Razeal moved like a phantom in the snow, his shadow blade dancing through the air with casual grace. His left arm alone carried the fight, each motion so fluid it looked almost lazy yet the impact behind every strike told a different story. Every swing was precise, every block effortless, every counter perfectly angled to turn his opponent's strength against him.
Across from him, Ranguard roared as his body shifted further, dragon blood surging hot in his veins. Crimson scales spread across his arms and chest, claws elongating into weapons of their own. The ground trembled with each of his steps as he poured raw draconic strength into his swings. His crimson blade blurred through the air in wide arcs, each strike capable of splitting boulders, shockwaves cracking the snow and stone beneath their feet.
