The clash continued.
Rowan's ice sword shattered mid-exchange, splitting into countless thin sheets that scattered across the ground like broken glass. Without hesitation, he formed another blade, then another, each one breaking, reforming, and slashing again as he pressed Voli relentlessly.
Ice Sword versus Fire Sword.
"So this is why they call him the Fire God…" Rowan thought. His flames aren't just powerful, they're controlled. Solid. Refined.
Voli's footwork was sharp, his swordsmanship clean. Even without a sword blessing, his experience filled the gaps. His fire compensated for what he lacked, turning every strike into a lethal exchange.
But Rowan could see it clearly now.
If this were pure swordplay, no mana, no elements, I would end this in under a minute.
They exchanged dozens of blows in seconds.
Then Rowan leapt back, twisting his wrist upward. Mana surged.
A hundred ice fragments formed instantly, hovering in the air like suspended blades.
