The bridge was older than the war.
Carved from black stone and reinforced with massive iron arches, it spanned a deep ravine where a violent river roared far below. Trade routes, supply lines, troop movements. Whoever controlled this bridge controlled the entire eastern approach.
And Ankalyon wanted it.
Ken stood near the edge, staring down into the mist as wind tugged at his cloak. The vibration inside him responded to the constant roar of the water, stirring faintly, curious.
He ignored it.
Five of them stood on the Garnafall side of the bridge.
Five was all they were sending.
Lyra crouched near the stone railing, adjusting the straps on her gauntlets. Her movements were precise, economical. She didn't look nervous.
None of them did.
A massive man stood at the center of the formation, resting a tower shield against the ground like it weighed nothing. His armor was thick, layered, etched with deep grooves that glowed faintly.
Bran Korrin.
The wall.
His power wasn't flashy. It was absolute. Anything he planted himself against stopped. Blades, spells, momentum itself bent around him.
To Ken's left, a lean figure rolled his shoulders, fingers twitching constantly as faint sparks jumped between them.
Ishren Vale.
Lightning user. Fast. Unstable. Deadly at range and terrifying up close.
Behind them, leaning casually against a broken statue fragment, stood a woman with silver eyes and ash-gray hair. Dark markings crawled slowly across her skin, shifting with each breath.
Maelis Thorn.
She shaped shadows. Not illusions. Real, physical darkness that swallowed sound and light alike.
And then there was Ken.
New. Untested. Still learning how not to tear himself apart.
Lyra finally stood and looked at him.
"You good?" she asked.
Ken nodded.
"As I'll ever be."
She smiled slightly.
"That's enough."
A horn sounded from the far side of the bridge.
Low. Heavy.
The air changed.
Figures emerged from the mist.
Ankalyon champions.
Three of them walked forward openly.
The first wore crimson armor streaked with gold, his blade resting casually over his shoulder. Heat rippled around him with every step.
Varkhrel the Ashbound.
Fire shaper. Veteran champion. Responsible for the fall of two border cities.
Beside him walked a woman clad in pale stone armor, her movements slow, deliberate. The ground cracked faintly beneath her feet.
Seris of the Deep Rock.
Earthbinder. Defensive specialist. Almost impossible to break.
The third didn't walk.
He hovered just above the bridge, cloak fluttering as invisible currents bent around him.
Kael of the Howling Sky.
Wind manipulator. Scout killer. Known for tearing formations apart before they could react.
Behind them, more figures waited in the fog.
Reserves.
Lyra stepped forward.
"That's our welcome," she said calmly. "No tricks yet."
Bran slammed his shield into the ground.
The stone bridge shook.
"They cross," he said, "they stop here."
Ishren grinned, electricity crackling along his arms.
"Finally."
Ken's heart rate picked up.
The vibration stirred.
Not yet.
Varkhrel raised his sword and flames roared to life along its edge.
"Garnafall," he called. "Step aside. This bridge belongs to Ankalyon now."
Lyra drew her blade.
"No," she said. "It doesn't."
The air exploded.
Kael struck first.
A violent gust tore across the bridge, sharp enough to slice stone. Bran planted himself and raised his shield.
The wind hit.
And stopped.
The shockwave rippled outward, but the shield held. Cracks spread beneath Bran's boots as he absorbed the force.
Maelis moved.
Shadows surged forward, swallowing the space around Seris. Stone met darkness. The bridge groaned.
Ishren vanished in a flash of lightning, reappearing near Varkhrel and unleashing a concentrated strike. Fire and electricity collided, detonating in a blinding burst.
Ken moved instinctively.
Then stopped.
Control.
He felt it again. The vibration responding to every clash, every impact. The bridge was alive with sound.
Too alive.
Kael twisted midair and hurled compressed air blades toward Ken.
Ken raised his sword.
Just a little.
The vibration flowed into the blade, clean and precise.
He cut.
The air blades shattered into harmless gusts.
Ken exhaled sharply.
That worked.
Kael's eyes narrowed.
"Oh," he said. "You're interesting."
He dove.
Ken stepped forward instead of back.
This time, he let it move.
Not all of it.
Just enough.
The blade hummed.
The sound cut through the chaos like a signal.
The bridge rang.
And the battle truly began.
Kael smiled.
The wind twisted around him, lifting him higher above the bridge as invisible currents spiraled at his back. His eyes stayed locked on Ken, sharp and amused.
"Not bad," Kael said. "Most of them panic when they realize I'm already behind them."
The air snapped.
Kael vanished.
Ken felt it instantly.
Not sight. Not sound.
Pressure.
The vibration inside his chest surged in warning.
Ken turned and raised his sword just as Kael reappeared above him, leg extended, compressed wind screaming around his strike.
Ken blocked.
The impact hurled him backward.
Stone shattered beneath his boots as he slid across the bridge, barely maintaining his footing. His arms burned from the force, the vibration screaming to be released.
Kael landed lightly several meters away.
"That restraint," Kael said, rolling his neck. "It's cute. But it won't save you."
He lifted one hand.
The wind screamed.
Dozens of razor-thin air blades tore forward, ripping chunks from the bridge as they closed in on Ken from every angle.
Ken inhaled sharply.
Enough.
He let the vibration flow.
Not wildly.
Not fully.
Just enough to answer the threat.
Ken swung.
The blade hummed, slicing through the storm of air. Each cut shattered another blade, the vibration tearing the compressed wind apart like glass.
Kael's smile vanished.
Ken didn't stop.
He stepped forward, each movement precise, grounded. The vibration followed his sword, reinforcing the edge without flooding his body.
Kael shot upward again, twisting midair and sending a crushing downward current aimed to pin Ken in place.
Ken planted his foot.
The bridge rang.
The vibration spread outward in a tight radius, disrupting the airflow around him. The pressure collapsed, forcing Kael back into visibility.
Kael landed harder this time.
His expression had changed.
"You're not just reacting," he said slowly. "You're cutting the space my wind moves through."
Ken tightened his grip.
"I told you," he replied quietly. "I'm learning."
Kael laughed.
Then vanished again.
This time, the attack came from everywhere.
Above. Below. Behind.
The wind howled, forming a spiraling cage meant to tear Ken apart from all sides.
Ken closed his eyes.
Listened.
Not to the wind.
To the vibration.
The bridge.
The air.
His heartbeat.
Everything aligned.
Ken raised his sword.
The vibration condensed.
Compressed.
Sharpened.
The hum dropped to a deep, focused tone that made the stone beneath him tremble in a perfect circle.
Lyra felt it from across the bridge.
Her eyes widened.
"That idiot…"
Ken opened his eyes.
"Omicron Slash."
He moved once.
A single horizontal cut.
The vibration exploded outward in a razor-thin arc, slicing through the spiraling wind like it didn't exist. The shockwave split the air itself, leaving a visible distortion in its wake.
Kael's eyes widened.
The slash struck him midair.
Not with force.
With precision.
The vibration severed his control instantly. The wind collapsed around him, and Kael was thrown violently into the stone, skidding across the bridge and crashing to a stop at the far edge.
Silence followed.
Kael didn't move.
The mist around the bridge swirled wildly, then slowly settled.
Ken lowered his sword.
His arms shook violently now. Pain tore through his muscles as the vibration snapped back inward, screaming in protest.
He dropped to one knee.
Worth it.
Lyra appeared beside him in a blur of motion, placing herself between Ken and the fallen champion.
She glanced at Kael.
Unconscious. Alive.
Then she looked at Ken.
"You named it already?" she asked.
Ken let out a weak breath.
"Felt wrong not to."
She shook her head, a grin tugging at the corner of her mouth.
"You're insane."
She looked back toward the fog, where Ankalyon's remaining forces hesitated.
"But that," she added, "was loud enough."
Bran's shield slammed into the ground again.
The bridge shook.
Ankalyon pulled back.
Ken stayed where he was, breathing hard, the vibration finally quieting.
Omicron Slash.
The name settled into him.
This bridge would remember it.
And so would Ankalyon.