They walked until the campfire was nothing more than a distant speck of light against the dark dunes, the desert stretching around them in silence under the stars. The Captain stopped first, turning to face Hajin with his arms crossed.

"Alright, we are far enough," he said, "what did you want to talk about?"

Hajin did not answer with words.

He closed the distance in a single step and sent a kick straight toward the Captain’s head, his boot cutting through the air with enough speed to blur.

The Captain’s arm shot up, catching the kick on his forearm with a solid thud that echoed across the empty dunes. He held it there, his eyes wide for a split second before narrowing into a hard glare.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Hajin pulled his leg back and landed a few feet away, a faint smile crossing his face, "I get what you are going through, you know. The trauma, the guilt, the way it creeps up on you when you least expect it and makes you freeze at the worst possible moment."

The Captain’s jaw tightened, "you do not know what you are talking about."

"Maybe not," he said, his smile not fading, "but I know that you are the Captain. And Captains are supposed to lead, not freeze up and let their team die because they are too busy drowning in their own past."

The Captain’s fists clenched, his breathing getting heavier.

"You are holding your team back," he said, "and if you cannot get past what happened ten years ago, then you have no business standing in front of them."

"Those men who died today, the ones who got impaled by spikes while you stood there listening to the worm talk, they trusted you to lead them and you let them down because you were too busy thinking about yourself."

The Captain’s mana flared, the sand around his feet shifting from the pressure, "you little—"

"Did they know?" he asked, tilting his head, "about Lansa? Did they know their Captain was carrying a decade-old wound that would get them killed the moment things got hard?"

The Captain swung, a heavy punch aimed at Hajin’s face, but he ducked under it with a sharp grin.

’There it is,’ he thought, sidestepping another wild swing, ’I got him angry enough to drop the wall.’

The Captain swung again, a heavy hook that Hajin leaned back from, the wind of it brushing past his nose before he pushed forward and drove his palm into the Captain’s chest. It was not a hard hit, just enough to push him back a step.

"You are fast," the Captain growled, resetting his stance, "but speed won’t save you if I land one clean hit."

"It won’t," he agreed, dropping into a low stance, "but neither will your Shards if you keep fighting like your head is still in the past."

The Captain roared and lunged, his fist driving forward with enough force to stagger a bull, and Hajin met it head-on, his chain-wrapped fist colliding with the Captain’s knuckles in a burst of air that kicked sand across the dunes.

They stood there for a moment, fist against fist, neither giving ground, and the Captain’s eyes widened as he realized the rookie was matching him blow for blow.

"When was the last time you fought without holding back?" Hajin asked, "without thinking about her?"

The Captain’s expression twisted, his jaw tightening as he looked away, "this is why you brought me out here," he said, "not to talk but to fight?"

"Talking will never work went it comes to trauma," he said, "so I had to find another way to get through to you."

The Captain’s fist trembled, then lowered, "you are insane," he said.

"Maybe," Hajin said, pulling his fist back and straightening up, "but you are not freezing up anymore, are you?"

The Captain stared at him, breathing hard, his fists still clenched but his shoulders dropping.

"I really don’t seem to like you," he said.

"I know," Hajin replied, turning back toward the camp, "get some sleep, Captain. We have a long march tomorrow."

He made it three steps before he heard the Captain’s boots shift in the sand.

"Where do you think you are going?"

Hajin turned around and found the Captain already closing the distance, his fist coming in faster than before. He got his arms up just in time, the impact sending him skidding back across the sand with his boots digging furrows.

"You started this," the Captain said, shaking out his hand and stepping forward, "but I decide when it is done."

Hajin shook out his arms, the sting of the block still ringing through his forearms, "I think the point got across. Do not you?"

"No," the Captain said, "you dragged me out here to break through my walls, remember? Walls like that do not crack from one talk and a few hits. So stop acting like you are done and fight me properly."

He lunged again, a rapid combination of jabs and hooks that forced Hajin onto his back foot, dodging and blocking as the Captain pressed forward without giving him a second to breathe.

"You wanted to see what I can do," the Captain said, throwing a kick that Hajin barely jumped over, "then see it."

His mana flared, four shards materialized around his wrist, glowing with amber light. The pressure hit Hajin like a wall, the difference in raw power pressing down on him and making his knees want to buckle.

’Oh,’ he thought, a cold drop of sweat rolling down his temple, ’I might have messed up here.’

The Captain’s fist connected with his guard and sent him flying, his body tumbling across the sand before he caught himself with a hand and pushed back to his feet.

"Get back here," the Captain said, his voice low, "did you think you could provoke a Captain and walk away without consequences?"

Hajin spat out a mouthful of sand and grinned despite himself.

’Well,’ he thought, flexing his fingers as the chain wrapped around his fist, ’I wanted to get through to him. Guess this is what it takes.’

He dropped into a low stance, the chains glowing faintly in the dark.

"Fine," he said, "but do not blame me if you cannot keep up, old man."

The Captain’s lips curled into something that was not quite a smile, "that is more like it."

They charged, both of them closing the distance with nothing between them but sand and the promise of impact.

"WHAT DO YOU TWO THINK YOU ARE DOING?"

Helen’s voice cut through the night, sharp enough to make both of them skid to a halt a few feet apart.

She stood at the top of a nearby dune with her arms crossed, her expression showing that what came next would not be pretty.