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The fight continued.
The three Cullens moved in perfect sync—or at least, as close to it as they could get. Emmett charged with brute force, Rosalie attacked with speed and precision, and Jasper, ever the strategist, searched for openings.
Yet no matter the direction, the intensity, or the timing, Nate dodged.
Every blow was deflected with elegance, every kick evaded with a subtle twist of his body.
There were no blocks, no violent clashes—just a constant, fluid motion. Nate flowed between them with disconcerting calm, never missing a beat, not even seeming to exert himself.
Frustration began to show. Emmett roared when his fist grazed inches from Nate's face and met only air. Rosalie stepped back with an incredulous scowl, her golden hair whipping around her. Jasper, more analytical, adjusted his stance, trying to read the pattern—but even he couldn't predict something Nate hadn't already foreseen.
Rosalie was the first to break the silence between the blows and the hiss of the air.
"I don't get it!" she exclaimed, spinning angrily as Nate dodged another of her strikes. "Can you see the future or something? There's no way you can fight three vampires at once and not be overwhelmed!"
Nate didn't answer right away. He ducked just in time to avoid Jasper's kick, and in one fluid motion, he struck him in the chest with an open palm, sending him flying several meters back. Only then did he speak, his tone as calm as ever.
"Honestly, it's not like you're that well-coordinated…" he said, straightening up. "I get that you're used to fighting solo. Basically, you're getting in each other's way."
Jasper rose from the ground, brushing off the dirt with growing irritation.
"You know that's not what she asked," he retorted, his voice edged with frustration. "It always feels like you know what we're going to do before we do it."
Emmett growled, rubbing his knuckles in annoyance.
"And not just that… your eyes never stop moving. It's creepy. You just glance at us for half a second and somehow already know how we'll strike."
Jasper's eyes widened slightly at that comment. For a moment, he seemed to understand something.
"It's your gift, isn't it?" he murmured, curiosity sharpening his tone. "It has something to do with your eyes…"
A soft laugh came from the edge of the clearing. Alice, who had been watching the fight while leaning against a tree, couldn't hold back.
"I used to think the same thing," she said playfully. "But no… his eyes aren't what's special about him."
Nate smirked at her words. Of course, Alice knew the truth. He'd explained his ability to her long ago, back when they were still with the Denali. Eleazar had helped him understand it—define it, explore its limits.
It wasn't difficult to use his gift; the hard part had been recognizing it. For Nate, it had always been there—so natural it felt like breathing.
The Cullens before him stood still, expectant. Their curiosity was clear, especially in Jasper, who analyzed every microgesture, every breathless stillness, as if he could decipher it himself.
Nate broke the silence with a faint smile.
"Since this is supposed to be a competition," he said in an easy tone, "how about this—if you manage to surprise me, I'll tell you a bit about my ability?"
The proposal landed like a spark in a powder keg.
Emmett grinned widely, his enthusiasm instantly rekindled.
"Now that's more like it!" he roared—and without waiting for a reply, charged forward, his strength vibrating in every earth-shaking step.
Rosalie and Jasper exchanged a brief glance. They hesitated only for a heartbeat—just enough to weigh the choice—before launching forward as well.
Nate, noticing how his offer had ignited their determination, decided to take them more seriously. His expression shifted slightly—a faint tightening of his jaw, a sharper focus in his eyes—and as the Cullens attacked in unison, his body reacted like a living shadow.
He leaped gracefully, soaring over Emmett's head, and when he landed, his movements changed. They became smoother, more aggressive, as if he'd finally stopped holding back.
Rosalie was the first to reach him. Her speed was astounding, her stance impeccable—hands extended, feet anchored, her style faintly reminiscent of the Romanians. Every motion was a blend of precision and lethal grace, her arms slicing through the air with a sharp hum trailing behind.
Nate studied her for only an instant before matching her rhythm.
He began to move just like her, mirroring her gestures with almost inhuman accuracy. They darted side by side, exchanging blows like crossed reflections: every strike Rosalie threw met an identical response—faster, cleaner, stronger.
For a few seconds, Emmett and Jasper froze in disbelief. From where they stood, it looked as if Rosalie were fighting her own shadow. But the difference was clear to their vampiric eyes—Nate moved with superior speed, dissecting and rebuilding her technique in real time, with surgical precision.
"It's a very effective style," Nate remarked quietly, deflecting one of her slashes with a smooth twist. "But it lacks impact."
With a light pivot, he redirected her final strike, spun, and rose into the air, landing a flawless upward kick to her chin. Rosalie hit the ground, rolling once before coming to a stop.
"After every hit, you leave too many openings," he added calmly, straightening with effortless poise.
Rosalie clenched her jaw, pride wounded. For a moment, it seemed she might rise again—but she didn't. She wasn't hurt, only frustrated. Her hands dug into the dirt, her eyes fixed on the ground, her jaw tight with restrained anger.
Emmett watched her from across the clearing. Something in his expression shifted—his grin faded, and with a roar that shook the air, he charged at Nate like a runaway train.
"Emmett, wait—!" Jasper managed to shout, but it was already too late.
Instead of dodging as usual, Nate ran straight at him. His body sank into a low, firm stance, almost like a football player bracing for impact.
The collision echoed through the clearing.
Emmett was hurled backward, smashing into the ground and sending shards of earth flying. He barely had time to recover before Nate was already on him, moving so fast that the air whistled around him.
Instinctively, Emmett raised his hands, trying to block the next attack. But his eyes widened in surprise—Nate hadn't struck him. He had grabbed his hands instead.
For a moment, Emmett smiled.
If he had him in his grasp, he could finally make some ground. No dodges, no deflections—just raw force. He growled and pushed forward with all his strength. The ground began to crack beneath their feet.
From a distance, Jasper shook his head with a nearly resigned sigh.
"Emmett… I told you already," he murmured. "You can't overpower a newborn."
Nate barely frowned, responding to the push. His fingers closed with a grip both controlled and crushing, and with a firm motion, he pressed down.
The ground gave way slightly beneath Emmett. In a second, he was on his knees, muscles taut, eyes wide with disbelief.
"You rely too much on your strength," Nate said calmly. "And while it's impressive… There will always be someone stronger. And even if there weren't, experience alone can tip the scales."
He released Emmett's hands, spun around, and delivered a direct kick to his face. The impact roared like thunder, sending Emmett flying backward into a tree that split in half on impact.
For a moment, the entire forest seemed to hold its breath.
Leaves drifted slowly, floating between them as the dust settled.
Jasper watched silently as Emmett slowly got back on his feet. His hands showed small cracks, as if the pressure had been too much even for his hardened skin. He rubbed his knuckles, let out a frustrated puff, and finally sank down against a fallen trunk, frowning with clenched jaw.
When Jasper realized Emmett had no intention of continuing, he stepped forward. His expression turned serious, and he assumed a fighting stance: feet planted firmly, fists raised, eyes locked on Nate.
Nate watched him in silence for a moment before advancing calmly. He stopped a few meters away and, almost instinctively, mirrored the same posture: shoulders relaxed, chin steady, guard ready.
For several seconds, they simply stared at each other. The silence was dense, electric, charged with contained tension.
It was Nate who broke the stillness.
"To be honest, of the three, you're by far the best fighter."
His voice was calm, devoid of mockery; just an objective statement.
"You don't panic, you don't strike without thinking, and you don't get frustrated. You analyze everything around you and wait for the right moment to attack."
Jasper's golden eyes narrowed slightly, intrigued.
"I know you've trained newborns at some point," Nate continued. "So you're used to dealing with vampires faster and stronger than you…" He said in an unexpectedly honest tone. "It's very impressive."
Jasper was momentarily taken aback by the precision of Nate's words. He couldn't deny it: hearing that recognition filled him with quiet satisfaction. After all, Nate had demonstrated skill surpassing anything he'd seen before.
Yet the newborn's tone shifted slightly, becoming more analytical.
"But there's something that limits your technique. It's too… rigid."
Jasper frowned, lowering his fists slightly without thinking.
"Rigid? What do you mean?"
Nate stepped forward, the light filtering through the trees outlining his silhouette.
"I mean that no matter how effective your fighting style is, it won't always work. You have the same problem as Kate: you've relied too much on a single style, almost assuming anything else would be ineffective. You wait for your opponent to make a mistake, or try to provoke them by altering their emotions. But that won't always help."
As he spoke, Nate raised his guard again, his tone as serene as before.
"Sometimes you need to adapt. Do not rely on a single trick. Being cautious is smart, but if you'd been more aggressive when all three of you attacked me, you'd have had more chances to overwhelm me."
Jasper nodded slightly and resumed his stance. The tension returned to the air, as if the entire forest were holding its breath.
Nate subtly moved his right hand, pushing it forward as if to throw a punch.
"The opponent won't always show a gap…"
Jasper noticed and attempted to block the strike, raising his hand—but Nate spun on his axis with impossible agility. His leg arced perfectly through the air before striking Jasper squarely in the chest. The blow was crisp and powerful, sending him flying backward.
"…sometimes you have to create it."
Jasper fell, rolled across the ground, and sprang up in one motion, dusting his shirt off. His breathing was calm, but his expression had shifted: sharper, more analytical.
Nate observed him quietly and nodded.
"Move. Think. If something doesn't work, find another way. There's no single correct method, no one way to win."
For a moment, Jasper seemed to weigh each word. There was something about the way Nate spoke—that firm, almost pedagogical calm—that made it impossible to ignore.
Nate noticed his thoughtful expression and offered a small smile.
"But don't take it as criticism. Your technique isn't wrong. It's just that against someone like me, it won't be enough."
His smile faded, and with a coldness that contrasted with his previous tone, he raised his fists once more.
"You still have the chance to surprise me… want to try again?"
Jasper straightened, ready to continue. He stepped forward, adjusting his guard, prepared to attempt something different.
But something behind Nate caught his attention, making him pause. His gaze flicked for a split second… just enough for Nate to furrow his brow, sensing a slight twinge along his back.
He opened his eyes, surprised, and in an instant, his expression shifted. His look turned fierce. He spun with impossible speed, arm raised, ready to deliver a devastating blow…
But he stopped abruptly.
Behind him, Alice watched with a mischievous smile, her finger still extended at the exact spot where she had touched him.
Nate tilted his head, clearly confused.
Alice, enjoying the incredulous look on his face, stifled a giggle. Her eyes sparkled with mischief.
"That counts as surprising you, right?"