Winter was genuinely shocked by what he was seeing. His eyes followed the angelic wings extending from the Demon Knight's back, watching the white feathers move in slow, controlled beats that kept him suspended in the air.
"Why do you look like that? Is it because of those talismans the Demon Lord put on you?" Winter asked, his tone calm and curious rather than mocking.
The Demon Knight gave no answer. He remained completely silent, halberd held out in a direct line toward Winter, the weapon steady and unmoving.
Winter let out a short sigh. "Alright. I guess that is what we are doing." His expression hardened as he brought his spear forward, grip firm and practiced. "Winter, The Chosen One."
"Maledictus, The Cursed Knight," the Demon Knight replied immediately.
They charged at the same time.
Maledictus leaned forward as his wings beat harder, accelerating in a straight line through the open sky. Winter answered by increasing the output of the fire beneath him, the steady jet intensifying as it carried him forward to meet the charge. They collided above the clouds, their weapons crashing together with enough force to tear the vapor below them apart, leaving a wide hollow where the clouds had been.
They did not separate.
Maledictus rolled his wrists and dragged the halberd down Winter's spear, forcing the shaft aside and stepping—flying—into the opening immediately. His wings adjusted in short, sharp corrections, keeping his body aligned as he thrust straight for Winter's torso. Winter twisted his spear just enough to deflect the blade off-line and angled his fire to slide sideways through the air, the jet never cutting out as he shifted position by meters in less than a second.
Maledictus stayed on him. He shortened his grip, snapping the halberd back and driving it forward again, then again, each thrust timed to where Winter would be rather than where he was. Winter responded by riding his fire upward at an angle, spear rotating in tight arcs to knock each strike aside, the movements compact and economical. They tore through the upper edge of the cloud layer, weaving in and out of dense vapor as displaced air rippled outward with every near-miss.
The distance between them collapsed repeatedly. Metal struck metal in rapid succession, not wide swings but short, brutal contacts that sent tremors through both weapons. Maledictus used the halberd's length to keep pressure constant, forcing Winter to adjust his altitude continuously. Winter countered by changing the vector of his fire mid-motion, slipping above one strike, dropping beneath the next, always keeping the spear between them.
Maledictus pressed harder. He angled his wings sharply and cut across Winter's path, dragging the halberd sideways to block escape before stabbing straight through the opening he created. Winter caught the shaft with his spear, twisted, and forced the weapon aside, the strain sending a visible shudder through both of them.
In the same motion, Winter brought his free hand up and unleashed a focused, continuous torrent of bright red flames. The fire surged forward like a sustained lance, heat compressing the air ahead of it until it warped white as it closed the distance.
Maledictus reacted instantly. He released the halberd, snapped his grip back to the rear of the shaft, and drew it behind him like a javelin as a holy aura surged along its length. He hurled it straight into the oncoming fire.
The halberd split the flames cleanly and kept coming.
Winter angled his fire downward and dropped just enough for the weapon to pass, then drove the jet harder to halt his descent. He snapped his spear up, caught the halberd near the blade, twisted his torso to absorb and redirect its momentum, and hurled it straight up into the atmosphere above, sending it vanishing skyward.
They hovered apart for a brief moment, torn clouds drifting between them.
"You're impressive. Too impressive," Winter said as he stared at Maledictus. "The last time someone managed to match me like this, it was one of Ercale's generals." He tightened his grip on his spear. "If there are any others like you, Aetheria might actually be in trouble."
His words made Maledictus hesitate.
The Demon Knight did not lower his guard, but his wings slowed, the steady rhythm faltering just enough to be noticeable. His head tilted slightly, the motion small and deliberate. "One of Lord Ercale's generals?" he asked, voice even but edged with genuine curiosity. "You place me below him?"
Winter gave a single nod, unhesitating. "Yes." His grip on the spear remained firm, posture unchanged, eyes never leaving Maledictus. "Do not misunderstand. You are strong. Stronger than most I have faced." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "But Ercale was the strongest Demon Lord for a reason. Power like that does not happen by chance."
The fire beneath Winter's feet continued to burn in a steady column, keeping him level as he spoke. "Compared to him, you fall short," he said calmly. "Compared to one of his generals?" His gaze sharpened. "You are almost certainly their equal."
For a brief moment, Winter's focus drifted inward, his thoughts returning to Ercale's three generals and the battles that had proven their strength beyond doubt. *I wonder how the two that survived are…*