arata continues. “It falls on your shoulders to keep them steady. Yet you allow Anthony to take the role. If I didn’t know any better, I would believe him to be their leader over you.”

  A dull ache pangs in Liv’s chest, an emotional scar slowly tearing its way open on her heart. Only a month ago, she would’ve allowed Arata’s words to fester in her mind, to drive her to a rash decision. She calms that part of her, a sigh escaping her lips.

  “I ain’t any good at this trainin’ ‘n plannin’ thing.” Liv admits, not a hint of shame in her voice. “‘Sides, I got my own role. Ain’t every leader’s gotta be strategizin’ too. Yer just gonna spread yerself thin.”

  Arata stares at her for a moment. After a beat, he exhales through his nose, turning his back to her. “It’s about time we start the next match. We shouldn’t squander valuable time bickering like children."

  Charlotte and Donovan stop their bickering with Anthony, much of the wind stolen from their sails. Anthony simply shakes his head, gesturing for Lana to step forward. Lana does so, giving Eden a sympathetic stare as she steps forward. Eden rolls their eyes, easily walking under their own power now.

  Liv and Anthony follow, Donovan giving Charlotte a final thumbs up before ultimately joining them. Charlotte smirks, waving in kind as she takes up her position on her side of the room. Lana takes her own, her hands still ever clasped at her hips. Charlotte slowly draws Pierre from its sheathe, her heart slamming against her ribs. While this woman wasn’t Arata, she was still chosen specifically to counter her in some way. Her eyes dart to Anthony as the barrier raises, a neutral expression taut across his face. Whatever he had planned… She planned to meet in kind, and with as much fervor as she could muster.