The battlefield around them continued to shift and evolve. They fought in crumbling cities where buildings became weapons, in void spaces where gravity was optional, in realms of pure energy where thought became substance. Through it all, Elias slowly learned to fight not just with his body and mind, but with the raw force of his will.
The breakthrough came during what felt like the thousandth iteration of their conflict. They stood on a platform of crystallized time, suspended above an ocean of compressed space, their weapons locked in a perfect stalemate. The avatar's blade pressed against Elias's improvised spear, neither able to overpower the other through technique alone.
"You're still holding back," the avatar observed, strain showing in its voice despite its constructed nature. "You've learned to want victory, but you haven't learned to need it."
"What's the difference?" Elias asked through gritted teeth, pouring more force into his weapon.
