Floor 1351.
The gate opened into a realm of howling white wind.
The arena was a jagged mountain ridge, floating in the sky above a shattered world. The wind here wasn't air—it was a sharpened, sentient current of Severing Wind Law, a domain where even thoughts could be sliced apart.
At the far end stood the first challenger.
A swordswoman clad in shorn silk and frost-cut armor, her blade thinner than breath. Her hair floated like threads of light, and her eyes burned with clarity.
"I am Ilyra of the Cutting Gale," she said.
"I have slain dragons with a single whisper. My blade does not miss. Nor does it forgive."
She raised her sword.
The wind screamed.
Even before the Hollow Knight moved, his armor cracked.
Asher, standing at the edge of the cliff with the wind slicing harmlessly around his form, gave a soft nod.
"...You may use your Laws now."
The Knight stepped forward.
