The mist hung thick over the bridge, the silence sharp after Gareth's collapse.
Sinatara stepped forward, drawing her blade in one smooth motion.
Its edge gleamed pale through the mist — a katana-shaped weapon, thin, curved, and perfect.
She held it low, the stance calm yet lethal.
Her silver hair caught the dim light, eyes narrowing as she studied Nessy.
Across from her, Doran's expression hardened — the easy calm gone from his face.
He reached into his pouch, pulling out a small patch of yellow dust.
Then another flask — filled with clear, rippling water from the Veil stream nearby.
He poured the water onto the dust, and the mixture hissed, glowing faintly.
A thick swirl of yellow and orange smoke rose as the liquid deepened in color.
Doran's voice was steady, low, commanding.
"It's called Ember's blood."
Nessy stepped closer, eyes fixed on the strange light flickering in his hands.
Doran nodded at her. "Use it."
She pulled two bandages from her belt — white, worn, but strong.
She poured the Ember's Blood over them. The fabric sizzled, pulsing like molten light.
Steam curled as she tied them tightly around her fingers, the glow flaring brighter.
A yellow-orange radiance spread through the mist, lighting her fists like dawnfire.
She flexed her fingers, heat rippling faintly through the air.
"This weapon," Doran said, watching carefully, "is called Auroracrusher."
Nessy blinked, half-smiling despite the tension.
"Auroracrusher? That's… a quiet strange name for a weapon."
Doran's gaze didn't waver. "Strange or not — it's killed armies before."
The mist shivered at his tone, heavy with memory.
Nessy looked down at her glowing hands, feeling the Veil thrum beneath her skin.
"The Kharuun warriors use this… but not most," she said quietly.
Her eyes lifted, glowing faintly gold beneath the light.
"It's only reserved for the geniuses of the Veil — and the strongest folk."
The orange shimmer intensified, forming faint glyphs across the gauntlets.
Sinatara tilted her head, her expression unreadable.
"Then which are you, girl? Genius… or strong?"
Nessy smiled faintly, her stance lowering, energy pulsing like flame.
"I'm both."
She raised her arms, the bridge glowing beneath her feet.
"I'm one of the top thousand strongest young warriors the West."
The wind rose between them — Veil energy crackling in anticipation.
Sinatara's katana gleamed coldly as she shifted her footing.
Nessy's fists burned bright, the mist swirling in golden light.
Tarvan stepped back from Sinatara, his voice calm but resolute , he said.
"Begin."
Sinatara stood still, her katana resting lightly against her shoulder.
Her expression was calm — too calm — as if this battle meant nothing at all.
The mist coiled lazily around her feet, the air humming with faint Veil tension.
She exhaled softly, her tone almost gentle.
"You don't have to do this, girl."
Nessy's fists burned faintly orange, her stance tense but uncertain.
Sinatara took a slow step forward, eyes steady, voice quiet but sharp.
"This lake isn't worth it."
She gestured with her blade toward the river below the bridge — the water dark and writhing.
Below, faint shadows moved within the depths, corrupted creatures shifting restlessly.
"The Veil here is spoiled," Sinatara continued. "Tainted by centuries of decay Veil."
She lowered her sword, her voice dipping to a soft whisper.
"Anyone who falls into that water won't survive. The corruption seeps into your blood… your mind."
Her eyes met Nessy's, cold but strangely sympathetic.
"So why even fight for it? For a prize that will only destroy you?"
The mist stilled between them, carrying her words like poison through silence.
Nessy's glow dimmed slightly, her stance loosening as doubt crept in.
Her gaze fell to the dark lake below — the sight of its swirling, black-orange water made her throat tighten.
She took a slow breath, her voice low, uncertain.
"Then… why do you need it too?"
Sinatara paused — for the briefest moment, her calm faltered.
The mist wavered, catching faint reflections of her eyes — cold steel flickering with something buried deep.
"Because," she said quietly, eyes narrowing again, "some of us don't have the luxury of choice."
The words hung heavy in the air, drifting like ash.
Nessy's expression hardened again, her fists flaring brighter — doubt melting into quiet resolve.
"Then maybe I'll fight for the ones who do."
Sinatara lifted her katana, slow and deliberate, the blade catching the pale mist like frozen fire. Every movement screamed control, lethal precision.
Her voice cut the silence, low, sharp, and merciless.
"I don't care about your naive intentions."
She stepped closer, eyes alight with fire and shadow.
"Shut up. Listen. I will say this once. Hear it… and understand."
The blade hovered above the bridge, tip slicing the mist, swirling like smoke around her, cold as death itself.
"All of us here… we have suffered under the same nightmare."
Her gaze swept the warriors — piercing, unyielding, full of storm.
"We are ruled by the old ways… by their so-called champions. By the law of the strongest."
Her voice broke for a moment, raw and trembling with memory.
"My mother… she was beaten. Mocked. Raped. Humiliated… all because the men of our tribe could take whatever they desired, and tradition told them they were untouchable. My father… I barely knew him. Men like him were distant, fleeting, shadows of responsibility."
Her lips pressed thin, eyes blackened with grief.
"She died for me. Sacrificed herself on a mission to the Lake of Forgotten Dreams, alone… and never returned. All I have left… is her blood-soaked memory, her tattered clothes, my father's name… and a secret I carry in silence: a younger brother."
Her hands clenched, knuckles white around the katana.
"I survived. I endured. I learned. And now…" Her voice rose, sharp as a blade, trembling with restrained fury. "…I will remake this world."
Sinatara's gaze hardened, burning with fire, love, and hatred fused.
"I will unite all tribes. I will usher a new age for the Wildzone. Nothing… nothing will stand in my way. I'll protect him… Rynel. My brother. Even if he does not know this and is unconscious now. Even if the world would destroy him without mercy."
A ripple of laughter spread across the bridge — mocking, sharp, cruel.
Tarvan chuckled, bitter and hollow. Nessy tried to smirk, but tension cut through it like steel.
Sinatara's comrades forced tense grins.
Sinatara's chest heaved. Rage. Grief. Love. Purpose. Every emotion fused into a storm coiling beneath her skin.
Then, she moved — lightning, shadow, and steel in perfect harmony.
Her katana tore through the mist in a scream of motion, slicing the air like a thunderbolt.
The wind shrieked. Mist scattered violently.
Nessy's eyes flared; reflexes screamed. She twisted aside.
The blade missed by inches — but the air it cut felt like death itself, heavy with Sinatara's fury.
Sinatara's glare burned through mist, through bone, through fear.
Every movement radiated promise: death for those who deserved it.
Vengeance for the fallen, and the storm of a new age she would bring.
And beneath it all… a whisper of tenderness, a shadow of love for Rynel.
The brother she would protect with her blood, her fury, and every breath.
Nessy's eyes remained fixed, unwavering, locked onto Sinatara.
The glow of Auroracrusher pulsed softly across her arms, reflecting her steady calm.
The wind stirred the mist, but she didn't flinch, didn't move — she simply stared.
Sinatara's lips curved faintly, her tone dry, almost teasing.
"Sorry for laughing, girl."
She shifted her katana lightly, eyes sharp, gaze piercing.
"It's just… what you want… seems impossible."
Nessy's jaw tightened, voice low but firm, eyes unblinking.
"Impossible?" she said softly, almost a whisper.
"You need incomprehensible strength… yes. But strength alone isn't enough."
Her fists flared faintly orange, the glow reflecting determination.
"You'll need comrades, a plan… foresight, patience, more things than you can count."
Sinatara's expression flickered — curiosity, tension, something unreadable beneath the storm in her eyes.
"And if you grow too strong," Nessy continued, voice calm but resolute, "they will try to assassinate you. Those who fear power never hesitate."
Sinatara's lips pressed thin, and the katana in her hands wavered just slightly in the mist.
"But…" Nessy's tone softened, warmth threading through the edge of her words, quiet and steady.
"You don't have to be afraid."
Her eyes met Sinatara's, glowing faintly gold in the misty light.
"I'll be watching. Secretly. Supporting you… all through it."
The bridge was silent, mist swirling between them, carrying the weight of those words.
Sinatara's stance shifted subtly, katana lowering fractionally, the storm within her eyes momentarily softened.
mist swirled violently as Sinatara advanced, katana slicing through the fog with lethal precision.
Nessy's gauntlets glowed bright yellow-orange, Auroracrusher pulsing with her focus.
Every step she took was measured, every movement a whisper of Veil energy dancing through her limbs.
Sinatara's eyes narrowed, calm and collected, her body coiled like a spring ready to snap.
With a sudden burst, she lunged forward, katana swinging in a sharp, devastating arc.
The blade cut through the air, humming like a storm unleashed, aiming straight for Nessy's midsection.
Nessy's eyes widened as the katana connected, a burning pain exploding through her stomach.
She stumbled, vision blurring, and her knees threatened to buckle beneath her.
The bridge groaned beneath the force, mist curling around them like smoke from a fire.
But as she teetered on the edge of collapse, something instinctive surged from deep within her.
Her body moved before her mind could catch up, fueled by pain, adrenaline, and the Veil pulsing through Auroracrusher.
Her fist shot out, glowing with molten yellow-orange light, straight toward Sinatara's jaw.
The impact was explosive — thunder ripped through the mist as Sinatara's body crumpled, katana slipping from her hands.
Nessy's breath came in ragged gasps, body trembling, but she stood — fists still glowing, eyes sharp.
Sinatara lay unconscious on the bridge, her katana clattering softly against the wooden planks.
The mist settled slowly around them, carrying the heavy scent of dust, blood, and Veil energy.
Tarvan's eyes narrowed, sweeping over the bridge.
He let out a slow, measured breath, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly.
"…The match," he said, voice low but commanding, "…is a draw."
His gaze flicked toward Sinatara, still lying unconscious, and for a brief moment, concern flickered across his sharp features.
The mist seemed to hush around them, waiting, the weight of the duel lingering in the air.
Tarvan's voice rang out again, firmer this time, cutting through the fog.
"The last match… is next."
He turned to Doran and Casco, eyes sharp, commanding respect and attention alike.
"You — Doran — face my finest warrior Casco."
The bridge trembled faintly under the anticipation, mist curling and twisting as the final duel approached.