Page 81 of Caught in the Devil’s Hand

She became light-headed and her knees shook. He held her more firmly, keeping her upright, and she listened to her heartbeat as she clung to him. He embraced her for what felt like an hour, but was probably only a moment, and when he pulled back from their chaste kiss, he laid his hand on her back.

She inhaled sharply, loudly. She felt as if she were running all-out, flying through the void at a speed her legs and her lungs could not handle. Panting, she felt faint. Fatigue turned into nausea.

“What’s…h-happening?” she gasped, strength evaporating.

“You are learning stamina. The drained feeling will not last long.”

Even from this close, she couldn’t see his face clearly. Not the shape of his nose, the line of his jaw, or the tilt of his eyes. She supposed it didn’t really matter because, as a god, he didn’t have a physical form.

“W-Why…can’t I…see you clearly?” she asked. Her legs lost their strength, and her grip on his shoulders slipped, but he gently and easily kept her in place against his chest.

“You haven’t decided what I look like yet,” he answered, wearing that hazy smile again. “That’s enough.” He took his hand off her back and lifted her higher in his embrace. “I’ll now share my strength with you. I know you shall use it well.”

She could no longer even hold her head up, she was so exhausted and sore, but the Divine One gently cupped the back of her head and supported her as he curled close. He exhaled into her mouth, the perfume of his breath like the sweetness of honey, warm like the sun. It softened and soothed her tired muscles. Her aches faded, leaving behind only a heavy drowsiness like what she felt when waking too early.

He exhaled a second time, and the scent was of mint and fresh rain. Her limbs tingled as her lungs absorbed his divine breath, and she was able to lift her arms again, which she wrapped around his shoulders. The soles of her feet found purchase and she stood straighter in his arms.

He exhaled a third time, filling her with cinnamon, ginger, and laughter. Her heart sped, but her body felt loose and ready. She thought of Vallen and the scent of a rare spice on his skin.

The Divine One kissed her once more, light and gentle, this one simply meant to comfort. A tear slipped down her cheek. He caught the tear with his lips and lifted his head. She felt energized and limber, prepared for anything, and opened her eyes.

“Time for you to prove yourself to the head of House Sakura. Her childhood was rather painful, Champion. She readily mistrusts others. Help her find a way to heal.”

He gently released her from his embrace and she looked at him pensively, turning his words over in her mind. The Divine One placed his hands on her shoulders.

“Don’t hit her too hard,” he said with a smile in his voice. Then he turned her away from him, and she swung back into her world. Mai was still there in front of her, her long braids suspended behind her.

“Now,” he whispered in her ear.

The world slammed back into place. Dodging left, Shumei swiftly leaned back to avoid Mai’s fists. The balls of energy, what Shumei now knew as Flying Fists, shot out of the other woman’s hands as she shouted the keyword, and both spun away harmlessly to hit the ground, sending leaves into the air.

“Tsuyosa,” Shumei whispered. Her magic eagerly complied with her wishes, and every muscle in her body tightened, burning with strength.

Mai stumbled to a halt, whipping her head around in surprise, but she quickly recovered, much to her own credit. She brought up her hands, and a giant ball of energy rapidly formed in her palms.

“No,” Rosuke hollered. Shumei ignored him this time. Mai was simply creating a large version of the Flying Fist called the Flying Kick. It would be easy to deflect.

“Kaihou,” Mai called out, and the monstrously large green ball flew at her like lightning.

Shumei crossed her forearms in front of her. “Kagami,” she shouted, and a large shimmering circle appeared.

Mai gasped as her Flying Kick bounced off Shumei’s summoned mirror and was sent shooting back at her at twice its original speed. Mai tried to use a blocking spell, but she didn’t even finish the keyword before the ball slammed into her, knocking her back. Luckily, she didn’t hit a tree before she landed.

“Go, sis, go,” her brother exclaimed.

Having hardly broken a sweat, she stared at Mai’s prone form for a moment. She expected Mai to get up and try something new, but Mai didn’t even twitch.

“Don’t hit her too hard.”

“Shimatta,” she whispered.

She quickly ran to Mai, worried she had seriously hurt her. A stride away, Mai flipped over.

Shumei threw her arm in front of her. “Tate!” Mai’s Flying Fist ricocheted off her magical shield, smacking into a tree and scattering shards of bark. She then kicked at her, but Shumei dodged aside and landed a hit on Mai’s leg that made her opponent cry out.

Mai shot to her feet, wincing as she put weight on her injured ankle. She darted forward and dropped her shoulder. Shumei saw Mai’s fist coming a mile away. She had already called upon her strength spell and blocked with one arm as she brought her other hand up to catch Mai’s second fist. She jerked Mai forward and onto her raised knee, softening the blow as much as she could. She didn’t want to rupture anything.

Mai grunted, the wind knocked out of her, and jerked out of Shumei’s grasp. Her furrowed brow and gnashed teeth spoke to her frustration as she stood there, rubbing her stomach and wincing. Clearly, she was about to do something rash.