The rain no longer touched Isabela.
The drops evaporated before reaching her.
The air around her body vibrated with a blue aura that burned like a living flame.
Azazel watched.
Unhurried.
Without any sign of urgency.
But his gaze had changed.
More attentive.
More precise.
The blue flames left by Isabela across the field began to react.
Small tongues of fire rose from the broken ground.
From the cut walls.
From the impossible furrows that crossed the street.
As if responding to her presence.
Isabela breathed slowly.
And for the first time since the beginning of the fight—
the world slowed.
Not because time had changed.
But because she could finally see.
The eye with the Algiz rune watched Azazel.
And something new emerged in her perception.
Small signs.
Almost invisible.
The minimal tension in the shoulder.
The direction of intention before the gesture.
Azazel noticed.
He tilted his head slightly.
A small gesture.
But deliberate.
Then he spoke.
The voice calm.
Almost curious.
"Interesting."
His gaze moved slowly across her eyes.
The runes glowing beneath the rain that evaporated.
A small silence.
Then he continued.
His voice came out low.
Measured.
"Those marks…"
His gaze remained fixed on her eyes.
Observing every detail of the blue light pulsing in the runes.
A brief pause.
His gaze swept across the field.
The blue flames that slowly began to gather around Isabela.
Then returned to her face.
Then Azazel spoke again.
Without emotion.
"It seems…"
A minimal pause.
His gaze passed over the runes in her eyes once more.
"…that I will have to take you seriously."
Isabela did not answer.
She only released the air slowly.
The warm vapor mixed with the blue flames that flickered around her.
Her eyes scanned the field.
The scattered fire marks.
The trails left by previous blows.
Burned furrows in the ground.
In the broken walls.
She observed everything.
Silent.
Then murmured, almost to herself:
"I see."
Isabela raised her arm.
The flames responded.
First a thread.
Then several.
The tongues of blue fire began to move across the field.
As if pulled by an invisible force.
They slid across the wet ground.
Climbed the cut walls.
Leapt from the fissures opened in the soil.
Currents of blue fire converged toward her hand.
The energy began to spin.
Condense.
Lengthen.
A blade was born.
Long.
Narrow.
Made of living flame.
Isabela held the hilt formed by the flames themselves.
Raised the blade.
And then spoke.
But the voice was not only hers.
Two voices echoed together.
Hers.
And another older one.
Deeper.
"Let judgment begin here."
Azazel was already moving.
Two fingers cut the air.
The gesture was small.
Precise.
Nothing happened.
For half a second.
Space ripped open.
An invisible rift crossed the street.
Isabela had already disappeared.
A blue trail remained where she had stood.
Thin flames burning in the air.
Azazel turned his body half a step.
Another cutting gesture.
Two lines appeared in a cross.
Space opened.
Isabela emerged inside the intersection.
Her foot touched the ground in a short step.
Low stance
Hips turning.
The flame sword described a horizontal arc.
Azazel leaned his torso back.
The blade passed centimeters from his chest.
The flame remained in the air.
A blue scar burning in space.
Azazel slid one step sideways.
Short movement.
Absolute control of balance.
Isabela was already advancing in a triangle.
Left step.
Hip rotation.
Thrust.
Azazel answered with a descending gesture.
The tear formed above her.
The Algiz rune in her right eye flared.
The intention appeared before the rift.
Isabela dove into the strike.
Space tore behind her.
The blade was already rising in an ascending cut.
Azazel raised his hand.
The air around him collapsed.
Gravity condensed.
Repulsion exploded.
The impact struck Isabela like an invisible wall.
But she was already turning her body.
Her right foot anchored in the mud.
Her torso spun.
The blue blade cut through the gravitational wave.
Azazel was forced to retreat.
One quick step.
Another.
The sword passed in front of his face.
The blue flame left a burning trail in the air.
Azazel had already moved back three steps.
Gravity settled around him again.
Isabela did not stop.
Her foot touched the ground.
Explosion of movement.
Short step.
Axis change.
Diagonal cut.
Azazel's hands traced three lines in the air.
Space did not tear.
It collapsed.
Isabela kept advancing.
Then the world opened.
Three rifts appeared simultaneously.
One to the left.
Another to the right.
The third coming from above.
Isabela spun her body.
The blue blade described a complete arc.
The flames left a burning circle around her.
One of the rifts cut through the fire.
But the trail of flame revealed the cut.
She dove through the only safe angle.
Came out the other side already advancing.
Now she was too close.
Isabela advanced one more step.
Her shoulder turned.
The flame sword was already descending.
Then Azazel's eyes met hers.
No gesture.
No movement.
The Algiz rune in her right eye flared.
Isabela stopped the strike in the middle of the arc.
Her body pulled back in a fluid spin.
Change of stance.
The first cut tore the space where she had been.
She was already turning again.
Her foot slid through the mud.
Her body leaned outside the invisible line.
Another tear crossed the air.
Isabela jumped.
Her body describing a light movement.
Almost graceful.
Like an ancient war dance.
The third rift split the ground behind her.
Stone broke.
Water exploded.
Isabela landed several steps back.
The blue sword still burning in her hand.
The battlefield fell silent for an instant.
She raised her gaze.
Azazel remained exactly where he had been.
Watching.
Then the voice came again.
Not in the air.
But inside her.
Ancient.
Deep.
Like old iron dragging across stone.
"Listen, child."
The echo of the voice seemed to cross something far older than that battle.
"The Algiz rune grants no power to foresee the future."
A brief pause.
"It only reveals the instant in which the enemy decides to kill."
Isabela remained motionless.
The blue flame flickering around the blade.
"Before the action is born, the omen rises before your eyes."
"A brief instant of vision."
"A breath before the blade falls."
Silence.
Then the voice grew heavier.
"Against mortals… that is enough."
A long pause.
"But the one before you is not mortal."
Her eyes remained fixed on Azazel in the distance.
"He walked through wars when empires were still learning how to raise walls."
"He fought battles whose names have already been forgotten by the world."
The blue flame of the sword rippled slightly.
"The moment he understands the full reach of your sight…"
The voice finished, calm.
Implacable.
"He will find the path to your death."
A brief silence passed through Isabela's mind.
Then the voice spoke again.
Lower.
Older.
"Therefore…"
"Do not prolong this judgment."
The blue flame around the blade trembled.
"Decide it in the next strikes."
"Before he understands what has been granted to you."
Silence returned.
The presence of the voice disappeared like a distant echo.
Isabela remained motionless.
The flame sword burning in her hand.
And Azazel still watching her.
Isabela released the air slowly.
The warm vapor crossed the rain that evaporated around her.
Her body relaxed for an instant.
Only one.
Then it changed.
Her right foot advanced half a step.
The left anchored behind.
Her body's weight lowered.
Her stance opened.
It was not only a combat position.
It was the stance of someone who had accepted a verdict.
The blue flames around the sword grew.
The two runes in her eyes shone together.
Algiz on the right.
Tiwaz on the left.
Isabela breathed once.
Then spoke, almost in a whisper.
"Circle of judgment..."
The flames spread across the field.
They ran across the wet ground like serpents of light.
First around Isabela.
Then beyond.
The tongues of fire slid through the furrows opened in the street.
Climbed the broken stones.
Leapt between the fissures left by Azazel's cuts.
Azazel did not move.
The flames completed the design.
A wide circle.
Enclosing them both.
For an instant the fire rotated.
Slow.
Then went out.
Isabela advanced in the same instant.
Firm step in the mud.
Low base.
Total control of axis.
Azazel moved two fingers.
A diagonal cut in the air.
The gesture was perfect.
But nothing happened.
A bluff.
Isabela did not slow.
She kept advancing.
Azazel then only raised his eyes.
No gesture.
Algiz flared.
Isabela sidestepped half a step.
Space tore where she had been.
An invisible cut crossed the air.
The ground split behind her.
Stone broke.
Water exploded.
Isabela entered close range.
Her shoulder turned.
The flame sword descended.
Azazel moved his open hand.
Gravity collapsed around him.
The air solidified.
An invisible shield.
The blue blade struck the defense.
The impact reverberated through Isabela's arm.
Her stance yielded half a step in the mud.
Minimal imbalance.
But enough.
Azazel pressed his gaze forward
His fingers began cutting the air again.
Isabela reacted first.
She threw the sword.
The flame blade spun through the air.
Azazel tilted his head.
The blade passed in front of his face.
At the same instant—
he cut space.
A diagonal line tore the air.
The strike passed through Isabela.
She staggered and fell.
Azazel remained still.
Watching.
Then he felt the heat.
The red eyes slowly lowered.
A blue flame blade was already buried in his chest.
Blood began to run around the flame that pierced him.
Then his gaze returned to Isabela.
Behind him—
she was standing.
The whisper came out low.
Cold.
"...Valkyrie's Dance."
The fallen body in front began to dissolve.
Blue flames rose from the skin.
Consuming the false form.
Until nothing remained.
Isabela pulled the sword free.
His body shifted back half a step.
The first true reaction since the beginning of the fight.
His eyes narrowed as he noticed the marks on the ground.
Runes carved into the mud.
He smiled.
A small smile.
Almost satisfied.
"Clever."
The red eyes remained calm.
"You did not count on my strength."
A pause.
"You counted on my curiosity."
He remained still for an instant.
"You waited for me to try to understand your power so you could ensnare me in your trap."
Then he turned.
Slowly.
The red eyes met Isabela's blue ones.
She stepped forward.
Closed her eyes for a brief second.
A memory came like a distant echo.
"Kill me…"
Her father's whisper crossed her mind as if he were still in that room.
"I accepted the burden," she murmured to the nothingness, or perhaps to her father's ghost.
She opened her eyes.
The tremor she had felt in that room years ago no longer existed.
Only silence.
And decision.
The silence weighed over the ruined field.
Her voice became firmer.
"Azazel."
"This judgment ends here."
She raised the flame blade.
"As the last fragment of the Western March…"
"I, Isabela Svanhild,"
"declare you guilty."
Then the marks on the ground reignited.
One by one.
Like embers awakening beneath the mud.
The circle awakened.
Blue fire rose from the mud.
From the broken stones.
From the furrows left by the battle.
Enclosing Azazel.
Columns of flame rose around his body.
Isabela watched.
The blue fire rose from the mud like ancient pillars.
As if something buried beneath that land had finally awakened.
The light reflected in her eyes.
And for an instant, she did not see Azazel.
She saw only the shadows of those who had fallen.
Her voice came out low.
"May the spirit of my father…"
"and that of my fallen brothers…"
"finally find rest."
The blue flames rose higher.
And the circle answered.