The battlefield had become a living nightmare.
Steel clashed against steel.
Blood stained the earth beneath the crimson glow of the Blood Moon.
Thousands screamed.
Thousands died.
The war had finally become what everyone feared it would.
Chaos.
Riven moved through it like a storm.
Moonfang and Nightrend flashed through the air.
A soldier lunged.
Riven sidestepped.
One slash.
The man fell.
Another charged.
Then another.
Then another.
The battlefield never stopped moving.
Never stopped demanding.
Never stopped taking.
Riven's chest heaved.
Blood covered his armor.
Most of it wasn't his.
Yet.
The war had only begun.
Around him, Third Order warriors fought desperately against overwhelming numbers.
Everywhere he looked, battles unfolded.
Some won.
Some lost.
Some ending in seconds.
Others becoming desperate struggles for survival.
Then
Something changed.
Riven felt it before he saw it.
A pressure.
Heavy.
Familiar.
Dangerous.
His instincts immediately screamed.
The same instinct that had once warned him during the Fourth Order Trials.
The same instinct that had warned him when defeat became inevitable.
A shadow moved through the battlefield.
Soldiers flew aside.
Bodies crashed into the ground.
Warriors from both sides scrambled away.
Nobody wanted to be near what was approaching.
Nobody wanted to be caught between them.
Because everyone knew.
Everyone remembered.
Riven slowly turned.
And saw him.
Rigor.
The battlefield seemed quieter suddenly.
Not because the fighting had stopped.
Because Riven couldn't hear it anymore.
His attention locked entirely onto the warrior approaching him.
Rigor looked exactly as he remembered.
Massive.
Scarred.
Unbreakable.
A walking fortress disguised as a man.
Blood stained his armor.
Several dead warriors lay behind him.
Evidence of his path across the battlefield.
His expression remained calm.
Almost amused.
As if this entire war existed merely to entertain him.
Their eyes met.
Neither spoke immediately.
Neither looked away.
Around them, soldiers noticed.
The fighting nearby slowed.
Then stopped.
A circle began forming.
Instinctively.
No one wanted to interrupt this.
No one wanted to stand between them.
Because everyone could feel it.
This wasn't another battle.
This was something personal.
Something old.
Something that had been waiting to happen for a very long time.
Rigor finally smiled.
Slowly.
Dangerously.
Then raised one finger.
Pointing directly at Riven.
"Wonder Boy."
The nickname immediately irritated him.
Just like it always had.
Rigor's grin widened.
"Finally."
A pause.
"After all this time."
Riven's hands tightened around his twin blades.
Moonfang.
Nightrend.
The steel seemed to hum beneath his grip.
Rigor continued.
"After all the training."
"After all the growth."
"After all the stories."
He tilted his head slightly.
"Now we finally get to decide who's superior."
Silence.
Blood dripped from Riven's armor.
His heartbeat remained steady.
Controlled.
Focused.
Then he spoke.
Coldly.
"I've killed warriors before."
A pause.
"I don't mind adding one more to the tally."
The soldiers nearby visibly stiffened.
Rigor simply laughed.
A deep sound.
Genuine.
Excited.
The kind of laugh a predator made before the hunt began.
"Good."
His aura began to rise.
The ground beneath him cracked.
Dust lifted into the air.
Power rolled from him like an approaching tsunami.
Then he lowered his stance.
The grin never leaving his face.
"Then let's begin."
For one brief moment
The battlefield disappeared.
No armies.
No war.
No Blood Moon.
Only two warriors.
Only one destination.
Victory.
Both moved simultaneously.
BOOM.
The earth exploded beneath their feet.
Shockwaves tore across the battlefield.
Soldiers stumbled.
Several were thrown backward.
The distance vanished instantly.
Steel collided.
The sound was deafening.
Moonfang met Rigor's blade.
Nightrend followed immediately.
Rigor blocked both.
The impact shattered the ground beneath them.
Cracks spread outward.
Several nearby soldiers fled.
The pressure alone was unbearable.
Riven attacked again.
Fast.
Precise.
Two strikes.
Three.
Four.
Rigor answered each one.
Perfectly.
Neither gave ground.
Neither yielded.
Then Rigor's fist came forward.
Riven barely crossed his blades in time.
The impact launched him backward.
He crashed through a formation of enemy soldiers.
Bodies scattered.
Riven landed.
Skidded.
Immediately pushed forward again.
No hesitation.
No fear.
The battlefield erupted around them.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Steel flashed.
Shockwaves exploded.
Dust clouds rose.
Every collision sounded like thunder.
Nearby soldiers could only watch.
Because interfering would mean death.
Rigor smiled wider with every exchange.
"Better."
CLANG.
"Much better."
CLANG.
"You're finally starting to look like a warrior."
Riven drove both blades downward.
Rigor twisted aside.
The strike split the earth.
Rigor's elbow immediately connected with Riven's ribs.
CRACK.
Pain exploded through his side.
Riven staggered.
Rigor followed.
A kick.
A punch.
Another strike.
Each blow felt like being hit by a siege weapon.
Riven blocked what he could.
Dodged what he couldn't.
Still.
The difference remained obvious.
Rigor was stronger.
Physically.
Overwhelmingly stronger.
One mistake.
One opening.
One second too slow.
That was all it took.
Rigor grabbed Riven by the throat.
Lifted him off the ground.
Then slammed him into the earth.
The impact created a crater.
Blood filled Riven's mouth.
His vision blurred.
For a moment.
Only a moment.
The old fear returned.
The memory of the Fourth Order Trial.
The memory of being helpless.
The memory of defeat.
Rigor looked down at him.
Almost disappointed.
"Don't tell me that's all."
Riven growled.
Then drove his knee upward.
Rigor blocked.
But the distraction was enough.
Moonfang slashed across Rigor's shoulder.
Blood sprayed.
The battlefield froze.
Rigor stared at the wound.
Then looked back at Riven.
Slowly.
The grin returned.
Bigger than before.
More dangerous.
More excited.
For the first time.
Riven had drawn blood.
"Now that's interesting."
His aura exploded.
The sky seemed to darken.
The Blood Moon glowed brighter overhead.
Riven immediately knew.
The real fight was beginning.
Around them, commanders shouted.
Armies continued colliding.
The war raged onward.
But neither Riven nor Rigor paid attention anymore.
Their battlefield had become separate from everyone else's.
Personal.
Violent.
Unfinished.
Rigor rolled his shoulders.
The wound already healing.
Then pointed his blade directly at Riven.
"Come on, Wonder Boy."
His voice echoed beneath the Blood Moon.
"Show me how much you've grown."
Riven wiped blood from his mouth.
Adjusted his stance.
Raised both blades.
And charged.
The collision that followed shattered an entire section of the battlefield.
And neither warrior noticed as their fight began carrying them deeper into Third Order territory.
Toward cities.
Toward civilians.
Toward destruction.
Toward the battle that would break them both.