Snow whipped across the ridge in ragged sheets, curling through the fractured valley like restless ghosts. The sound of metal clashing against metal carried beneath the storm — a rhythm too violent to belong to nature.
Zander pivoted low, boots skidding on wet stone, twin swords flashing in arcs of silver light. Sparks burst where steel kissed steel — Raixin met him head-on, shortblades in both hands, his movements a blur of economy and vicious precision.
Each strike came like the hiss of a serpent — tight, efficient, meant to kill.
Zander caught one, deflected another, his equilibrium flowing seamlessly through every motion. He no longer thought — only moved, each step calibrated, each breath balanced between violence and stillness. The rhythm of the Resonant Equilibrium pulsed within him like a quiet drumbeat beneath the roar of the storm.
Their blades crossed in a lock.
Raixin's smirk flashed through the flurries. "You've grown sharper… that flow, that precision — you're far beyond what any normal echelon should manage." His tone was half mocking, half impressed, the grin slicing across his bloodless face. "No wonder you've been a thorn in everyone's side."
Zander met his gaze, expression unreadable. "You'll have to cut deeper than words to make me bleed."
He pushed, twisting his wrists. Metal screeched as their weapons slid apart. Raixin lunged instantly — shortblades cutting inward, slashing like claws. Zander's body moved before thought intervened, his flow changing to Flowing Current, the second form of Duality's Flow. His stance softened, movements circular — redirecting momentum, guiding energy rather than contesting it.
Raixin struck like lightning.Zander answered like water.
They spun across the snow-laden rocks, exchanging flurries of steel. Every clash echoed through the canyon — a metallic storm beneath the howling wind.
From the cliffs above, a mammoth roared — wounded, enraged — and charged blindly downslope. The ground shuddered under its weight. Zander adjusted instinctively, angling his next movement so that Raixin's step backward would align with the beast's trajectory.
The mammoth thundered between them — Raixin dove aside at the last instant, the wind from its passage ripping his hood free.
"Still playing tricks," Raixin spat, sliding to a crouch, snow spraying around him. "You haven't changed."
Zander's blades gleamed, breath steady. "You have."
Raixin grinned coldly. "You're right."
He vanished — no, moved — a blur across the snow. His twin shortblades came from opposite angles, crossing in an "X" aimed straight for Zander's neck.
Zander's equilibrium flared — energy spiraled through his core, anchoring his stance. The first strike he parried, the second he deflected upward, stepping inside Raixin's guard. His right sword traced a downward arc — the edge kissed Raixin's shoulder, slicing through the leather, drawing a flash of blood.
Raixin snarled, twisting away, boot snapping out in a low kick that sent Zander sliding back.
Pain blossomed through Zander's forearms — the force of each clash was catching up. Raixin's physical strength still exceeded his; every direct exchange rattled through bone. He had to time each deflection perfectly or risk being overwhelmed.
Flow, he reminded himself. Don't resist — redirect.
A shadow swept overhead.
Haas eagles — massive, snow-feathered predators — circled low, shrieking as they dove through the storm. Their talons raked the air, one snatching at a dire wolf below. The valley was chaos incarnate: mammoths trampling wolves, eagles diving and screaming, the snowstorm thickening with fury.
Aetheros darted through that chaos — white fur streaked with blood, eyes blazing gold. He moved like a ghost among monsters, silent, predatory, waiting.
Zander parried another strike and countered — his left blade slashing in a crescent. Raixin caught it barely, but the angle drove him back toward a jagged stone ridge.
For a heartbeat, Zander saw an opening.
He lunged.
Raixin twisted — but not fast enough. Zander's sword grazed his ribs, tearing cloth and drawing a grunt. Raixin retaliated instantly, spinning low, both shortblades scissoring up. Zander barely managed to intercept; sparks flew again, hot against his cheek.
They broke apart, breathing hard, circling each other in the snow.
Raixin's voice was low, taunting. "You think balance can save you from strength?"
Zander smiled faintly. "No. But it keeps me standing."
Raixin's eyes flicked with irritation — and something darker.
He lunged again, faster. The blades clashed in a blinding sequence — strike, parry, deflect, return. Snow erupted around them, footprints overlapping in chaotic patterns.
Then — a growl.
A dire wolf burst from the side ridge, leaping for Raixin's back. Its teeth snapped inches from his throat — he twisted, cursing, slashing backward. The wolf missed but collided with him, knocking him off balance.
That was the heartbeat Zander needed.
He stepped in — blades crossing in a precise, mirrored arc — and struck. One blade cut along Raixin's arm, the other thrust for his chest.
Raixin jerked aside, but not enough — the sword sank shallow into his side.
Aetheros struck next.
The beast lunged from the flank, jaws locking around Raixin's ankle. A crunch echoed — tendons tore. Raixin howled in rage, his blade plunging down, stabbing at Aetheros.
The wolf-beast released, rolling aside, blood splattering across the snow.
Zander's heart hammered. Now.
He surged forward, blades crossing for the decisive strike—
—but Raixin moved like a wounded animal cornered. His fury ignited. He spun, one shortblade slashing in a brutal backhand that Zander barely ducked. The second came like a flash of silver lightning — catching his shoulder. Pain flared white-hot; he staggered.
Aetheros lunged again — Raixin's heel crashed into the beast's ribs, sending it skidding across the snow.
"Stay down!" Raixin roared, blood running from his side, eyes blazing crimson with fury.
Zander steadied himself, chest heaving, blades trembling faintly in his grip.
The wind shrieked through the canyon. The chaos around them blurred into sound and motion — mammoths trumpeting, wolves snarling, wings beating the air.
All that existed now was him and Raixin.
The two blurred together again — steel and snow and fury.
Raixin struck like a storm; Zander flowed like a tide. His mind calculated each breath, each turn, each step through the shifting terrain. Every move was a gamble — redirect, evade, counter.
He could feel his body reaching its limit — the resonance in his arms beginning to crackle with strain. But he held steady, eyes locked on Raixin's rhythm. He was beginning to see it now — the pattern behind the chaos.
Raixin's breathing. His pivot. The minute tightening of his left shoulder before each downward slash.
There.
Zander exhaled. The world slowed.
He sidestepped, letting Raixin's next attack glide past his ribs by a hair's breadth, and turned the momentum into a rising strike — his right sword cutting up in a smooth, flowing arc. The blade sliced across Raixin's chest.
Blood burst into the cold air.
Raixin's eyes widened — pain and disbelief mixing into a snarl. He retaliated instantly, both blades lashing out wildly. Zander crossed his swords in an X to block — sparks exploded between them.
Their eyes met.
"Not bad…" Raixin hissed, lips curling. "But not enough."
He twisted his blades, pushing forward. Zander's knees trembled under the force.
And yet — he smiled.
"Maybe not," he whispered, "but it's a start."
He dropped low, pivoted, and slammed his boot against Raixin's injured leg. The man roared, stumbling — and Aetheros lunged from behind, claws raking his back.
Raixin spun, slashing wildly — his blade bit into Aetheros' flank, blood spraying across the snow. The beast yelped but didn't back down, circling to Zander's flank again.
Now it was two against one — and even in his fury, Raixin understood the danger.
He fought harder.
Blades flashed. Snow churned red.
Zander's arms screamed with pain, but he ignored it. He focused on rhythm, on breath, on flow. His consciousness narrowed to the feel of motion, to the pulse of equilibrium within.
And somewhere deep within that rhythm, he felt it — the whisper of something beyond his reach. A spark of comprehension — faint, unfinished — like the edge of a revelation.
He could almost touch it.
Raixin lunged again.
Zander met him mid-stride — both moving faster than before, driven by instinct and will.
Their weapons crossed — once, twice — and then locked in perfect symmetry, both straining against the other, muscles trembling, breath misting in the freezing air.
For an instant, the entire valley seemed to hold its breath.
Snow fell between them, slow and silent.
Then the wind howled — and they both moved.
The clash resounded like thunder.
Steel against steel. Fury against calm. Predator against balance.
The storm above mirrored the storm below.
And as the chaos roared around them — wolves dying, eagles screaming, mammoths toppling into the ravine — the two figures remained locked in their deadly rhythm, neither willing to yield.
The howl beneath the storm carried their battle cry into the distance.
And the fight — was far from over.