The ice groaned beneath Reika's feet as she staggered back, her breath shallow and ragged. Blood dripped from her wounded hand, staining the frozen ground like crimson ink on a blank canvas. The cold gnawed at her bones, but she didn't flinch. She couldn't afford to.
Before her, the male Shikiban loomed—tall, unyielding, his presence a force of nature. His silver hair was a cascade of frost, his piercing eyes devoid of warmth, reflecting nothing but malice. He tilted his head, amused by her resilience.
"You should have run when you had the chance,"he murmured, his voice a sharp whisper against the howling wind. "But you humans… you never learn."
Reika tightened her grip on her blade despite the pain, her knuckles white. Her mind screamed at her to move, to act, but for the first time in her life, fear had rooted itself in her chest, squeezing her lungs like an unseen vice. She had fought countless battles, stared death in the face more times than she could count, yet this was different.
This enemy wasn't just strong. He was something else—something unnatural. Something she didn't understand.
But she had no time for hesitation.
The Shikiban moved.
In a heartbeat, he was upon her. A blur of motion, faster than the eye could follow. Instinct alone saved her as she twisted, dodging the razor-sharp blade of ice that slashed through the air where her neck had been a moment ago. The force of the attack sent a violent gust rippling past her, cutting through the silence like a scream.
He was fast—too fast.
Her body responded before her mind could catch up, shifting into a defensive stance. She adjusted her grip, loosening it slightly to increase reaction speed. Don't chase his movements. Predict them.
She barely managed to parry his next strike, the impact sending tremors up her arm. Pain flared, but she pushed it down. He was testing her reactions, forcing her into a pattern. She couldn't let him dictate the rhythm.
Reika retaliated. A feint to his left, a pivot to the right—she struck low, aiming for his knee. He stepped back, but she followed through, twisting into a spinning kick that barely missed his ribs. He countered with a swipe of ice, forcing her to throw herself backward to avoid being skewered.
He was toying with her.
Reika's lungs burned, her body screaming at her to stop. Her wounds throbbed, cold seeping into her bones. Every move felt heavier, but she couldn't stop now. The fear clawed at her mind, whispering that she wouldn't last, that this was the end.
But she couldn't afford to listen.
She gritted her teeth and launched forward again, faster this time. If she couldn't match his speed, she'd disrupt it. She changed her tempo, breaking her own patterns.
Her blade clashed against his, the force carving deep fissures into the ice beneath them. He struck high—she ducked low, sliding across the frozen ground to slice at his calf. He leapt, but not in time to avoid the edge of her blade scraping against his skin.
A single drop of blood hit the ice.
His smirk vanished.
A slow, eerie smile replaced it—one laced with something dark, something sinister.
"Good,"he whispered, licking the blood from his lip. "I was hoping you'd last a little longer."
Without warning, he lunged, his form melting into the storm. Ice shards exploded from the ground, jagged spikes erupting in her path, forcing her to weave through a deadly maze. One sliced across her thigh, another grazed her ribs, but she didn't stop. She couldn't.
She met him head-on.
Their blades clashed—steel against ice, light against dark. The force of each blow sent shockwaves through the air, carving deep scars into the battlefield. He struck with lethal precision; she countered with unwavering defiance. Sparks ignited in the storm, a violent dance of survival.
Yet deep down, Reika knew the truth.
She was barely keeping up.
Her body was slowing. Her wounds bled freely, staining her once-pristine uniform. The cold gnawed at her fingers, her muscles screamed for rest, but she pushed on. Because she had no other choice.
Because behind her, beyond this frozen battlefield, her comrades were fighting their own battles.
Because she couldn't afford to lose.
The Shikiban noticed the shift in her stance, the raw fire burning in her eyes. He chuckled, entertained by her foolishness.
"You still believe you have a chance?"he mused, stepping closer. "You're on the brink of collapse. One more strike, and you'll be nothing more than a corpse on this ice."
Reika didn't reply. She simply lifted her sword, planting her feet firmly against the frozen ground.
A stance of defiance.
The Shikiban's smirk widened. "Then let's end this."
He raised his hand. The ice cracked beneath him, raw energy surging through the air, forming into a towering spear of solid frost. The temperature plummeted. The very atmosphere seemed to shatter under the weight of his attack.
Reika tightened her grip, heart pounding. This was it. The final moment.
She had one chance.
One shot at survival.
The spear launched forward, a blinding force of destruction.
Reika exhaled and shifted her weight, her fingers adjusting ever so slightly on the hilt of her blade. Time slowed. She could see the arc of its trajectory, the milliseconds between death and survival. Her eyes narrowed, mind calculating the only possible counter.
And then—she moved.
A flash of steel. A burst of shattered frost. A sudden, violent collision.
And the storm swallowed them both.