Hana and I arrived at a strange place.
The air greeted us with a cutting cold, as if every gust of wind carried tiny invisible blades. Everything around us was covered in snow — a white, silent mantle that seemed to devour the world's colors. The sky was gray, not with storm clouds, but with the weight of an eternal winter that pressed down upon the earth and condemned it to silence. It was the heart of winter, though we knew it should have been spring.
The branches of the trees creaked under the weight of frost. Each trunk looked carved from ice, and the entire forest held the solemnity of a forgotten graveyard. There were no birds, no footprints, no signs of life. Only us — two small figures walking through that frozen ocean.
In the distance, a mountain rose high, and at its peak stood a massive tree, towering like a lonely beacon. It wasn't an ordinary tree: its dark trunk pierced the sky, and its leafless branches reached out like the arms of a giant stretching toward nothingness. Its presence was overwhelming — the kind of stillness that had witnessed centuries of tragedy. It stood as a sentinel over the frozen world.
We decided to move toward it.
Our steps sank into the snow with a rhythmic crunch that blended with the murmuring wind. With every meter, the cold grew thicker, clinging to our skin, trying to invade our bones. But we pressed on, guided by instinct — by the sense that this place was no coincidence, that the mountain and the tree hid what we were meant to face.
When we arrived, we saw a woman resting against the tree's trunk.
Her figure stood out sharply against the whiteness of the snow. Her long black hair spilled over her shoulders like a dark river. Her clothes were simple, worn by time, but her posture carried something unsettling — a calm that felt too deliberate. She looked at us with eyes that glowed like embers in the cold and then began to laugh uncontrollably.
> "Don't tell me you two are my opponents? Hahahahaha!"
Her laughter shattered the forest's silence like a strange thunderclap.
Hana gripped her katana, stepping forward with disdain. Her breath rose in pale clouds in the icy air.
> "And you're alone… I don't think you can handle the two of us,"
she said with scorn, spitting on the ground.
The woman tilted her head, as if she had heard a bad joke.
> "I may be alone," she said, smiling faintly, "but I'm stronger than both of you together."
Her confidence wasn't arrogance — it was conviction. And that made her dangerous.
Hana didn't flinch. Her gaze was a blade.
> "I don't think so. We'll defeat you and move on. You'll die here, next to that tree."
The woman's smile widened, as though the threat delighted her.
> "As you wish. If you win, just keep going. Beyond this winter forest lies a vast plain. There, you'll find who you're looking for…"
Her tone darkened briefly before twisting back into mockery.
"But you won't get that far. None of you will. You're weak."
Hana snorted.
> "I hate talking to my enemies. Let's end this already."
And without another word, the battle began.
The crunch of snow was the prelude to the clash. Hana was the first to strike, charging forward like lightning. Her blade sliced the air with a deadly whistle. But the woman dodged with inhuman grace — her body shifting just enough for the katana to miss. It was so fast that even the falling snow seemed to pause around her.
In a counterattack as swift as death, she drew her sword — a dark blade scarred by countless battles — and swung it toward Hana's neck.
For a heartbeat, the world stood still.
But Hana ducked in time — faster than my eyes could follow.
The blade sliced off a strand of her hair, which floated down like a black feather on the snow.
> "You're fast," the woman admitted, a flicker of interest lighting her eyes.
"For a moment, I thought your head would roll on the snow. It seems we share the same speed."
Hana raised her katana, breathing steadily. Her lips curved into a dangerous smile.
> "Maybe. But the warm-up's over. Now I'm going all out. Get ready."
The woman tilted her head slightly, still smiling.
> "I'm always ready."
And then — chaos erupted.
Their swords clashed with a violence that shook the air. The steel screamed with every blow, echoing through the forest like the ghosts of ancient wars. Their footsteps drew invisible patterns across the snow — footprints, spins, leaps, retreats.
For a moment, they froze — eyes locked, breaths colliding, two storms staring each other down. Time itself seemed to wait for the next move.
Then both leapt back.
I couldn't stand by any longer.
My heart pounded, hot with fury and the instinct to protect. I drew my katana and charged. The steel caught the pale light, aimed straight for her chest.
But the woman caught my arm with inhuman strength before I could strike.
Her grip was like burning iron. My bones screamed under the pressure.
With a brutal twist, she flung me through the air.
My body flew like a broken doll. The white sky and snowy ground blurred together until I crashed hard into the ice. The impact stole my breath; pain pulsed through my back like a hammer.
Hana didn't hesitate — she attacked again.
Strike after strike, her katana danced with fury — a whirlwind of steel, desperate to pierce the enemy's defense. But the woman dodged everything, as if she knew each movement before it came — as if she could read the future written in the blade's gleam.
Until finally, Hana's katana grazed her right cheek.
A shallow cut, but enough to let a drop of blood stain the snow.
> "Tsk…" she hissed, licking the blood away.
Her eyes hardened. Something shifted inside her.
Her speed doubled.
The air screamed with her movements. Even the snow seemed to move aside for her.
But Hana didn't back down. She matched her rhythm, her feet gliding across the snow, her blade an extension of her soul. It was like watching two bolts of lightning collide in a storm.
Their swords clashed like thunder, grinding against each other in sparks of raw power.
Then — in one fierce exchange — the woman's sword snapped in half.
A dry crack. The blade fell uselessly into the snow.
A decisive moment.
Hana didn't waste it — she slashed at her opponent's hip.
The woman raised her left arm to block…
And lost it to the strike.
Her scream tore through the frozen air — a roar of rage and agony. Blood splattered across the snow, red against white.
> "Y-you know…" she gasped, staggering, "I didn't think my sword would fail me… But losing my arm doesn't mean… I've lost…"
Her gaze went wild. That twisted smile returned — deranged, radiant.
> "Special ability — Natural Control!"
Magic circles flared around her body, inscribing ancient runes in the air. The wind howled, snow spiraling upward. Then the circles vanished — but her aura exploded in strength.
She wasn't the same anymore.
The air itself trembled beneath her will.
With a shout, she unleashed her spell.
Thick black roots burst from the ground, shattering the snow like monstrous serpents. Within seconds, they coiled around Hana, lifting her into the air like a trapped puppet.
> "Hana!" I screamed.
She struggled, twisting her body, but the roots held tight. The pressure was brutal. Her katana slipped from her hand, falling uselessly into the snow.
The woman, now one-armed, bent to pick up Hana's fallen weapon. She gripped it firmly, aiming straight at my sister's heart.
It all happened in seconds.
I ran. I didn't think. I just moved.
I threw myself between them — and I was the one who took the fatal strike.
The blade pierced my chest.
A burning agony tore through me, blood spilling onto the white snow.
With my last strength, I swung once — cutting through one of the roots holding Hana. I saw her fall free to the ground… before I collapsed beside her.
The snowy sky spun above me. The cold no longer hurt.
I only felt… peace.