Back on the other side of the battlefield, another decisive fight was unfolding here.
I stood still, my boots buried in the red snow, my breath steady despite the distant screams and the clash of weapons. Before me, two figures circled one another like predators ready to pounce: Kaelira and General Garlan.
I knew exactly what I was watching. On one side, a veteran clad in clear steel, his movements precise, his gaze unyielding. His shoulders carried the assurance of hundreds of battles, and in his hands shone a legendary sword whose edge could cleave even abyssium. Every flick of his wrist breathed mastery, the discipline of a life entirely devoted to the art of killing.
