The ground cracked under his feet as Aleron launched forward, molten aura flaring violently around him.
The woman's sleeve flicked, releasing a blade of compressed wind, invisible until it carved through the space between them.
Aleron twisted mid-stride, letting it whistle past his cheek, the edge slicing a shallow cut along his jaw.
He didn't stop.
Metallic threads from the soil surged upward at his call, weaving around his arms into long, jagged extensions.
With a guttural roar, he brought them down in a diagonal slash. The air screamed as the strike cut through it, the pressure enough to gouge deep lines into the ground even before it landed.
Her hand rose, palm open. The metal struck something unseen and shattered into fragments. The backlash rattled his bones.
"Your control is strong," she said coldly. "But against me, every weapon becomes mine."
The fragments of metal he had just summoned quivered in the air—then shot back at him in a scatter of deadly shards.
