Scy's POV
The moment I stabilized—
everything became clearer.
Not quieter.
Not slower.
But clearer.
The pressure that had been building inside me didn't disappear. It didn't weaken. It simply… settled. Like a storm that chose not to break, but to wait.
And because of that—
I could finally see.
The commander stood in front of me, unmoving, his eyes fixed on mine.
"…So you chose control," he said.
"…Yeah."
"…Even now."
"…Especially now."
Silence.
Then—
he moved.
Faster than before.
CLANG!
Our blades collided again, but this time, the difference was immediate.
I didn't just block.
I understood.
His angle.
His timing.
His intent.
Instead of resisting—
I redirected.
CRACK!
The force shifted away from me, dispersing into the ground beneath my feet.
"…You're not just reacting anymore," he said.
"…I'm reading you."
For the first time—
he didn't respond immediately.
Because he felt it too.
The change.
We moved again.
Faster.
Closer.
Sharper.
CLANG!
CRASH!
SWOOSH!
But this time—
the exchanges were different.
Before, I was catching up.
Now—
I was keeping up.
Not perfectly.
Not completely.
But enough.
"…This is what happens when you stop chasing power," I muttered.
"…And start understanding it."
He stepped back slightly.
"…Explain."
For a brief moment—
we paused.
"…My power isn't just about creating blades," I said.
I raised my hand.
A single blade formed.
Not larger.
Not more complex.
But more stable.
"…It's about form."
The blade shifted slightly.
"…And control over that form."
I looked at him.
"…Before, I was forcing it."
"…Now…"
I tightened my grip.
"…I'm shaping it."
Silence.
Then—
"…I see."
His stance changed again.
Not in strength.
But in intent.
"…Then show me."
We moved.
This time—
no hesitation.
CLANG!
Our blades met again, but instead of clashing head-on, I shifted the angle, guiding his strike away while stepping into his space.
CRACK!
My counter landed.
Not deep.
But clean.
He stepped back.
"…You're controlling the exchange," he said.
"…And you're adjusting."
"…Of course."
We moved again.
The battlefield shook as our speed increased, but unlike before, the destruction wasn't random. It was controlled. Focused. Each movement carried purpose, not chaos.
This wasn't a fight of power anymore.
It was a fight of understanding.
CLANG!
CRASH!
SWOOSH!
Every strike refined.
Every step calculated.
"…You've crossed the first threshold," he said.
"…Not the last."
"…No."
Silence.
Then—
the air shifted again.
This time—
from him.
"…Then let's see how far you can go."
His presence intensified.
Not wildly.
But deeply.
The ground beneath him cracked slightly, not from force, but from pressure.
"…So this is your real level," I muttered.
"…Part of it."
Of course it was.
I smiled faintly.
"…Good."
Because that meant—
I didn't have to hold back as much.
I raised my hand again.
This time—
the blades that formed were different.
Not just sharper.
Not just denser.
But more… responsive.
Like they were extensions of me.
"…You've linked it," he said quietly.
"…Yeah."
Because now—
I wasn't controlling them from the outside.
I was controlling them—
as part of myself.
We moved again.
Faster than before.
CLANG!
CRASH!
This time—
the impact pushed both of us back.
Equal.
For the first time—
completely equal.
Silence followed.
The soldiers behind him didn't move.
Natalia didn't speak.
Because they all understood.
This fight—
had reached a different level.
"…You've reached it," he said.
"…Not completely."
"…But enough."
We stood there, facing each other.
Balanced.
Neither advancing.
Neither retreating.
And in that moment—
everything became clear.
This wasn't about winning anymore.
It was about—
how far I could go without losing myself.
I exhaled slowly.
"…Then let's end this."