The space between them seemed to freeze, though Tessai's Aspect did the actual work. Frost clung to the stone floor beneath his feet, thickening with every swing, and the air itself seemed to resist movement. Tessai, the largest Sleeper on the Forgotten Shore, moved with slow, deliberate precision. Every strike of his two-handed longsword was like a battering ram; every step sent tremors through the hall. His Frost Aspect coated him in dark blue ice, making him look less like a man and more like a living glacier, his eyes cold and unyielding.
Sasrir felt the chill immediately, the frost slowing his reflexes ever so slightly. Even with three Soul Cores, he had to be precise; one misstep could shatter bone or pierce flesh. He materialized fully, shadow scimitar in his right hand, halberd in his left, but the combined weight of the weapons felt heavier than usual in the icy air. The smaller Reaper's movements, though fluid, were now constrained—Tessai's swings weren't just forceful, they were designed to limit space, to pin, to freeze him in place.
The first unprepared clash was brutal. Tessai swung his massive sword in a horizontal arc, sending shards of ice flying as the halberd parried the blow. The impact rattled Sasrir's arms and forced him back several steps. A wave of frost radiated outward, chilling him to the bone and slowing the very ground he tried to pivot on. The Reaper struck back with his scimitar, stabbing low at Tessai's knees, but the giant shifted his weight and absorbed the attack with his armored leg.
Sasrir danced around the edge of Tessai's reach, trying to find an opening. Every time he struck, the Frost Giant's sheer size allowed him to shrug it off, even as the ice-coated ground worked against Sasrir's footing. Each dodge required perfect timing, each parry demanded immense concentration. It was a fight he could win—but only if he didn't make mistakes.
Tessai's next attack forced him back to the wall. The giant's sword came down like a battering ram, and Sasrir barely managed to block it with the halberd, sparks flying as metal clashed. The impact drove him back, scraping his boots along the frozen floor. The Reaper could feel his advantage slipping; Tessai's strength, size, and frost aura made every move a gamble.
Then, a narrow opportunity appeared. As Tessai overextended with a swing intended to crush Sasrir against the wall, the Frost on the floor began to crack. The ice, uneven from the first series of attacks, gave way slightly under the massive weight of the Frost Giant's next step. Sasrir saw it in a flash—he feinted to the left, drawing Tessai's attention, and spun under the descending sword.
The halberd jabbed into a weak spot between the Frost armour from Tessai's Aspect, while the scimitar slashed across Tessai's thigh at the same moment. The combination was precise, calculated, and deadly—his Soul Cores allowed him to absorb the strain and push the attack past Tessai's massive defenses. The ice under the giant cracked loudly, shifting just enough to destabilize him.
Tessai stumbled, one massive leg slipping slightly on the fractured ice. The swing faltered, the strike slowed, and for the first time, the Frost Giant lost balance. Sasrir pressed the advantage immediately, shadow tendrils lashing out, reinforcing his attacks and keeping Tessai off balance.
With a final, expertly timed strike, Sasrir drove the halberd into Tessai's midsection while slashing across the other leg with the scimitar. Tessai crashed to the ground with a deafening thud, frost cracking around him like shattered glass. He was still alive, still breathing, but fully subdued—unable to continue fighting without risking his life.
Sasrir stood over him, chest rising, shadows receding as he lowered his weapons. His smaller frame was barely scratched, his Soul Cores still fully functional, but he felt the strain from the Frost Giant's immense size and relentless offense. He had narrowly tipped the scales in his favor, exploiting a single flaw in Tessai's stance.
The hall was silent except for the groan of ice and Tessai's labored breathing. Myself, Kai, and the crowd could barely process what had happened: the smaller, faster Reaper had triumphed—but only by the tiniest margin. Every onlooker knew that without that crack in the ice, the duel could have gone the other way in an instant.
I rubbed the crucifix around my neck, a shiver running down my spine despite the outcome, and Kai just stared, mouth slightly open, finally understanding the terrifying precision and danger that came with having Sasrir fight on their side.
The hall was still. The echoes of crashing ice and metal had barely faded before the spectators' murmurs began to ripple outward, a growing tide of disbelief, fear, and awe.
Gunlaug, having seated himself back on his golden throne at the start of the duel, leaned forward slightly, his expression unreadable beneath the glinting metal. His fingers drummed against the armrest, deliberate and measured, but the faint tension in his body revealed that he was not happy with the outcome-or maybe he had just remebered something unpleasant. Either way, the look he sent our way was downright menacing, despite the fact we couldn't even see his eyes.
Seishan, regal and composed as ever, let a small, almost imperceptible smile curve her lips. It was a geniune one this time, one of amusement—it was appraisal, the kind that comes from a commander recognizing a tactician's brilliance. Her gaze lingered on Sasrir, noting the control of shadow and weapon, the fluidity and discipline. Even the tiniest slip would have been fatal, and she recognized that Sasrir had danced right on the edge and not once faltered.
Tessai himself, still sprawled across the frost-cracked floor, struggled to regain his composure. The fury in his eyes burned, and I thought he might try and sweep Sasrir's legs out from under him. He didn't get the chance though, as after the slightest twitch Sasrir pressed the spike on his halberd down harder, drawing blood and making the man hiss.
Harus, who rarely seemed present even when standing in the room, let his hollow, hollowing gaze focus fully on Sasrir for the first time. For a moment, I felt the chill even though the hunchback's attention wasn't even on me. But the subtle shift in Harus' posture—a slight lean forward, the faint twitch of his fingers—was enough to indicate that even this otherwise indifferent, almost dead-appearing figure had registered Sasrir as a proper threat: as an equal.
Tessai's subordinate Guards and other nearby Sleepers could barely speak, the usual arrogance drained from their faces. Some had thought the Reaper was more shadow than flesh, something that could be toyed with, yet they now stared with wide, fearful eyes. Every whispered calculation and bravado-filled claim had been punctured in a single, mercilessly executed duel.
Gemma and Kido, standing together, were visibly shaken. Gemma's face paled slightly, unease flickering across his features as it warred with conflicted opinions. Kido, on the other hand, seemed to reassess everything she thought she knew about the balance of power here. She opened her mouth, closed it, and then simply nodded to herself, as if accepting a new, uncomfortable truth: Sasrir was not to be underestimated.