My hair flies to the side, my ears ringing from the velocity of the air.

"Hold on to me," he whispers, his voice lulling me to safety.

I swallow hard, fisting my hands into the material of his shirt and holding on to him tightly.

"Can we win this?" I ask in a small voice.

"Do you doubt me?" he fires back, his voice amused.

"No, but⁠—"

"No buts. Do you see the rings on its stomach?" he inquires as he moves us out of the destructive path of the wind.

I nod.

"A naga's weakness is the eleventh ring."

"Oh," I murmur weakly.

"Do not worry about me, human. I will be fine. But you..." he trails off.

My lashes flutter in question as I lean back to study his features.

"Me?"

"You need to stay put. I can only focus if I know you are safe," he states firmly.

"Oh. Okay." I wet my lips. "I can do that."

The corners of his lips curl up.

"Good." He smirks as he flashes us again, this time depositing me behind a couple of trees out of the naga's sight.

"I shall be back soon." He winks. And with that, he's gone from my side, only to appear in front of the naga once more. The serpent is still blowing wind from its mouth, doing its best to aim for Ze. But it's in vain because nothing seems to rattle him.

Ze skillfully cuts through the wind with his sword, steadily gaining distance. The naga's mouth closes briefly—presumably to rest—and Ze takes advantage of it to appear right in front of its belly, slashing a long line through the light blue tissue.

I quickly count the rings, hoping he got the eleventh one. But just as blue blood pours out of the wound, the naga opens its mouth again, this time the sound becoming a screeching noise of pain mixed with anger. Ze is about to strike again when the naga coils its tail, lashing out. Ze flashes out, appearing at another side, only for the naga to aim for him again. It goes on for minutes on end, and I wonder why Ze won't just go for the kill.

It's only when I catch a small glimpse of his features as he's baiting the naga that I realize why he's taking his time.

He's enjoying this.

Just like the previous fight with the foxes or the demon confrontation, he's utterly in his element when he's fighting. He's drawing the fight out on purpose.

The next moment, he gets closer again, cutting through the snake's hide and drawing more of that eerie blue blood.

A smile plays at my lips as I watch him fight like that. He moves as if he were born on the battlefield. Now I realize why he's such a poor conversationalist. He only knows how to speak with his sword.