The storm roared louder.
Not as background.
Not as chaos.
But as a participant.
Lightning carved the sky in jagged streaks, striking the floating cliffs as if testing every movement below. The wind twisted violently, spiraling into currents that could tear apart an unprepared fighter in seconds.
And at the center of it all—
The relic pulsed.
Brighter.
Closer.
The Collision
The moment both sides reached the shifting cliff face—
Everything exploded into motion.
Stormveil moved first.
Lightning erupted from his body, not wild, not uncontrolled—but shaped. Directed. Every strike precise enough to clear pathways while forcing the enemy back.
"This is my domain!" he roared.
Bolts rained down at his command, splitting the battlefield into zones.
The Crimson descendant stepped forward through it.
Unaffected.
His blade glowed a deeper red now, pulsing in rhythm with the storm.
"You think lightning answers to you alone?" he sneered.
He raised his hand—
And lightning bent.
Not fully.
But enough.
Stormveil's eyes widened slightly.
Control vs Corruption
The clash between them shook the entire plateau.
Stormveil struck with raw, refined lightning.
The Crimson descendant countered with corrupted energy that twisted the natural flow of the storm.
Each collision sent shockwaves through the terrain.
Meanwhile—
Cael moved.
Absolute Threading in Motion
Crimson threads extended—not outward in brute force—
But across the battlefield.
Subtle.
Precise.
Invisible to the untrained eye.
Every falling rock—
Redirected.
Every unstable platform—
Anchored.
Every lightning strike—
Slightly altered.
Selina noticed it immediately.
"You're controlling the field…" she whispered.
Cael didn't respond.
He was calculating.
Kaelith's Shadow Play
Kaelith vanished.
Not retreating.
Integrating.
His shadows merged with the storm's darker currents, slipping between lightning flashes and enemy movements.
One Crimson soldier lunged forward—
Only for a shadow blade to emerge from beneath him.
Clean.
Silent.
Efficient.
Kaelith reappeared behind another.
"No wasted motion," he murmured.
Selina's Domain
Selina stepped forward, her frost aura expanding.
But this time—
It didn't fight the storm.
It adapted to it.
Ice formed along the lightning paths, stabilizing their energy into controlled arcs.
She wasn't freezing the battlefield.
She was harmonizing with it.
The result—
Controlled zones of movement where only their side could advance freely.
The Crimson forces began losing ground.
The Crimson Counter
The descendant clicked his tongue.
"Enough of this."
His aura flared violently.
Crimson energy surged outward, forcing the storm itself to distort.
The wind twisted unnaturally.
Lightning struck erratically.
The battlefield lost its balance.
Even Cael's threads trembled slightly.
Valerius narrowed his eyes.
"He's destabilizing the entire environment."
Kaelith landed beside Cael.
"He doesn't care if everything collapses—just as long as he gets the relic."
Cael Steps Forward
For the first time since the clash began—
Cael moved directly toward the center.
Not rushing.
Not forcing.
Walking.
Every step—
Perfectly placed.
Crimson threads adjusted the terrain beneath him instantly.
The storm parted slightly around him.
Not because he overpowered it.
Because he corrected it.
The Crimson descendant noticed.
And smiled.
"Finally."
The Duel Begins
They met at the edge of the final ascent.
Lightning crashed behind them.
Wind screamed around them.
The relic pulsed above.
The descendant attacked first.
Fast.
Direct.
Brutal.
His blade cut through the air with enough force to split the cliff behind Cael.
But—
It didn't land.
Crimson threads redirected the trajectory by a fraction.
Just enough.
Cael stepped aside.
Minimal movement.
Maximum efficiency.
Precision Over Power
The second strike came faster.
Stronger.
Enhanced by corrupted energy.
This time—
Cael didn't dodge.
He intercepted.
Not with force—
With redirection.
The blade slid past him, guided by threads that altered its path mid-swing.
The descendant's eyes narrowed.
"You're not fighting me."
Cael's voice was calm.
"I don't need to."
Escalation
The descendant roared, unleashing a barrage of attacks.
Rapid.
Unpredictable.
Fueled by both storm and corruption.
But every strike—
Missed.
Not by chance.
By calculation.
Cael's threads mapped every motion before it completed.
Each attack was already outdated before it landed.
Stormveil, watching from a distance, muttered,
"That's insane…"
Selina's gaze softened slightly.
"He's not reacting…"
"He's deciding."
The Turning Moment
The descendant overextended.
Just slightly.
But in a battle like this—
That was everything.
Cael stepped in.
Not fast.
Not dramatic.
Just… correct.
Crimson threads wrapped around the blade.
Not breaking it.
Not stopping it.
Stabilizing it.
Locking it in place.
The descendant tried to pull back—
But couldn't.
For the first time—
His movement was denied.
The Axis Grip
Cael raised his hand.
Crimson threads spread outward—
Not attacking the man.
Attacking his control.
The corrupted energy flickered.
Destabilized.
Disconnected.
"You rely on distortion," Cael said quietly.
"But distortion… can be corrected."
The threads tightened.
The storm calmed—just around them.
The battlefield held its breath.
Cliffhanger
Above them—
The relic flared violently.
Reacting.
Responding.
Choosing.
The ground beneath both fighters cracked open—
And a beam of light shot downward between them.
Forcing them apart.
The relic had begun its selection phase.