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Na\'mer\'s every move was calculated, each step a step toward victory. He relied on his enhancer-type magic, his speed allowing him to close the distance between them in the blink of an eye. His strikes were precise, meant to exploit any opening he could find. But he knew better than to underestimate Reia, especially after their earlier exchange.

As they clashed, his inner monologue was a symphony of strategy. "Stay on the move, keep her off balance. Wait for the poison to take hold. Survive until then." These thoughts drove his every move, each action a calculated step toward his goal. His tail lashed out like a lethal weapon, his strikes fierce and unrelenting.

Reia\'s taunts only fueled his determination. "Your speed is impressive, Na\'mer," she remarked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "But do you really think that alone can win you this battle?" Her words were like daggers, each one aimed at his confidence.

Inwardly, Na\'mer grinned. He knew she was trying to rattle him, to shake his focus. But he was resolute. His speed was his advantage, and he would use it to its fullest extent. He dodged her metaphysical attacks, his movements graceful yet efficient. He knew the real challenge was surviving until the poison kicked in.

Reia\'s attacks were ethereal, almost poetic in their execution. Each strike seemed to dance on the edge of reality, and Na\'mer had to push himself to the limits to evade them. But his determination was unwavering. He had a plan, and he would execute it flawlessly.

As the battle raged on, Na\'mer\'s heart raced, his breathing steady as he continued to weave between Reia\'s attacks. His tail struck with precision, aiming for her vulnerabilities. And every time he managed to evade her onslaught, a feeling of triumph surged within him.

Yet, even as he executed his strategy, Na\'mer couldn\'t shake the feeling that he was missing something. Reia\'s magic was still a mystery to him, her attacks unpredictable and multifaceted. His mind worked overtime, analyzing her patterns, trying to uncover the underlying mechanics of her power.

Reia\'s laughter, light and almost mocking, echoed in the room. "Having trouble figuring me out, Na\'mer?" she taunted, her eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and challenge. "I must say, your confusion is quite entertaining."

Na\'mer\'s lips quirked in response. He wasn\'t about to reveal his hand. He continued to press forward, his attacks relentless. He couldn\'t afford to falter now, not when victory was within his reach. He could feel the poison\'s effects growing, slowly but surely.

And then, something shifted. Reia\'s steps faltered, her movements growing slightly unsteady. Na\'mer\'s heart quickened. This was it—the moment he had been waiting for. The poison was taking hold, and victory was within his grasp.

As Reia stumbled, her vision blurring, Na\'mer\'s laughter filled the room. "It seems the poison has finally taken its hold," he remarked, his voice laced with a mixture of satisfaction and triumph. He had endured, he had outmaneuvered her, and now he was on the brink of victory.

But Reia\'s response was not one of defeat. Instead, her lips curved into a small smile, her expression unyielding even in the face of adversity. "Remember, Na\'mer," she spoke softly, her words carrying a weight of wisdom. "Appearances can be deceiving, and victory gained through deceit can be hollow."

Na\'mer\'s triumph faltered for a split second as her words registered. He had expected her to crumble, to admit defeat. But she remained defiant, her spirit unbroken. The realization hit him like a gust of wind, chilling and unexpected.

Even as his laughter echoed, Na\'mer\'s mind raced to reevaluate the situation. Victory might have been within his grasp, but the game was far from over. Reia was not an opponent to be underestimated, and he had a sinking feeling that the battle had only just begun.

The atmosphere crackled with tension as Na\'mer\'s muscles surged in size, his form transforming into a towering giant, muscles bulging and veins pulsating beneath his skin. He was a behemoth, an intimidating force that radiated power and danger. With a primal roar, he lunged forward, his enhanced strength propelling him towards the poisoned Reia, the anticipation of victory electrifying the air.

But even as Na\'mer\'s strike was poised to land, doubt crept into his mind like a whisper in the wind. This was too easy, he thought. Could he be falling into a trap? His instincts screamed at him to pull back, to reassess the situation, to not be blinded by the allure of certain victory.

And then, in an instant, his suspicions were realized. A massive rock hurtled through the air, smashing into Na\'mer with brutal force. The impact sent him hurtling backward, his body crashing into the ground with a resounding thud. As the dust settled, his colossal form dwindled, his muscles receding, and he was left sprawled on the ground, his breathing labored and his pride wounded.

Reia\'s laughter echoed in the room, a mixture of amusement and triumph. "So, you\'re a red scorpion," she mused, her voice dripping with confidence. "A species of scorpion that can alter its muscle mass at will." Her words were a revelation, a display of her understanding of his abilities.

Na\'mer\'s frown deepened, a mixture of frustration and realization crossing his features. "Was she faking the poison to gather more information about me?" he wondered, his mind racing to catch up with the unexpected turn of events.

With an effortless grace, Reia rose to her feet, seemingly unaffected by the poison that had previously afflicted her. Her eyes gleamed with a confidence that only intensified Na\'mer\'s frustration. "Seems you didn\'t do enough research on me," she remarked, her tone laced with an almost playful arrogance. "You would have known that I am also extremely resistant to poisons."

Na\'mer\'s muscles tensed, his mind racing to formulate a new plan, to regain control of the battle that had slipped from his grasp. His opponent was not only formidable but cunning, and his own arrogance had been his downfall. He gritted his teeth, a fierce determination burning in his eyes as he prepared to face the onslaught that awaited him.

Reia\'s expression was resolute, her stance unwavering. "You see, Na\'mer," she began, her voice calm yet charged with energy, "being an S-ranker means understanding the strengths and weaknesses of your opponents. And it seems you underestimated me." With those words, she launched herself into motion, her movements swift and calculated.

Na\'mer\'s grin returned, a mixture of fury and admiration, his previous arrogance now tempered by a newfound respect. "I see now, S-rankers are truly amazing," he admitted, his voice laced with a begrudging acknowledgment. He pushed himself to his feet, his body aching but his spirit unbroken. "So, if I can successfully assassinate you," he continued, his grin turning into a fierce expression, "that would make me even better."

The battle raged on, a symphony of magic, strategy, and sheer determination. Each strike was a testament to their skills, each evasion a dance of life and death. Na\'mer\'s movements were agile, his strikes relentless, as he sought to prove himself against an opponent who had shattered his initial expectations.

And Reia met him with equal fervor, her attacks both ethereal and deadly. She moved with a grace that belied her strength, her every strike calculated to exploit Na\'mer\'s vulnerabilities. The room was a whirlwind of power, a clash of titans vying for dominance.

But Na\'mer was no longer blinded by arrogance. He had learned the hard way that victory required more than brute strength and confidence. He had to adapt, to anticipate his opponent\'s moves, and to embrace strategy over sheer force. As they clashed, his mind raced, analyzing each move, each feint, and each subtle shift in Reia\'s stance.

The battle was far from over, and Na\'mer was determined to prove himself, not only as an assassin but as a formidable adversary. The Thorne room was a stage for their clash of wills, a battleground where victory was uncertain and the outcome hung in the balance.

In the midst of the intense battle, Na\'mer\'s mind raced, analyzing every move and countermove. His previous overconfidence had been replaced with a hard-earned respect for Reia\'s skill. "She outmatches my speed and combat abilities," he admitted to himself, a hint of frustration tinging his thoughts. He knew that relying solely on his physical prowess would lead to his defeat.

His thoughts raced as he considered his options. "However, I have one last trick up my sleeve," he mused, his mind calculating the best course of action. He needed to find a way to catch Reia off guard, even just for a moment. "I will need to somehow make her drop her guard one more time," he realized, understanding that a small opening could be all he needed to turn the tide of the battle.

A feeling of desperation gnawed at him as his exhaustion began to take its toll. "If only I could get some time to rest," he thought, a longing for a brief respite from the relentless combat. He acknowledged his limitations, recognizing that as an assassin, he was not built for prolonged battles of attrition.

And then, almost as if his silent prayers were answered, Reia unexpectedly came to a halt. Na\'mer\'s breaths came in ragged gasps as he regarded her cautiously, his mind whirling with both suspicion and cautious hope.

"Let\'s take a little break," Reia announced, her voice carrying a surprising hint of compassion. "I can tell you\'re exhausted, and the way this fight is going, you will definitely lose your life. So, I think I should take this time to squeeze some more information out of you."

Na\'mer\'s eyes narrowed as he regarded Reia warily. Her sudden change in approach was unexpected, and he found himself grappling with conflicting emotions. He was caught between his desire to seize the opportunity for rest and the lingering doubt that this could be another one of her tactics.

His chest heaved as he tried to steady his breathing, the sweat on his brow evidence of his exhaustion. He met Reia\'s gaze, his expression tense. "I have no qualms explaining everything to you," he responded, his voice holding a mix of defiance and fatigue. "Since I don\'t plan on letting you walk out of here..."

The words hung in the air, a declaration of his unwavering intent to emerge victorious from the battle. Na\'mer\'s body ached, his muscles protesting against the strain he had put them through. But his determination burned bright, fueled by a desire to prove his worth and secure his place in the annals of history.

As the momentary ceasefire settled over them, Na\'mer\'s mind continued to work, calculating his next move, considering every possible advantage he could exploit. The battle was far from over, and the Thorne room remained a battleground of wills and abilities. Na\'mer knew that he needed to seize this opportunity, to rest and strategize, in order to have any chance of emerging triumphant against the formidable Reia.