LunaWolve
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[ND] Chapter 164 - Movement
🕑 Added 2026-01-05 20:00:09 +0000 UTC---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
------------------- Start of Pre-Chapter Author Note (Patreon-only) -------------------
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Hello everyone, LunaWolve here!
Chapter 159 - First Truths has just released on RR with no major changes.
For the Fixers, this chapter is new.
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Yoyoyo, we back!
My work's a bit in the shitter this week, so I'm very glad I managed to throw this one together.
We got 2 more chapters in this dojo session, in case y'all are wondering.
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Time to get back into some action!
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I'm looking forward to hearing your first impressions and opinions on this chapter. \o/
I hope you will enjoy it!
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Here is the link to the chapter:
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1vY69xY8rhFDVg0INcCuGty72jDUwH9R6iwI2M8HfY6w/edit?usp=sharing
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Chapter 164 - Movement
The stunned silence barely had time to settle before Miss K shattered it.
“And that,” she said briskly, loudly clapping once as she stepped forward, “is exactly why your shard includes so many alternative combat techniques, Kenzie.”
The foxgirl let out a low grunt of acknowledgment as she rolled onto her side and pushed herself up. I was already there by the time she got one knee under her, offering a hand.
She took it without hesitation, gripping firmly, and gave me a short nod once she was back on her feet.
“Your instinct-driven style is extremely effective against anyone slower or weaker than you,” Miss K continued, moving slowly towards us as she spoke, “and it’s even good at destabilizing people who are slightly stronger. But the moment you face someone who outclasses you in more than one area, or can at least match you in speed—for example, like Sera does now on open ground—you stop fighting smart and start handing them opportunities to kill you.”
Kenzie visibly flinched at that, ears flattening.
“If this hadn’t been a controlled, non-lethal spar and Sera hadn’t been entirely new to her own capabilities,” Miss K went on coolly, “she could’ve easily folded your spine in half the first time you fully committed to that full-pounce attack. When she didn’t struggle—when she didn’t even need to defend or parry and simply stepped aside—that should’ve been your immediate cue to never try that angle again. I’m disappointed in you, Kenzie. That was a complete lapse in the quick thinking that I usually praise you for.”
Even I winced at that one.
‘Damn… I’ve only ever heard her go in like that on me,’ I thought grimly. ‘And, yeah—last time that happened, someone almost died… Not exactly fond memories.’
“I’m sorry, Ma’am,” Kenzie said quietly, shoulders slumping.
Miss K didn’t respond.
Her attention had already snapped to me and my stomach dropped immediately.
“Sera,” she said sharply, and I straightened on instinct. “I don’t know what insanity possessed you to think that was an acceptable way to end the exchange, but don’t ever do that again.”
Heat rushed straight to my ears and I nodded profusely.
“That was an unfathomably dangerous and stupid move,” she continued, voice utterly uncompromising, “even if it was impressive. It’s useless in any actual fight, and the number of injuries you risked—mostly to yourself, but also to Kenzie—was completely irresponsible and unnecessary. Catching and throwing a moving opponent mid-air is how you tear muscles, dislocate joints, or break your own damn spine if anything goes even slightly wrong.”
She jabbed a finger toward the mat for emphasis.
“Next time, just punch her in the head until she stops moving, or until I call the round. Am I understood?”
“…Yes, Ma’am,” I answered immediately, eyes dropping to the mat as I very deliberately avoided meeting her burning amber stare.
“Kenzie, bench. Water and meds,” Miss K ordered.
Kenzie didn’t hesitate for even half a second, darting off toward the sidelines like she’d just been handed a pardon. Honestly? I couldn’t blame her.
“Sera,” Miss K continued, turning back to me, “unless I’m mistaken, you’re still good to go?”
I paused for a beat. My muscles were still burning a little from the throw—but the verbal dressing-down had bought me just enough time to get my breathing back under control.
So I nodded.
“Good. Jin, you’re up.”
“Yes, Master,” he replied immediately, already jogging toward the mat.
As Miss K stepped back out of the combat area, which she had entered for some reason, something finally clicked. My eyes flicked to the spot where Kenzie had hit the ground—
And it was spotless.
No sweat. No spit. Not even a scuff where she’d slammed down.
‘…Damnit,’ I thought, equal parts impressed and annoyed at myself. ‘I was so busy being embarrassed I didn’t even notice she was cleaning the mat again.’
That realization rolled into another one right after.
‘I didn’t feel it at all this time. Not like earlier. So she can do it subtly too…’ I frowned inwardly. ‘Okay. So Anima isn’t untraceable—clearly not—but maybe it’s threshold-based? Too much at once and you feel it, but smaller applications just slip under the radar…?’
That was… concerning. And fascinating. And absolutely something to unpack later.
Because, right now, Jin was already in front of me, rolling his shoulders and slipping into his usual boxing stance. His cybernetic arms whirred softly as he threw a few test punches into the air, eyes locked on me with focus that left zero room for daydreaming.
I shoved the Anima thoughts aside and squared up.
‘Time to focus on the problem immediately in front of me.’
Namely—not getting punched in the mouth.
We stared each other down for a few long seconds, the kind that stretched just enough to make my thoughts start racing.
‘Okay. Jin,’ I thought. ‘Boxer. Mean fucking punches. Cyber arms that hurt like hell. Likes to control distances more than anything. Hates Kenzie’s fancy footwork. Gets annoyed when people don’t stand where he wants them to stand.’
That was… honestly most of what I had. Not exactly a deep tactical profile.
Still, I clung to it anyway, trying to sketch out something resembling a plan.
I always did better if I had at least the idea of a plan, even if reality usually set it on fire within the first five seconds. Anxiety stayed manageable that way.
After all, I wasn’t winging it—I was improvising off a framework. Totally different thing.
Miss K clapped her hands once, loud as always, signalling the start of our bout.
Jin didn’t explode towards me like he sometimes did.
Instead, he started inching toward me, one careful step at a time, shoulders loose, guard high.
His eyes never left mine.
That alone was unsettling.
He was definitely respecting me.
Not in the usual “I’ll beat you clean” way, but in the “I don’t actually know what you can do now” kind of way. He wasn’t pulling me into his range like he usually did—instead, he was probing, testing, trying to figure out where my danger zone even started now.
‘…That’s smart,’ I had to admit. ‘I don’t like it, but it’s smart.’
I answered by moving too.
In and out. Light on my feet. Testing angles.
I dipped just inside what I remembered as his preferred distance, then slipped back out again, watching his shoulders, his hips, the subtle shifts in his weight, everything to catch his lightning fast punches coming before they could connect.
But no punches yet.
Just a focused gaze burning into my skull.
So I decided to strike first—not with my hands, but my legs.
I snapped a quick kick into his lead thigh and pulled back immediately, then followed with another to the outside of his knee as he adjusted.
Jin grunted, more surprised than truly hurt.
‘Oh. That felt… different.’
The kick landed harder—and faster—than I’d expected.
I’d done something similar against Kenzie to mess with her mobility earlier as well, but with her, speed had always been the real limiter. She was so damn agile that even landing a clean hit usually meant sacrificing power just to keep up with her movement.
Jin was the opposite.
He didn’t dance around.
He stayed planted in that tight boxing stance of his, either eating the impact or deliberately letting the kick land if it meant forcing me to stay close long enough for him to threaten a counter.
Normally, that kind of trade favored him in the short-term.
This time, though, the sheer speed and force behind the kick clearly caught us both off guard.
I felt it travel clean through my leg, like I’d struck something that actually gave instead of just glancing off for a while like it usually did. Jin’s weight shifted more than he’d probably intended, his foot sliding half an inch before he corrected.
My brain barely had time to register that before my body decided it very much liked the result.
The third follow-up came almost on instinct, hips already turning, leg snapping out again before my thoughts could catch up—muscle memory and upgraded reflexes dragging me forward whether I’d consciously planned it or not.
‘Okay,’ I thought, excitement creeping in despite myself. ‘Yeah. That’s definitely the Reflex and Body talking right there.’
I kept at it, light but utterly relentless.
Low kicks, stepping in just long enough to land them before slipping back out again.
Each connection carried more weight than it used to, each recovery faster and smoother than before, giving him practically no time to catch me off balance.
This steady, grinding pressure on his movement was exactly the kind of thing I liked to do; but now I was far, far better at it than ever before.
Jin clearly noticed too as the focused frown on his face escalated over the course of the next few exchanges—if they could even be called that, as I was the only one doing any real hitting.
Then, his posture abruptly shifted and the last vestiges of patience vanished from his eyes.
He stopped trying to read me and started trying to take space, stepping in harder, shoulders rolling forward as he pushed through my kicks instead of respecting them.
I backpedaled immediately, feet light, hips turning as I snapped kick after kick into his thighs and calves, aiming to keep him right where I wanted him—just outside his comfort zone.
For a few seconds, it worked beautifully.
Each kick hit with a solid, meaty thud, forcing his steps shorter, rougher, the rhythm of his advance stuttering as I chipped away at his base.
I could feel the Reflex and Body upgrades pulling their weight here especially, letting me reposition, strike, and reset before he could commit to any counter attacks with his fists.
Then he just… decided he was done with all that.
Jin barreled forward, tanking two, three heavy kicks in quick succession with grunts of pain and finally crossed into his preferred range.
The punch came fast—almost too fast—but I saw it. Barely.
I slapped it off-line with my forearm, feeling the sheer mass behind it even as it missed. The follow-up was already flying, but I managed to knock that one aside too, my arms ringing from the impact.
And suddenly, it was his fight.
Jin’s pressure was relentless, classic boxing fundamentals layered over raw, cybernetic power. Short steps, tight guard, punches snapping out in brutal, efficient combinations that never fully overcommitted.
No wide movements, no wasted motion—just constant threat.
Blocking him wasn’t like dealing with Kenzie’s wild, full-body momentum or her long, crushing kicks. This was compact, explosive force, all focused into a space barely larger than my torso.
I danced on the edge of it, parrying, redirecting, slipping just enough to keep from getting clipped clean.
My Reflex was doing work now, giving me just enough time to react to punches that would’ve had me reeling just a few days ago. My Body helped too, letting my arms absorb and deflect blows that would’ve otherwise blown straight through my guard.
Still, I knew better than to get cocky.
I could feel it every time I made contact—if one of his serious haymakers landed clean, it would be bad. Really bad.
Redirecting, not resisting, was the only thing keeping my bones intact as we traded space, breath coming faster now, both of us fully locked in and testing just how far this new version of me could actually go.
But, ultimately, I was still trying to figure out where the limits of my new capabilities were.
‘I don’t actually need to play his game like this… If I can keep up with Kenzie speed-wise most of the time, I can definitely keep Jin at bay as well, if I really wanted to. But that wouldn’t let me test my Body, would it now?’
So I leaned into it.
Once I caught the rhythm of Jin’s pressure—his cadence, the way his combinations flowed from one punch into the next—I stopped purely reacting and started answering.
I pushed back into his space and threw my own punch straight down the middle, snapping it out between two of his strikes.
It caught him just a little off-guard.
Not enough to land clean, but enough to make him tighten his guard instead of continuing his advance—and that was all I needed. My fist slammed into his forearms with a sharp clang, the impact ringing up my arm as metal met bone.
I flinched internally.
But… my hand didn’t scream in protest the way I’d half-expected it to.
It hurt, yes, but it was a dull, manageable ache instead of the sharp warning pain that usually followed similarly bad decisions as punching metal. I hadn’t gone full power—no way I was that stupid without data—but even so, the difference to before the Rank-Up was obvious.
‘Huh… okay. That’s new.’
We started trading properly after that.
Jin was still leagues ahead of me in technique and raw punching power, his form tight and punishing, every strike layered with intent. But my own punches, amateurish and basically just following whatever muscle-memory my Skills provided, forced him to respect me now, forced him to keep his guard active instead of fully committing to offense.
I was nowhere near winning the exchange—but I wasn’t losing control of it either.
For about a minute, we just went at it.
Heavy breathing. Guard checks.
Short, brutal exchanges that rattled my arms and shoulders.
My Body held up far better than it had any right to, soaking impacts, letting me keep my structure even when his punches slipped through my defenses just enough to remind me exactly why this was a bad idea.
Eventually, though, I’d had enough data—and enough bruises to last me a lifetime.
‘Alright… test complete.’
I went back to relying on my Reflexes.
As Jin deflected another one of my punches, expecting me to stay in and continue trading, I used the brief opening to explode backward instead. One sharp step turned into two, then three, my feet snapping over the mat as I dashed out of his range despite his immediate attempt to follow.
He lunged, trying to stick to me—but this level of speed in his footwork was decidedly not his game. He was a menace up-close and in a specific range, but chasing somebody down that was running away? Not Jin’s forte.
After all, if I could almost keep up with Kenzie at full tilt, Jin didn’t stand a chance here.
I added kicks as I retreated, full-power snaps toward his midsection that forced him to block instead of chase. Even someone trained to eat punishment like him couldn’t afford to take kicks like that straight to the chest, not when they landed with this much force.
His frustration was obvious.
Jin growled under his breath and surged forward again, redoubling his effort to close the distance—but I was already gone, gliding just outside his reach.
The fight shifted completely, turning into a strange, high-speed chase as I backpedaled and pivoted around him, legs flying, feet barely seeming to touch the ground as I peppered him with more and more kicks.
At first, he powered through it.
That was kind of Jin’s whole thing—eat the damage, push forward, force the fight into a place where his fists and superior technique could do the talking. He kept trying to cut me off instead of chasing straight after me, angling his steps, trying to herd me toward the edge of the mat.
It was smart thinking, no doubt.
But every time he committed, I slipped away again.
A kick to the thigh.
Another to the outside of his leg.
One more snapping into the same spot, over and over, grinding at his movement.
I could see it starting to add up—the slight hitch in his step, the way his stance adjusted just a fraction too late. His breathing grew heavier, shoulders rising and falling more sharply with every failed push.
I felt almost… light in comparison.
My feet moved when I wanted them to move. My balance stayed exactly where I put it, because… of course it did, I had [Elemental Balance]. Even as my lungs burned and sweat trickled down my spine, there was this underlying steadiness to everything I did.
Jin’s patience, on the other hand, was completely gone.
He growled again and forced himself forward, tanking another kick to the leg with a grunt, swinging anyway even though he was still a step short. He threw a desperate punch that cut through empty air as I just managed to step out of reach, the momentum carrying him farther than he’d planned.
Then it happened.
His foot landed a half-beat late. His knee dipped.
A stumble like a muscle inside his leg had simply refused to listen—a cramp.
That was all I needed.
I dashed in.
One instant I was just barely out of range, the next I was right on him, closing the distance faster than he could recover. I dropped my center of gravity and drove into him, arms wrapping around his waist as my shoulder slammed into his midsection.
He tried to brace, but he was too slow.
I put everything I had into it—legs, hips, back—and twisted, ripping him off balance.
The mat rushed up beneath us as I followed through, and Jin hit the ground hard, the impact thudding through the room.
I immediately went to lift my my elbow to slam it down on his head as a follow-up—
“Enough!” Miss K’s voice cracked like a whip.
I froze instantly, scrambling back up to my feet as Jin lay there on the mat, both of us sucking in air like we’d just run full tilt into a wall.
My chest burned. My legs shook a bit.
Jin’s breathing was rough, uneven—and for a split second, the look on his face made my stomach knot.
He looked furious.
‘Oh fuck, is he angry with me…?’ I thought for a brief second.
But then he slammed his fist into the mat with a sharp, frustrated crack, teeth bared as he let out a growl that had nothing to do with me and everything to do with himself.
Yeah. That tracked.
He wasn’t mad that I’d taken him down.
He was mad that he’d spent the entire fight chasing, eating kicks, and never once managed to turn it into the kind of fight he was best at.
Kicked to exhaustion.
Outplayed on movement.
Dropped the moment his body betrayed him.
I exhaled slowly, shoulders sagging as the adrenaline finally started to bleed off.
‘Yeah…’ I thought, watching him slowly start to push himself up with a scowl. ‘I’d probably be pissed too…’
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Comments
Ria
Dojo and Mr shuri are my favorite chapters
Boysenberry83
so good to have you back thanks for the chapter
![blue[k]nights from fantia](https://patrefans.com/kistorage/49226.jpg)
