Breakfast was always the best, but battle tasted far better. Still, she pondered the strange letter left in the hotel room, the one bearing Hirohowl's scent and a star-shaped insignia with a butterfly emblazoned at its center.

  Perplexed by the discovery, Idalia concluded that the only one who had been near Hirohowl was Tiamare. What had that girl done to her friend? She had rex-napped Hirohowl.

  When the note was presented to the group, Cheyin held her breath, pressing her lips tightly together, brows furrowed and teeth grinding as she read it to herself before promptly stashing it away, much to Idalia's dismay.

  Alas, that curiosity burned at the forefront of Idalia's mind. She wanted answers and would fight for them, because her opponent this sunrise was Cheyin.

  Idalia stopped short of the Waterfall Coliseum, a flatland within the jungle that sloped downward into a vast crater encrusted with rock and vegetation, surrounded and adorned by natural pillar-like structures edged with shimmering runes.

  Rivers surged in perfect rings, and waterfalls cascaded toward the island-like center of the formation. None spilled into the island itself, as the area was elevated. Instead, along the crater's rim, the rivers continued to spiral until they halted neatly around the island like a whirlpool. Those waters then tucked themselves politely beneath two fallen tree trunks so massive they could have smashed through mountains.

  If Idalia did not know better, she would have guessed the crater could swallow five mountains based on its sheer vastness. She wondered what had struck the ground long ago to carve such an engraving into the earth. Yet beyond her awe at the spectacle, she pressed onward across the trunk bridge, while her friends Kelix, Vestella, and Rhaya halted at the jungle's edge behind her.

  On the far side, Idalia spotted Cheyin approaching from the opposite tree bridge, her subordinates remaining behind her at the rear.

  The duel would begin soon. The island's center looked more like a spacious jungle than a dull, flat battleground. Idalia yowled as the terrain resembled a valley that had swallowed an island and transformed it into a vibrant landscape.

  Lief and Elemae stood at the center of the combat ring. The elven duo glanced at Idalia, then toward Cheyin. They remained silent until they shared a nod. Lief raised his hands, the young Archmage singing a lovely melody. Spectacularly, the runes decorating the ground began to glow. As his magic rippled from his voice, he levitated, lifting Elemae into the air, too, as they hovered upward like fairies. Once they floated high above, a dome formed around the island where Idalia and Cheyin were left to fight.

  Suddenly, Lief spoke, his voice reverberating from an orb made of dew that floated inside the dome.

  "Remember the rules, Idalia, Cheyin." The orb tilted accordingly as each was addressed. "This is a duel. All abilities are acceptable. However, no fatalities will be permitted. No interference, no binding until the completion of the match, and no portal tossing your opponent out of the ring, Idalia."

  "Aw! Don't be a tease, Lief," Idalia exclaimed. She stuck her tongue out.

  The orb grumbled with Lief's voice, it quivered, then eased. "Anyway, this sanctum is fortified to take significant damage, so fight at your heart's content."

  "Alrighty. Sounds amazing," Cheyin said. Across the field, she stretched.

  Idalia noticed something new about Cheyin's attire. Her clothing was baggy, yet there was a stretchiness and breathability to it that suggested she could easily move in it. Her green hair was tied into ball-like shapes, and the spine-like braid was tight like a whip.

  Cheyin adjusted her stance, and it perplexed Idalia what the odd posture was for. All she saw was that Cheyin stood on one foot with one arm positioned forward, but the air around her felt like a menacing surge.

  "Ready when you are, Ida," Cheyin called.

  Idalia braced herself, lowering her body into a pounce. Her excitement bubbled in her chest as she was one paw-step away from reclaiming her Papa.

  She was going to win this. For him. For herself. For her pride.

  "I am Idalia Idarift! Daughter of Solrift! Prepare yourself, Cheyin!"

  Cheyin grinned. "I am Cheyin Orun Orstel, proud heiress of the Orun Dominion! I accept your challenge, Idalia Idarift!"

  Happiness swelled in Idalia's heart as Cheyin acknowledged her, a hot, buzzing thrill that made her tail flick without her noticing. But that did not mean she would go easy on Cheyin. Respect was not mercy. Respect was teeth and impact and truth.

  Idalia dashed forward on all fours, claws biting into the sanctum floor as she barreled toward Cheyin headlong. The wind rushed past her ears. Her blood sang. She wanted to feel Cheyin's strength first, to collide with it and see if it cracked or roared back.

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  To her delight, Cheyin appeared to accept the challenge.

  When Idalia leapt, coiling and releasing all at once as she propelled herself forward with her {Headbutt}, the woman before her remained motionless. Cheyin did not flinch. Did not brace. Did not retreat.

  Idalia's grin stretched wide. "Good."

  Then Cheyin moved.

  The shift was instant and precise. Cheyin's arms snapped up and around Idalia's forward momentum, not blocking the charge but redirecting it. Idalia barely had time to register the change before her body was caught midair. Cheyin twisted with the impact, using Idalia's own force to pull her down and in.

  They hit the ground together.

  Cheyin landed beneath her, already rolling, already locking. One arm cinched across Idalia's chest. A leg hooked tight around her thigh. Another arm threaded under her shoulder and clamped down. It was not a single hold but many, layered and intentional, each one sealing off a direction of escape.

  The force of the grip itself did not surprise Idalia. Strength she understood. Strength she welcomed.

  What shocked her was the control.

  Cheyin's limbs wrapped around her with terrifying precision, tightening in a way that felt alive. Not stiff like chains. Not sharp like vines. This was pressure that adapted, that followed every thrash and punished it by squeezing harder. Every time Idalia twisted, the hold adjusted. Every breath made the space smaller.

  Idalia snarled and bucked, claws scraping uselessly against the floor. Her back arched. Her shoulders strained. She tried to wrench her torso free, then her hips, then her neck. Nothing gave. Cheyin was everywhere at once, arms and legs locking her down from below, turning her own weight into an anchor.

  Too tight. Too close.

  Idalia hated it.

  The squeeze crept inward, pressing the air from her lungs inch by inch. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears. Heat flooded her face. Still, beneath the panic, something feral and electric sparked in her chest.

  "This is real," she thought wildly. "This is strength."

  "Forfeit," Cheyin said, her voice calm even as the pressure increased. "As a Beast Hero, I have used this technique to hold an innumerable number of beasts into submission. You will not be the first, nor the last. Even Ruargo lost to this."

  "Even your own General?" Idalia squeaked, the sound forced thin through compressed lungs.

  Memory flashed hot and sharp. The Orun General. His impossible presence. The way he had fought like something born to war. A man who could wrestle dragons into the dirt.

  If Cheyin was stronger than him.

  Fear bloomed, sudden and raw, and it thrilled her even as it clawed at her spine.

  "Got to get out."

  Black spots began to freckle her vision. Idalia could feel exactly where Cheyin held her now. An arm locked across her ribs. A leg scissored around her thigh. Another pressing her shoulder down. Cheyin's body was braced beneath her, using the ground as leverage, turning Idalia's mass against her.

  Idalia's writhing slowed, reduced to tight, shaking motions. There was no room to swing, no space to coil. With Cheyin beneath her and both of them pinned to the floor, her range of motion was gone entirely.

  Her chest burned. Her instincts screamed.

  But beneath it all, beneath the fear and the pressure and the fading edges of the world, Idalia's heart howled with wild, stubborn joy.

  "This won't end me," she thought fiercely. "Not like this."

  Pressure closed in again, relentless and knowing. Cheyin adjusted minutely, tightening where Idalia strained most, sealing off the last scraps of space. The hold was patient. Confident. It waited for panic to finish the work.

  Idalia bared her teeth and laughed, breathless and wild.

  No. She would not fight this like prey.

  Her instincts flipped, sharp and sudden. Instead of thrashing harder, she went still.

  The change was immediate. Cheyin's grip tightened in response, anticipating another surge of resistance, another desperate buck. That expectation was the opening Idalia needed.

  Idalia sucked in what little air she could and folded.

  She went slack in her shoulders, let her spine curve inward instead of arching, compressed herself smaller than Cheyin expected. At the same time, she twisted her hips sharply and drove her chin down, tucking her head hard toward her chest.

  Cheyin's arm slid a fraction too high.

  Idalia lunged into it.

  She snapped her jaws down on Cheyin’s forearm, not biting to tear but clamping with brutal pressure, teeth scraping skin and cloth. Cheyin hissed and reflexively shifted, loosening the leg hooked around Idalia’s thigh for just an instant.

  That was enough.

  Idalia kicked downward with both hind legs, raking the floor and pushing off Cheyin’s own body. She twisted sideways, rolling instead of pulling back, letting her momentum carry her out of the layered holds one by one. Shoulder free. Hip free. Then she tore herself loose entirely and sprang away on all fours.

  She landed in a low crouch several paces back, chest heaving, saliva stringing from her teeth. Her lungs burned. Her limbs shook. Her grin was feral and unrepentant.

  Cheyin rose smoothly to her feet, rolling her arm once and flexing her fingers. There was no anger on her face. Only interest.

  ??? ??? ???

  From the stands, Elemae leaned forward, eyes sharp and bright.

  "That clinch was the Wanderan's Orun Jiu-Jitsu style," she said casually, though her gaze never left the field. "Ground dominance through adaptive restraint. You do not overpower the opponent. You teach their body that resistance is useless."

  Lief hummed. "It did feel... structured. Like a spell lattice, but physical. Each hold reinforcing the next."

  Elemae laughed softly. "Close. It is hunted knowledge. Learned from wrestling things that do not think like people. Beasts, monstrosities, warforms. The style assumes your opponent is stronger, faster, and desperate."

  "And Idalia?" Lief asked.

  Elemae smiled. "She stopped being desperate."

  Lief considered that. "From a mage's perspective, she disrupted the flow. She did not break the hold with force. She collapsed the pattern."

  "Exactly," Elemae said. "Cheyin expected struggle. Idalia gave her nothing, then struck where instinct betrays even masters."

  ??? ??? ???

  On the field, Idalia shook herself once, like a beast shedding water. Pain flared along her ribs and shoulder, but it only fed the heat in her blood. She lowered herself again, claws spread, tail lashing.

  That squeeze had been terrifying. Intimate. It had reminded her how small she could be made.

  And how sharp. Her eyes gleamed. "Again," Idalia growled, joy blazing through the ache.