CHAPTER 159: VELOCITY BREAK

The impact cracked through the arena like thunder bottled inside glass. For a moment, everything blurred—motion, sound, light—until the two fighters separated, flung backward by sheer recoil.

Jisoo hit the ground hard.

The breath left her lungs in a sharp exhale, her shoulder grinding against the broken stone floor as she rolled once, then came to a shaky stop. Dust clouded around her. She coughed, blinking rapidly, her vision unsteady and muscles slow to respond.

The Talaria still clung to her feet—faintly glowing, but sparking. Flickering.

"Come on," she muttered through grit teeth, one hand pressing to the floor.

She pushed herself upright, swaying slightly, legs trembling.

Across the arena, her opponent—tall, broad, wielding a curved blade that shimmered like heat mirage—landed in a low stance. Controlled. Precise.

Unlike her, they hadn’t staggered. Their breath was calm. Their eyes focused. Even now, they were already moving in again, bootfalls quiet but steady, raising the blade for another strike.

Jisoo clenched her fists. "No rest, huh?"

Her legs tensed as she prepared to dash—but her timing faltered. The Talaria triggered late. Just a fraction of a second, but it was enough.

The blade screamed through the air.

Jisoo leaned back at the last second, the edge missing her cheek by a breath. She ducked, twisted, and kicked backward—flashing out in a stuttering dash that left glowing footprints behind her.

But when she landed, her knees buckled.

Something was off.

She’d used this item for weeks now—relied on it for every battle, every retreat, every decisive push. But now? It wasn’t reacting. Not like before.

Her eyes narrowed.

Was it burning out? Or was she?

The other fighter didn’t hesitate. They surged forward again, their movement fluid—controlled momentum, no wasted energy.

Jisoo had always been fast. Always dodged what others couldn’t. But speed wasn’t enough here. This opponent wasn’t just fast—they were measured.

They cut off her angles. Predicted her rebounds. Met her before she could reposition.

The worst part?

They didn’t even seem to be trying that hard.

Another swing. Jisoo darted left—late. The blade clipped her shoulder, slicing into the fabric of her suit. No blood, not yet. But the sting was real.

She gasped, pushing herself into a slide that took her under the next strike. Her hands scraped against the floor. She pivoted, aimed a kick at the back of her opponent’s leg—

They spun with it. Countered. Drove a fist toward her jaw.

Jisoo threw herself backward. Hit the ground. Rolled.

Her chest heaved. The Talaria sparked again—but the glow was fainter now.

Jin watched from the glass above, eyes narrowed. "She’s... off."

Yujin leaned closer to the barrier. "Something’s wrong with her movement."

"She’s hesitating," Jin said. "Or worse—her timing’s slipping."

Jisoo forced herself upright once more, sweat matting her bangs to her forehead. Her opponent didn’t speak. They weren’t gloating. Just advancing. Steadily. Like a tidal wave with legs.

And all Jisoo could do was try to stay ahead of it.

She gritted her teeth.

"I thought I’d gotten used to this," she muttered under her breath. "I thought the shoes were the edge I needed."

She blinked hard.

"But I’m still losing."

The other fighter lunged again, blade arcing down.

Jisoo dashed right—but again, her body didn’t move quite fast enough. A second too late. A second behind what she knew she was capable of.

The attack skimmed her ribs. This time, it drew blood.

The heat of it stole her breath. She hit the floor again, gasping, hand clutching her side.

A shadow loomed.

She looked up—and the blade was poised above her throat.

For a moment, everything slowed.

Time. Her thoughts. Her breathing.

The Talaria didn’t shine. Her body was heavy. Her limbs wouldn’t respond.

[Warning: System Notice – Fatigue + Stabilization Conflict Detected.]

She blinked.

What?

Another line appeared.

[Skill Performance Threshold Approaching Limit.]

[Item-Skill Sync at 19%.]

She stared at the text—but couldn’t even process it.

The blade above her didn’t descend.

The other fighter was waiting.

Letting her rise.

Giving her a chance.

Not out of mercy.

Out of respect.

Or maybe... curiosity.

Jisoo pushed herself up. Blood trailed down her side. Her legs wobbled beneath her.

The blade didn’t move.

She thought of the Minotaur. Of the stone halls. Of getting left behind because she wasn’t fast enough to keep up. Of being protected. Of being saved.

Always.

By someone else.

She thought of Jin.

Of Yujin.

And something inside her snapped.

The Talaria didn’t just glow.

They ignited.

Jisoo screamed.

Not in pain—but in effort. In defiance.

A pulse burst from her feet—pure force, not dash. Her figure blurred, disappearing and reappearing ten feet away in a single distorted blink.

She skidded across the arena, arms flailing, barely staying upright.

Her body couldn’t handle it.

But her will

could.

She braced her hands on her knees, breathing fast, hard, trying to hold herself together.

And the system responded.

[Potential Approaching Overlap Threshold.]

Jin’s eyes widened. "That’s new..."

Yujin blinked. "Her skill..."

The Talaria didn’t just pulse.

They changed.

The golden wings at their side sharpened. The glow narrowed. And Jisoo, despite the blood, despite the pain—

She smiled.

Weakly.

"Again," she whispered.

Her opponent didn’t hesitate.

A sharp shift of their feet and they lunged forward once more—sword sweeping wide, cutting through the light with unnerving force. Jisoo’s body moved before her mind caught up. The golden wings flicked hard, launching her to the side mid-sprint. The dodge came at the cost of another bruise—another blast of pressure. The arena cracked beneath her heels as she landed in a stagger.

She was running on threads. Breath tight. Muscles trembling.

But she wouldn’t stop.

Couldn’t.

She flicked her wrist, and the Hermes Talaria flared once more—trying to ignite another burst of acceleration. But it stuttered. The glow sputtered out, and she stumbled mid-step, skidding hard into the side wall.

Pain lanced through her ribs. Her shoulder struck the floor next.

"Damn it," she hissed, dragging herself up. "I told you not to overdo it..."

But the shoes didn’t answer. They weren’t broken—just overtaxed.

They weren’t the problem.

She was.

From across the arena, her opponent stared—not smug, not cocky. Just watching.

Studying.

"You can’t rely on something you can’t control," they said calmly.

The words struck harder than the blow.

And Jisoo knew it.

They were right.

She’d thought she could push through. Burn through her limits by latching onto a tool stronger than she was. Use its strength to fill the gaps in hers. But the harder she tried to force it, the more it fought back.

She was asking the wrong question.

It wasn’t how fast the shoes could go.

It was how far she could take herself.

Her hand curled into a fist against the stone. She breathed once, deep.

Again.

And again.

The world muted. The crowd. The system. Her opponent’s stance.

Just the rush of her own pulse. The faint glimmer still alive in her body.

The pull of potential brushing against the ceiling she hadn’t broken yet.

Not broken...

But shaking.

Fracturing.

And then—

[Warning: User Potential Approaching Limit.]

[Limit Breached – Adaptive Trait Detected.]

[Unique Skill Evolution Unlocked.]

[Skill: Momentum Step → Skill: Takheíform]

[All stats increased temporarily.]

[Stamina and Energy Fully Restored.]

Light exploded from beneath her feet.

Not like before. Not golden wings flaring. Not divine.

It was motion itself. A shimmering current of speed that twisted around her like a cloak—less a burst, more a shift. As if time noticed her again. As if her body finally remembered what it was trying to become.

The pain dulled.

The trembling vanished.

And she stood tall.

Her opponent stepped back a half-pace. Not out of fear. Just to adjust.

Because something changed.

Jisoo rolled her shoulder slowly. Her smile now wasn’t weak.

It was calm.

Confident.

The system echoed in her mind.

Takheíform

She didn’t need wings anymore.

She was momentum now.

She vanished.

Not as a blur. Not as a blink.

She moved without pause—pure directional control, slipping past the sword slash aimed for where she’d been. She folded into movement, turned a dodge into a pivot, spun and launched into a grounded sweep that clipped her opponent’s legs out from beneath them before they even saw it coming.

They hit the ground hard, sword scraping.

Jisoo didn’t give them space to recover. She dashed again—less a dash, more a threaded line of force, using the rebuilt arena itself as her propulsion path.

She came from the left this time.

They barely blocked.

She came from the right.

The blade scraped her shoulder, but she didn’t flinch. The blow couldn’t catch her anymore.

Jin watched from his cube above, eyes wide.

"That’s not just a skill," he murmured. "That’s true freedom."

Even Yujin leaned forward. "She’s not blinking or jumping. It’s like she’s riding every frame."

Jisoo’s opponent tried again to adjust, resetting their stance, body low—but they were reacting now. Always reacting.

Jisoo moved first.

Always.

The final clash didn’t come with a shout or a massive explosion.

It came in silence.

She darted forward one last time—legs coiled, hands steady. She twisted low beneath a slash, kicked upward mid-spin, caught the wrist holding the sword with one hand—

—and slammed them into the wall behind her with a full-body torque that shattered stone on impact.

They dropped their weapon.

The system chimed:

[Victory – Jisoo Won.]