Robinn went straight for the knockout.

  The moment the match began, she stepped in and threw a heavy right hook, her arm changing mid-motion, flesh hardening into smooth looking stone.

  It would have landed cleanly if Ibara hadn’t reacted in time. With a sharp gesture, she grew a wall of vines, thick and tightly woven, rising up between them like a living shield.

  The punch slammed into it with a dull thunk. Robinn’s stone fist cracked through several layers, but didn’t break through fully. Ibara exhaled slowly, eyes closed in what almost looked like prayer. “Such sinful acts,” she murmured.

  Wrong.

  A sound split through the wall.... a wet, snapping noise, and suddenly Robinn’s arm burst clean through the vines. Her hand shot forward, gripping a handful of Ibara’s long, vine-entwined hair.

  The grasp was firm. Unrelenting. There was no moment of recovery.

  Ibara didn’t feel pain in her vines, she never did... but something in her heart ached as they were wrenched without care. So cruel...

  She didn’t have time to mourn.

  With a sharp jerk, Robinn yanked her forward through the splintered wall. Ibara’s body flew, weightless and graceless, before slamming into the concrete several meters away. She hit the ground with a jolt, vines scattering around her like broken limbs, and tumbled hard. The arena floor was no gentle landing.

  But she rose quickly. Grace returned to her posture as she pushed herself up with the help of her hair, vines folding inward and then blooming out again. “You shall repent for your schemes,” she intoned, forming a triangle with her hands, then extending her hair.

  Vines snaked downward. They dove into the concrete, cracking it in spiderweb patterns as they burrowed beneath. Moments later, they erupted from the ground beneath Robinn’s last known position, dust clouding the area, roots twisting and tightening around a shape.

  But as the air cleared, Ibara’s expression faltered.

  Only Robinn’s shoes were there, tangled and discarded in the mess of green.

  She immediately retracted her vines, panic touching her movements now, scanning the writhing mass for any trace of a body.

  Nothing.

  The arena was quiet again, unnaturally so.

  Then...

  A footstep behind her. Soft. Too soft.

  She started to turn, but it was too late.

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  A strong hand gripped her collar and pulled... suddenly she was airborne again, legs kicked out from under her as Robinn hauled her toward the edge of the ring in a single ruthless motion. Ibara twisted midair, vines shooting out and stabbing into the ground, rooting her to the spot just in time.

  The tension snapped tight. Robinn’s charge came to a halt as Ibara’s hair anchored them both, locking her in place like a tethered beast. For a moment, their eyes met.

  Robinn let go of the collar and took a step back, her face shifting into something unreadable. Her lips curled into a small, unsettling grin. Not mocking. Just... unsettling.

  Then she began to vanish.

  Her legs went first... fading into particles, dissipating like a paper burning into ashes. Then her torso. Her head. Within a few seconds, she was gone entirely. Nothing remained.

  Except the air.

  Ibara barely had time to register the movement.

  A sudden, precise pain struck her gut. Her breath left her lungs in a short gasp, her body doubling over. She looked down, not out of curiosity, but because she hadto. A fist was embedded in her stomach. Robinn’s.

  Before she could react, it pulled back... only to slam into her again.

  Ibara cried out, finally breaking the silence. She unrooted her vines, pulling herself back, stumbling as the floating fist came toward her. Robinn’s body reformed piece by piece behind it, arm, shoulder, then the rest of her, not missing a beat. The moment she was whole, she charged again.

  Present Mic, who had been unusually quiet during the clash, finally found his voice again.

  “Whoaaa, folks! Looks like this battle’s heating up fast! Will Reibach yank her way to victory, or can Shiozaki evade her ruthless onslaught?”

  Robinn didn’t slow down.

  She charged straight in, fast and merciless. Ibara had no chance to counter, she was too busy retreating, her steps growing shakier by the second. Robinn’s blows came in rapid succession, each one tighter and more controlled than the last. Ibara had already taken two sharp punishing punches to her midsection, and the ache was spreading deep. Her abdomen throbbed with every breath and movement.

  She kept falling back, vines shifting under her feet like improvised footholds. She needed a window. Just one.

  And then... there.

  A slight misstep. Robinn’s momentum faltered for half a heartbeat. Her foot hit the ground just a little off-center, and Ibara seized the opening.

  With a cry, she threw her arms forward. ”Crucifixion!”

  Her hair shot out with explosive force, vines twisting and converging, binding Robinn mid-motion. They wrapped around her in a tight, suffocating weave, compressing her limbs and torso until she was sealed in a dense sphere of green. The arena rumbled slightly as the vines tightened, locking her in place.

  Present Mic’s voice rang out again, triumphant. “Well there you have it, folks! This exciting battle ended because of a misstep! A round of applause for our victor...Robinn Reibach!!”

  Ibara froze.

  “...What?”

  Her saintly composure cracked for the first time. She looked down, eyes widening in disbelief.

  The white line... the ring boundary... was infront of her.

  She was out of bounds.

  The realization hit like a third blow to the stomach. She’d stepped out during the retreat, just before she trapped Robinn. She hadn’t even noticed.

  Her gaze snapped up toward the massive sphere of vines, and then off to the side, where Robinn was already leaning against it.

  She was reforming. Not immobilized at all, and smiling faintly.

  Ibara hadn’t caught her at all.

  From the edge of the arena, Midnight raised one hand and snapped her whip toward the sky. “Shiozaki is out of bounds! Reibach advances to the next match!”

  Robinn approached quietly, walking with that same calm control she’d shown throughout the match. She extended a hand toward Ibara, smiling warmly. “You fought well Ibara”

  Ibara hesitated, then took it, her grip light. “Yes, of course... I lost fairly. Even if your ways were sinful... I admit my defeat.”

  Robinn’s grin twitched, and she rolled her eyes. “Again with your religious stuff, huh?”

  Without another word, she turned and walked off the arena. Unbothered and casual, already leaving the match behind.