The battlefield had become a frozen labyrinth, crystalline spikes of ice towering like jagged huts, distorting vision and turning the open arena into a perilous maze.
Kalem landed on one of the higher ice formations, his breath visible in the frigid air. His right shoulder was bare, the armor that once protected it now shattered—a casualty of Isolde's relentless frost. His fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword, feeling the subtle hum of the resonance crystal.
Below, Isolde's glacial greatsword pulsed with power. Its core, now fully revealed, radiated an ethereal glow, the frost magic inside reaching a critical point.
She exhaled sharply, scanning the battlefield, her breath curling into mist. Kalem had disappeared into the ice structures, moving unseen.
Her grip tightened.
Where is he?
Then—
A sharp sting bloomed across her stomach.
Her eyes widened.
A thin line of red appeared across her tunic, a shallow but clean cut.
Her mind reeled. What?
She hadn't seen him. He hadn't even been close.
A voice echoed from somewhere in the ice.
"Vibrations travel through air, you know."
Her heart skipped.
Kalem wasn't attacking her directly.
He was cutting through the air itself.
She barely had time to react before—
Another slash.
This time, she saw it—or rather, she felt it. A faint ripple in the air, like an invisible pressure wave, before another gash formed along her upper arm.
She leaped back, twisting mid-air, forming a barrier of frost between them.
But the moment her feet touched the ground—
A third cut.
This one deeper.
She winced, retreating further into the ice, her free hand pressing against the wound on her shoulder. The cuts weren't deep enough to cripple her, but the sheer precision was unnerving.
She clenched her teeth. So this is the power of his sword…
Kalem emerged from the ice, stepping into view.
He stood in a relaxed stance, his sword still sheathed.
That's when Isolde noticed.
He wasn't swinging recklessly.
He was measuring each strike.
Testing. Calibrating.
Her wounds weren't from brute force. They were tests.
And that realization made her shiver more than the cold.
Kalem tilted his head. "I was curious," he admitted, spinning his sword in one hand. "How much resistance frost magic has to vibrations. Turns out, not much."
Isolde's eyes flicked toward her greatsword, still floating beside her.
It was shaking.
Not from her power—but from his.
The moment Kalem's sword had resonated through the battlefield, the vibrations had reached her weapon too.
Her grip tightened.
He's trying to disrupt my sword's core.
She couldn't let that happen.
She inhaled, steeling herself.
Then—she unleashed everything.
A deafening crack split through the air.
The arena exploded into a storm of frost.
Ice spears shot outward from the battlefield, walls of glacial force expanding in an instant, engulfing Kalem in a frozen hurricane. The temperature plummeted, a deep, bone-chilling cold that froze even the moisture in the air into shards of crystal.
For a moment—all was silent.
Then—
A pulse.
A single, rhythmic vibration.
Kalem's blade hummed.
A slash cut through the storm, parting the ice like a knife through silk. The frozen hurricane collapsed in on itself, dispersed mid-air.
Isolde barely had time to react before Kalem closed the distance.
For the first time in their match—he was actually attacking up close.
Her instincts screamed.
She raised her greatsword just in time.
CLANG!
The impact sent a shockwave through the entire arena.
The ice beneath them fractured, breaking into uneven slabs.
Isolde staggered from the sheer force.
Kalem pivoted, spinning his curved blade in a precise arc. His movement was smooth, effortless—as if he was already seeing five moves ahead.
She didn't have time to counter before—
A slash to the ribs.
She gasped as pain flared across her side.
She tried to back away—
Another cut.
This time to her leg.
Her breath came fast, visible against the cold. He's getting faster.
And yet—his expression never changed.
Kalem remained calm. Calculated.
Like this wasn't a fight.
Like this was a lesson.
Isolde grit her teeth.
She had one last move.
Her greatsword trembled, then burst into a final, blinding light.
The core at its center fully ignited—unleashing every ounce of frost magic she had left.
For a split second, Kalem's face flickered with interest.
"Let's see," he murmured. "Which breaks first?"
The sword… or the ice?