Saya's black and white katanas gleamed in the dim light—opposites in every way, yet both radiating sheer power. It was as if they existed solely to oppose one another, yet together formed something far more terrifying.
"Whatever you witness next… will lead to your death, kids." Saya's voice was cold, final.
Lily smirked, a flicker of pride in her expression.
"Big sister, you're just underestimating us. No matter what power those blades hold, I know it must drain your mana. You won't be able to sustain it for long. We'll just dodge until you're drained."
Saya gave a sharp, mocking smile.
"If you can dodge… then go ahead. Try."
The boy beside Lily grinned darkly, arrogance oozing from every word.
"Just wait… once we've immobilized you, I'm going to do all kinds of things to you."
Saya's eyes narrowed, her grip tightening.
"If you really think you can, then come forward, boy."
The dying light of evening draped the battlefield in a warm orange glow. There was no moonlight—only the fading sun and the long shadows of the forest creeping inward.
Steel clashed. Dirt scattered beneath swift footsteps. Saya stood in the center of a relentless storm of blades.
Her twin katanas—black in her right hand, white in her left—sliced the air with lethal grace. Yet at first glance, they looked like nothing more than elegant, handcrafted weapons. Beautiful, yes—but not magical. Just cold, sharpened steel carried by a warrior who knew how to use them.
She moved like wind turned blade. Every step she took was calculated. Her black katana came down in brutal arcs, heavy and devastating. Her white katana sliced with precision, quick and refined. Together they formed a perfect rhythm—power and finesse, dancing as one.
Lily and the boy countered with trained grace. They weren't ordinary fighters—they had fought battles, survived wars, and were deadly with their swords. Their defense was solid, their coordination uncanny.
Lily weaved around Saya's strikes, parrying and deflecting with her slim, silver blade. The boy matched her tempo, striking low and aiming for weakness, only to be thwarted again and again. Saya's relentless pressure gave them no opening—but neither did they fall.
Minutes passed. Sweat glistened on foreheads. Footsteps echoed through the forest.
Then Lily's eyes sharpened.
"She's not using magic," she whispered, glancing at her partner. "Let's turn up the heat."
A sudden burst of blue-white flames cloaked Lily's sword. Phantom Flames—ethereal and eerie, they flickered like vengeful spirits dancing along the edge of death.
The boy grinned, lifting his blade. It shimmered pale blue, then erupted in icy mist—Frost Burst. Cold radiated from the steel like a blizzard waiting to strike.
They attacked.
Lily lunged, her blade tracing a burning arc of flame. The boy followed, unleashing a wave of frost that curled across the ground, freezing everything in its path.
And then—Saya's eyes narrowed.
Without a word, she shifted her stance.
Her black katana darkened, the shadows around it pulling inward. It was no longer steel. It was void. The air seemed to bend around it, consumed by something infinite.
Lily's flame struck first.
FWOOOSH. The fire vanished into the katana's edge like it had been inhaled by the darkness.
Then the frost came, howling like winter.
SHHHHHK. Gone. Swallowed by the same blade.
The battlefield paused for a moment. The flames and frost had disappeared—no damage, no aftermath.
The boy's eyes widened. "What the—"
Saya moved.
The white katana flared. Its once subdued light blazed with elemental force. Flame and frost danced across its blade—Phantom and Ice, not hers, but stolen.
She struck.
A wave of Phantom Flame launched from the white katana, trailing behind it a whip of glacial wind. Lily was caught mid-dash, barely twisting her body to avoid the full brunt. Her cloak ignited at the edge while frost licked her side, stiffening her limbs.
She screamed—but the sound was drowned in another blast.
The boy retaliated, slamming his blade into the ground. A geyser of frost burst spikes shot upward toward Saya. She sprinted sideways, dashing between them with inhuman speed. He followed, blade humming with energy.
Saya ducked beneath his swipe and drove her knee into his stomach, sending him crashing back.
Lily returned, slashing with desperation, fire spiraling in her wake. Saya absorbed it again, then struck her shoulder with the white katana—not cutting, but burning and freezing at once. Lily crashed into a tree, choking.
Yet they stood back up. Bruised. Burned. But not broken.
They stood together now, panting, blades at the ready.
Saya's chest rose and fell. A shallow cut across her side bled lightly, but her grip never wavered.
The boy raised his hand—one last gamble. He embedded his frost magic into his blade, sending shards toward Saya to distract her. Lily followed, her sword fully engulfed in phantom flame, charging with all her remaining strength.
This was it.
Their final stand.
Saya met them halfway.
The black katana devoured their magic.
Then both katanas began to hum in perfect synchrony. White and black, void and creation. Saya twisted her stance—one hand pulling magic inward, the other ready to unleash it.
She stepped forward with terrifying calm.
Her white katana ignited.
Phantom Flames and Frost Burst, fused as one.
One perfect vertical arc.
SHHHHHHRK.
The blade tore down through air—through Lily and the boy both—from skull to waist, a single perfect line of destruction. The stolen elemental magic exploded outward, cutting with ghostly heat and glacial silence.
They didn't scream. There was no time.
For a breath, the forest was still.
Then, their bodies split in two, collapsing in perfect symmetry—blackened by flame, frozen at the edges.
Saya exhaled slowly, standing above the smoldering halves.
Her katanas were silent again. No longer glowing. No longer hungry.
"I warned you," she whispered into the breeze.