The air cracked with tension. Sparks of lightning danced on one side, while black flames hissed on the other. In the center of the Skyvault Sanctum, two powerful fighters stood face to face.
Kael, his katana wrapped in blackfire, stood tall and calm. His eyes were sharp, his posture straight. He was ready.
Across from him, Kalix wore a soft smile, his golden patterns glowing faintly across his skin. His white robe fluttered with each movement of the wind. He bounced lightly on his feet, as if he were still dancing instead of preparing to fight.
"Don't hold back," Kael said.
"I never do," Kalix replied, a playful glint in his eye.
And just like that, they both moved at once.
Kael dashed forward, his katana slashing in a clean arc. Kalix twisted his body sideways in mid-air, barely dodging the strike, then flipped over Kael's head and landed behind him, aiming a sharp kick.
Kael blocked it with the flat of his blade, sending a spark of blackfire against Kalix's leg.
Kalix laughed.
"Nice hit," he said. "You're not bad."
Kael didn't respond. He spun, bringing his sword upward toward Kalix's chest, but Kalix bent backward in a smooth arc, the blade missing him by inches. He planted his hands on the ground and kicked up, spinning like a wheel before landing again on his feet.
Kael narrowed his eyes. He had fought many opponents. But no one moved like Kalix.
Still, he wasn't going to lose.
He lunged again. Kalix dodged. Kael ducked low. Kalix leapt high. They moved around the Sanctum like two forces of nature, thunder and fire clashing with each other again and again.
Each strike shook the air.
Each dodge looked like a dance.
At one point, Kael slashed forward while Kalix spun around and let the blade pass just behind his back, the golden lines on his skin flashing.
Kael gritted his teeth. "Stop dancing."
Kalix laughed again. "But I'm having fun."
Outside the battle, Orin and Drakar stood together. Drakar still held his axe, one wing drooping from his earlier injury. He looked restless, eyes fixed on the fight.
"I can still fight," he muttered. "I can help him."
Orin shook his head. "This isn't our fight anymore."
"But..."
"Watch carefully," Orin said. "This fight isn't just about power. It's about understanding. Let them finish it." Drakar hesitated, then nodded. He stayed still, his eyes locked on the clash ahead.
The battle only grew fiercer.
Kael was now on the move, faster, more aggressive. His blackfire flared with each swing. The floor beneath him cracked with every step.
Kalix no longer smiled.
He was dodging, yes, but also breathing heavier. His movements were still fast, still graceful, but he was starting to feel it.
Kael's blade finally landed a cut across Kalix's arm. Sparks flew. Kalix jumped back, golden lines glowing brighter now.
"You're improving," Kalix said. "Not bad at all."
Kael said nothing. He rushed forward again.
Their blades clashed, one made of pure thunder, the other wrapped in dark flame.
Kalix moved upward, flipping over Kael's head, landing behind him and swinging his leg for another hit. Kael ducked low, rolled, and came up with a powerful upward slash. This time, it connected.
The blackfire roared as the katana sliced through Kalix's side. Kalix's eyes widened as the cut glowed across his chest. His body staggered back.
He looked at the wound, surprised.
Then he smiled. "Well," he whispered. "Looks like you win."
And just like that, Kalix's body started to turn to ash.
Golden light flaked away from his skin. He looked at Kael one last time. He said quietly. "That was fun." And then he was gone.
Only ash remained, carried away by the wind.
Kael stood there, breathing hard. Everyone else watched in silence. Kael lowered his sword. His fire faded. But instead of cheering or feeling proud, his face remained calm, almost… hollow.
He looked at the place where Kalix had vanished. Was this really victory? He didn't know.
So he turned away, walking slowly back toward the others, eyes down, mind deep in thought.
---
The Echoing Hollow
Nira leapt to the side as another wind cutter sliced past her face. She rolled and came back to her feet, her dagger glowing with green energy.
Ristella floated high above, her arms wrapped in flowing wind. Her eyes were still distant, but focused. She spun gently in place, launching blast after blast toward Nira and Doran.
Doran charged from the side, swinging his hammer. He caught one of the wind blades with his arm, grunting in pain but not stopping. He aimed for Ristella again.
Nira planted her feet and drove her hands into the ground. Vines and roots exploded upward, wrapping around the stone arches of the Hollow. The roots reached for Ristella, trying to bind her down, to close the distance.
Ristella dodged again, floating higher. One of the wind cutters finally caught Nira across her shoulder. She hissed in pain but kept moving forward.
Then, Junith stepped forward.
She didn't attack.
She didn't shout.
She simply said, "I have a plan."
Nira and Doran both paused for a moment. Ristella floated silently above, watching.
Junith's eyes were steady. Focused.
It was time to change the flow of this battle too.
---
Across the battlefield, the winds of battle were starting to shift.
Some had fallen.
Some had grown.
But none had given up.
And as Kael wiped the blood from his blade, and Junith began to speak.