The arena trembled as Nara's fire and Isolde's frost continued to battle for dominance. The contrast between them had never been more evident—the relentless roar of flames clashing with the eerie whisper of ice. The battlefield was a chaotic storm of heat and frost, and yet, neither warrior had yielded.
Nara's muscles burned with exertion, her body feeling the effects of prolonged combat, yet a savage grin stretched across her face. This was the kind of fight she had been craving—one where she could push herself beyond her limits. She refused to fall first.
Isolde, ever calm, took a measured breath as frost gathered along the length of her greatsword, thickening the already glacial steel. Her stance remained unshaken, her icy blue eyes locked onto Nara with quiet calculation.
Then, in a moment of silence before the next clash, something changed.
A red aura began to pulse around Nara's body. It was subtle at first, a faint shimmer around her skin, but then it grew stronger, flickering like embers catching the wind. Her breathing grew heavier, her pupils narrowing into slits, her body tensing unnaturally as if preparing for something far greater.
The crowd murmured in anticipation. Something was awakening.
Jhaeros, watching from the stands, narrowed his eyes.
"…This might be bad," he muttered.
Kalem, sitting beside him, scratched his chin, studying Nara's sudden transformation. "Huh. Interesting."
Nara exhaled sharply, and the red aura exploded outward.
The heat in the arena skyrocketed. Flames that had once been controlled became untamed, spiraling around her like a living inferno. The stone floor beneath her feet blackened and cracked, and the sheer force of her presence sent tremors through the battlefield.
The flames no longer obeyed the laws of magic—they were fueled by something deeper.
Pure, unrelenting rage.
Nara had entered a state beyond normal combat, her mind now ruled by instinct and fury. Her muscles bulged with newfound strength, her movements no longer simply fast—but monstrous.
She charged forward with explosive speed, closing the distance between herself and Isolde in the blink of an eye. Her fist swung out like a war hammer, flames spiraling around it in violent, uncontrollable arcs.
BOOM!
Isolde barely had time to react. She managed to raise her greatsword, blocking the strike just in time, but the sheer force of the impact sent her skidding backward, her feet carving lines in the ice-coated ground.
The crowd erupted into cheers and gasps.
Nara didn't give her a moment to recover. She was already moving again.
Like a force of nature, she launched a relentless assault—a whirlwind of fire, fists, and raw power. Each strike came faster than the last, each blow capable of shattering stone.
Isolde gritted her teeth. She could feel the frost magic around her sword reacting to Nara's berserk state. Her body felt the crushing weight of the heat, her ice barely holding up against the inferno. If she continued like this, she would be overwhelmed.
It was time to stop holding back.
She took a deep breath, her frost magic surging to its absolute limit.
Then, for the first time, Isolde's greatsword shifted.
A deep resonance echoed through the arena, a sound akin to ice cracking beneath immense pressure. The air around her sword grew thicker, heavier—and then, before the spectators' very eyes, the glacial steel blade split apart.
Instead of one greatsword, there were now two swords, both formed of pure, condensed ice, humming with ancient, frost-infused energy.
But that wasn't the true reveal.
Inside the hollowed hilt of the greatsword, now exposed, a brilliant blue crystal pulsed.
The air in the arena dropped instantly, frost spiraling around Isolde as her full power manifested in a way no one had ever seen before.
This was her true weapon—The Frost Reaper's Final Form.
Jhaeros muttered under his breath, "She was hiding something like that?"
Kalem let out a low whistle. "That's… cold."
Isolde's stance changed. She was no longer a warrior relying solely on raw power—she had become a duelist of ice, wielding twin swords that moved like flowing water, each strike leaving a trail of frost in the air.
Nara, still lost in her rage-fueled state, roared and lunged forward, fists ablaze.
Isolde met her charge head-on.
The first clash of their newfound powers sent a shockwave throughout the arena, the impact splitting the ground beneath them.
Nara's flames howled, her fists now moving in unpredictable patterns, seeking to crush and incinerate. But Isolde's movements were sharper, faster, more precise, her twin blades weaving through the air like a cold, merciless wind.
They exchanged strike after strike, neither willing to relent, neither backing down.
The crowd was on the edge of their seats. The fight had just reached an entirely new level.
And the real battle…
Had only just begun.