Del shifted her feet and barely managed to catch Markus’s punch.

She turned the blow and quickstepped back.

Although he was in his sixties and not using his Skill, the only reason she wasn’t on her ass nursing a new bruise was that he didn’t want her to be.

Del had been in some fights before the System and got her ass handed to her a few times by people much better than her. None of them were like Markus. The man had to have been a professional fighter of some kind.

He was too practiced, too effortless. Watching him fight was like watching a professional dancer, well dance.

And Del was grateful for it.

“Bend your knees a little more,” he called while slowly circling.

“Right foot forward. Good!”

He punched again, and Del blocked, a slight pulse of pain lancing through her forearm.

He followed up with a knee, and she danced back. She wasn’t supposed to attack right now, just defend. If she could last ten seconds without getting knocked down, she would be ecstatic.

Right hook, left, another knee.

As Del slipped under the hook, blocked the left punch, and started to dance back, she saw the old man’s weight shift.

The knees a feint!

She brought her hands up too slowly. The start of Markus’s knee kept going as he snapped his leg up into a kick.

He pulled it short, his boot less than an inch from Del’s nose.

Markus dropped the leg and smiled. “Good instincts. You read the feint.”

She frowned. “Too slow to do anything about it, though.”

He nodded. “That will come with time.” He shifted, bringing his hands up. “Ready to go again?”

Del smiled.

~<>~<>~

Buford leaped off the shield, his paws touching the slanted green wall for a breath before he pushed off.

He sailed forward, and Margie clenched her fist.

Buford swapped with Noodle, and it was the basset hound sailing through the air.

Shadows trailed off him, and his glowing yellow eyes narrowed.

Four shields appeared a half second apart. Noodle landed with a grunt. He turned his head to stare at her.

Margie let the energy build in her hand, and then she clenched her fist.

And then she was five feet in the air, standing on a shield.

“I won’t lie. It's still rather trippy.” If she charged her Skill up fully, it barely took any energy to swap. But that was three full seconds to charge, and holding the charge in reserve drained her focus.

On top of that, suddenly switching places was disorienting as hell.

But despite all that, Margie was in love. It was just so cool!

Especially since she had a little something extra to go with the swap.

Trails of black and red light traced up and down her body, strengthening her from her skin down to her bones.

Best as she could tell so far, her Trait was giving her about 25% of her dog's buffs.

She felt terrific after passing through the Second Threshold. The aches in her joints that had lessened from the First had vanished. Her muscles, her hearing, even her thoughts had been...refined. She liked that word.

She felt healthy.

Jugger-Hound was something past that altogether.

She sprung forward, and shields snapped into place. She charged down the path, her heart pounding in her chest.

The shields went up and down, curved to the right, and even spaced themselves out, so she had to jump a few times.

It was effortless.

Without slowing down, she jumped. She hit the ground and went into a deep crouch. Her legs burned from the activity, but the jump hadn’t come close to harming her.

Micheal whistled. “Now the old lady can beat me in a fistfight. The world is bullshit.”

Margie cackled and shook her fist at him. “And don’t you forget it!”

Buford ran over and started jumping around her. It seemed her running around without involving him was just too much.

“How strong do you think you are, Margie?” Steven asked.

She scratched her skin. “I’m not sure. I feel strong, but that’s a bit vague.” She bent down and grabbed Buford. Be squirmed for a bit before settling down.

Margie set her feet and, with a grunt of effort, lifted the dog.

He cleared the ground, and he started wagging furiously.

She held him for a beat, then set him down. “He’s 190 before Jugger-Hound takes effect. I certainly couldn’t have lifted him before. But I don’t think I’m professional strong man levels of buff yet.”

Micheal nodded. “You’re sturdier than one, though. Twenty-five percent of his durability is no joke. It wouldn’t surprise me if you can take more hits than any unenhanced human now, even before my buff.”

Margie smiled. “I still won’t be doing the lion's share of our damage, but now I can hit things without breaking my old hands.”

Steven hummed. “Which is especially important since you might be switching yourself into danger sometimes.” He paused. “How much energy does a rapid swap take?”

She shrugged. “I haven’t tried it yet.”

Micheal rolled his wrist. “Go on!”

Margie waved him off. “Fine, fine! Don't jostle my elbow about it.”

She studied the Skill icon. It was a red portal with a basset hound entering one end and a malamute coming out the other.

It sat heavy in her mind with more weight to it than her other Skills. She wasn’t sure what the hell that meant, but she couldn’t shake the feeling.

She reached out to Noodle and activated the Skill without build-up.

They swapped, and energy tore out of her. She grunted, but the fatigue faded quickly.

Steven and Micheal stared at her with raised brows. I swear those two are like clones sometimes.

“It’s very noticeable, but it’s not gonna put me on my ass right away. I could do it…eight or nine times in a fight before I’d be tapped out.”

Micheal pursed his lips and nodded. “Not bad at all, honestly.”

Steven walked over to his new shield and rested a hand on it. “Hey, Margie, mind giving me a hand?”

“Oh?”

Steven gestured to Buford. “I need Buford to try and shatter my shields.”

“Oh.”