The Palace of Vrasnia was a cathedral of shadow, its black-marble halls carved with silver veins that pulsed faintly with arcane light. The world outside was drowned in endless night, lit only by the massive purple moon that hung like a watchful, malignant god over the land. Its glow didn't comfort—it pressed down, heavy, feeding the heat that burned in every heartbeat.
Kazimir stood at the window, the strands of blue at the ends of his black hair catching the faint light. Far beyond the city, a violent green flare split the horizon, burning through the purple sky like an open wound.
Riah's voice was tight. "That… that's not natural."
Vanessa's boots clicked over the polished obsidian. "What's going on out there?"
Kazimir turned, eyes narrowing. "Now we know where they are."
"Then I'll deal with it."
He studied her for a moment, then nodded once. "…Go."
Vanessa vanished into the corridor, her coat snapping behind her like a banner. The palace gates opened, and moments later a sleek, rune-powered transport cut into the night, low and silent as it streaked toward the source of the flare.
Riah kept her gaze on Kazimir. "That looked like Gendai."
"I thought the same." His voice lowered into something cold. "And with her… that kind of power doesn't stay in check. It kills."
The Open Field
Far from the city walls, the barren expanse lay exposed under the purple moon. The cracked earth reflected the cold light, every shadow sharp enough to cut.
Gendai's green aura bled into that alien glow, painting her in both colors like a warrior forged from poison. Her eyes burned, locked onto Lihanna with a focus that promised pain, not sport.
Tyrone stepped forward, scythe ready.
"Step back," Lihanna said, voice steady but low, like a growl. "If she's crossed this line, I'll be the one to deal with her."
The moment broke—Gendai moved first. Her twin blades came down with the sound of tearing air. The first clash cracked the ground beneath them. Lihanna slid the nodachi into the strike, twisting with brutal precision before slamming her knee into Gendai's ribs. She spun, heel smashing into Gendai's jaw hard enough to snap her head to the side.
It didn't slow her. Gendai spat blood, lips curling into a grin that looked almost wrong. She surged forward, blades a blur. The fight devolved into a storm—slashes angled to sever tendons, thrusts meant to pierce lungs.
The clang of steel rang out over the dead plain until Gendai shifted her stance. Her foot drove into the ground with a crack like a cannon. The earth split, jagged stone tearing upward and curling around Lihanna. The walls slammed shut, crushing pressure forcing the air from her lungs fracturing her ribs.
Tyrone lunged, but ice swallowed his leg. "Neve! Let me go!"
"Watch," Neve said without looking at him.
"This isn't a spar—it's a killing!" Tyrone roared, straining against the frost.
Inside the stone prison, Lihanna's scream tore across the battlefield. The grinding of rock grew louder as Gendai tightened the trap, her arms trembling with effort and malice.
The Unleashing
Rage swallowed the pain. You're really trying to kill me over this? Fine.
Her eyes flared crimson, threaded with violet fire. Water no longer flowed blue—it boiled black and red, spitting sparks as if it hated the air. The prison shattered outward in an explosion of rock shards that sliced the ground around them.
Her nodachi was no longer a weapon of steel—it was a bleeding wound in the world, swallowing the moonlight.
Above, Gendai's hand rose, summoning a meteor the size of a fortress. The sky trembled with its weight.
Gasps, curses—but no one moved when three spectral swords materialized around Lihanna: red, blue, black. They spun, merging into her nodachi until the air rippled with a crimson tide.
"You think rage makes you strong?" Lihanna's voice cut through the roar. "It only makes you blind."
The Hums of the Abyss tore through the meteor in a single, soundless instant. The explosion of shattered stone rained like fire, hissing against the cold ground. Gendai's blades cracked, then split.
The Brawl
What came next wasn't swordsmanship—it was survival.
Gendai slammed her fist into Lihanna's face, the crunch of cartilage sharp in the air. Blood streamed down her jaw. Lihanna answered with a savage elbow that split Gendai's cheek.
A knee to the stomach—an uppercut to the chin—Lihanna stumbled back only to spring forward, headbutting Gendai so hard the snap of bone echoed. Blood misted in the moonlight.
They traded blows until neither could tell whose blood stained their hands. Bruises swelled, ribs cracked, fingers bent at angles that wouldn't heal clean.
Gendai caught Lihanna around the waist, slamming her into the ground hard enough to leave a crater. Lihanna's legs coiled and kicked, sending Gendai skidding back before she charged again, teeth bared, spitting blood.
When their fists finally collided in one last, murderous swing—Vanessa was suddenly there. Her hands caught their wrists mid-strike, the ground trembling from the force she absorbed without flinching.
"…Enough."
The word didn't just stop them—it cut the night in half.