Draven stepped over another fallen knight—
And the air shifted.
A sudden spike of pressure.
A sharp displacement in the wind.
He moved on instinct.
A fist, wrapped in violently compressed wind, tore through the space where his head had been a fraction of a second earlier.
The impact missed—
But it struck the building behind him.
Stone exploded outward as the force punched straight through the structure, tearing a tunnel through brick and timber alike. The upper floors groaned and partially collapsed, sending clouds of dust into the night sky.
Draven landed lightly several meters away, cloak settling around him.
He looked up.
Standing amid the swirling currents of wind was **Seraphine**.
Her armor gleamed under the firelight, her cloak snapping violently in the gale she commanded. Silver hair whipped across her face, and her eyes were sharp, focused entirely on him.
Draven exhaled slowly.
"You're one damn annoying bitch, you know that."
No anger. Just irritation.
Seraphine didn't respond.
The wind around her condensed, denser this time, spiraling around her arms and legs like living blades. The cobblestones beneath her feet cracked.
Then she vanished.
Not teleportation—acceleration.
She reappeared in front of him mid-strike, wind condensing around her fist into a tearing vortex aimed straight at his chest.
Draven twisted sideways, barely avoiding the brunt of it. The edge of the attack grazed his cloak, shredding the fabric instantly.
He slid backward across the street, boots carving furrows into stone.
She didn't pause.
A spinning kick followed, wind exploding outward in a crescent arc that split the ground as it passed.
Draven ducked under it and stepped inward.
Their movements were precise. Efficient. No wasted energy.
Above them, Aldric's clash with Commander Caelum shook the sky.
Below, Draven and Seraphine faced each other once more. The wind howled between them. Neither intended to retreat.
Seraphine came down with a crushing downward kick.
Draven sidestepped—
But the wind obeyed her. Mid-descent, the current twisted violently, altering her trajectory. Her leg curved unnaturally through the air, heel redirecting straight for Draven's head.
His body leaned back sharply, spine arching, just enough for the strike to skim past his face—
But it didn't completely miss.
The wind compressed.
The kick descended again.
Draven's arm snapped upward, catching her leg mid-force. Using her momentum, he twisted his torso and lifted into the air with her, redirecting the vector of her strike.
Her heel smashed into the ground instead.
The street detonated. Stone exploded upward as a burst of wind erupted in a circular shockwave.
But she was already moving.
Even as debris filled the air, her fist shot upward toward Draven, still airborne.
Draven's hand shot out. He caught her arm, twisted sharply, and launched a precise kick toward her ribs.
She reacted instantly, raising her free hand to guard. The strike slammed into her forearm with a crack of displaced air.
She held. Boots grinding against stone as she absorbed the force.
But that had only been the first strike.
Draven's other leg snapped out—once. Twice. Three times. In rapid succession.
Each kick landed with precise, focused force.
The final one broke her footing.
She was sent flying backward, boots dragging through the street and carving twin trenches into the earth before she stabilized.
Draven flipped once midair, landing gently. Cloak settling. Dust swirling around him.
For half a second—silence.
Then—
The instant his feet touched the ground—
She was already there.
Wind screamed as she reappeared in front of him, fist cocked back, eyes cold and locked onto his. No hesitation. No wasted movement.
The fight had only just begun.
Her fist came in like a cannon shot.
The wind around it was no longer swirling—it was compressed. Dense. Focused to a single point, meant to obliterate whatever it touched.
Draven didn't retreat. He stepped in. His palm shot forward and collided with hers.
The street beneath them shattered. A circular crater formed instantly as opposing forces met—wind screaming against condensed mana.
For a split second—
They stood locked. Red eyes against silver.
Then the wind detonated.
The shockwave tore outward, ripping apart nearby stalls and blasting debris into the night sky.
Draven slid back several meters, boots skidding over broken stone.
Seraphine flipped backward gracefully, landing atop a fractured lamppost before pushing off again.
She didn't let him breathe. Three compressed wind blades formed at her side and shot forward in rapid succession.
Draven pivoted.
First blade—he tilted his head; it shaved past his cheek.
Second—he stepped aside, letting it carve a clean line through the building behind him.
Third—he caught it. His hand wrapped around the edge of condensed wind, but he crushed the mana structure with brute force, dispersing it.
Seraphine's eyes narrowed slightly. She vanished again.
Draven's senses sharpened. Left—he blocked a knee strike aimed at his ribs. Right—he twisted as her elbow grazed his jaw. She flowed into a spinning backfist—he ducked—she used the rotation to generate lift, rising above him and slamming both heels downward.
Draven crossed his arms. The impact drove him knee-deep into shattered pavement. Wind exploded upward in a pillar. Dust clouded the street.
Seraphine flipped away, landing lightly several meters back.
Draven stepped out of the crater, unharmed, brushing dust from his sleeve.
"You're really trying tonight."
She didn't answer, but the wind around her changed. Quieter. Sharper. More refined.
Above them, an airship exploded as Aldric's laughter echoed through the sky. The battlefield burned. Knights shouted in the distance.
Draven tilted his head slightly. "…Guess I'll start doing the same."
The air around him thickened. Temperature dropped.
Seraphine moved first.
This time—there was no visible buildup. No dramatic surge of wind.
She vanished—
And in the next instant, the air cracked.
A sonic boom detonated where she had been standing.
Draven barely turned his head before her fist was already there.
He raised his forearm—impact.
The shock didn't just strike his body. It exploded outward in a violent concussive wave that shattered every remaining window along the street.
Another boom. A kick. Another.
Each strike tore through the air faster than sound, leaving ruptured pressure trails behind them.
Draven's eyes sharpened. *Sound.*
Not just wind. Wind alone didn't create that kind of focused, concussive compression.
A second rune. Sound rune.
He hadn't expected that.
Her acceleration wasn't just enhanced—it was amplified through vibration.
Her strikes weren't just fast—they were detonations.
For the first time—
Draven was pushed back.
His boots carved furrows into broken stone as blow after blow forced him to yield ground.
She pressed closer. Both hands rose at once.
Draven reacted immediately, raising his arms to block the incoming clap.
Her palms collided against his guard—but that wasn't the real attack.
The instant her hands met, a compressed sound wave released outward in two directions.
Not forward. Not backward. Sideways.
They curved—
And converged directly at the center.
At his head.
Draven realized it a fraction too late.
The sound wave slammed inward from both sides—then shot straight upward through the middle.
Into his skull.
Silence—then a violent internal rupture.
His eardrums burst. Blood sprayed from his ears and nose instantly. Vision blurred violently. Eyes bled at the corners as capillaries ruptured.
A high-pitched ringing consumed everything.
For half a second—
The world tilted.
But he moved. Even blinded, even deafened, his body reacted.
He forced distance, launching backward in a rapid retreat, boots skidding across debris before he stabilized several meters away.
His injuries were already healing. Skin knitting. Eardrums reforming. Blood stopped as the wounds closed.
But the ringing remained. A lingering vibration in his skull.
Seraphine appeared in front of him again, not attacking immediately. Silver hair drifted lightly in the disturbed air.
"You're still conscious," she observed coolly. Her eyes flicked to the dried blood at his ears.
"And still moving."
A faint smile curved her lips.
"You regenerated your eardrums already."
She tilted her head slightly. "That's good. I would've been disappointed if that was all it took."
The wind around her compressed once more—this time layered with a faint hum. Vibration beneath the current.
She launched again. Faster than before. Her strikes came relentlessly—each detonating with concussive force designed to rupture from the inside out.
Draven's red eyes sharpened through the blur.
The ringing hadn't stopped. And she wasn't giving him time to adapt.