It wasn't out of fear. It was because when Chisen stood, his blood ran down his thigh to the ground, forming a small red stream that flowed downhill. That stream didn't join the pool of blood beneath Helian's feet. It flowed around him, toward the eastern side of the basin.
Chisen's blood was refusing to be assimilated by Helian's Flowing Water.
That wasn't an ability of Flowing Water, nor was it liquefaction. It was something inherent in the blood itself. A bodily instinct. It was Chisen's body saying-no.
Helian watched that stream of blood, his expression shifting from surprise to something he refused to acknowledge.
He was afraid.
Not because Chisen's blade was fast, and not because Chisen wasn't afraid to die. It was because Chisen's body was rejecting him, while his own body craved Chisen's blood. The prey was rejecting the hunter, choosing for himself how he would die.
"You're insane." Helian repeated what he had said earlier, but the meaning was entirely different. Before, he had said it in admiration of Chisen's ruthlessness. Now, he said it in fear of Chisen's resolve.
Chisen ignored him.
He switched the blade from his right hand to his left. The wound between his right thumb and forefinger was too deep for a steady grip. The wound in his left palm was still there, but the bones hadn't been severed. He could still hold a blade. He gripped the hilt in his left hand, the tip angled down, and held it across his body.
Ebb Tide was still going. Chisen's mouth had dried out completely, his tongue lying against the bottom of it like a lump of dead flesh. His blurred vision had become double vision, then a wash of gray-white. Not the gray-white of dust, but the kind that came before