The wind roared like thunder trapped between the buildings, and the rooftop of the Highspire trembled under the weight of the ritual. The sky was an open wound—torn by red light and purple lightning that danced over the glowing magic circle.
Kimberly stood firm, her twin flaming blades vibrating in her hands. In front of her, the Silver Swordsman spun his weapon with deadly grace, the metallic reflection of his helmet hiding whatever eyes lay beneath.
Karmila watched from a few meters away, as if witnessing a grand performance.
A faint smile curved her pale lips.
"Let's see how far you can go, little hunter…"
The first step was silent.
The second, thunderous.
The Swordsman moved—a silver blur—and the clash of metal echoed like church bells breaking the silence of the night.
Kimberly blocked the strike by instinct, sparks bursting all around them.
The duel began.
The silver blade descended in an arc; Kimberly twisted her body, dodging, then countered with a sideways slash.
The impact cracked the rooftop beneath them.
The Swordsman leapt, his movement fluid—too fast for the naked eye to follow. Kim rolled back and fired a magic grenade—blue explosion, smoke, and shrapnel flying everywhere.
From within the haze, the enemy's sword cut through the air, slicing the sleeve of her coat.
Kim lunged forward. Two crossing slashes—fire and steel colliding.
The sound was brutal, rhythmic, like an orchestra of blades.
The Swordsman retreated, spun, and struck again—a deadly dance. Kimberly raised both swords, blocking the dual strike, but the sheer force cracked the floor beneath her feet.
She pushed him back, a primal scream tearing from her throat.
"Who the hell are you?!"
The helmet tilted slightly.
"Only a reflection of what you were meant to be."
She snarled and charged.
An upward strike—flames spiraling around her arm.
The Swordsman blocked… and with a quick twist, shattered one of Kimberly's swords.
The metallic sound rang across the rooftop.
Kim staggered back, breathing hard.
"You son of a—"
The Swordsman didn't wait. He dashed forward, blades slicing through the air in perfect angles, each strike leaving behind trails of ethereal blue light.
Kim deflected with her remaining sword, the sound of steel ringing at impossible speed.
A cross strike hit her shoulder. Another sliced her thigh.
She stumbled.
The Swordsman raised his blade high—a storm of dozens of slashes unleashed in a blur. The blue energy expanded in waves, cutting through the air like blades of wind.
Kimberly was hit multiple times—cuts tearing through her coat, her skin, blood splattering onto the rooftop. She fell to her knees, gasping.
Karmila smiled in the background, admiring the spectacle.
"Magnificent…"
But then—Kimberly's body began to glow.
Her wounds closed rapidly, smoke rising from the seams of regenerating flesh.
She lifted her face, eyes burning with fierce resolve—and a taunting grin.
"My turn."
She slid her remaining sword onto her back.
Then spun, drawing two black pistols—runes glowing red along the sides.
"Rebirth and Nocturne," she whispered—their names.
The sound of gunfire split the air.
Kim moved like a storm—rolling, spinning, leaping. It was ballet and carnage all at once. Each shot echoed with supernatural precision, the enchanted bullets ricocheting off steel fragments to strike from impossible angles.
The Swordsman blocked skillfully, but a few bullets landed—a graze on his helmet, then one that scraped across his face.
A thin line of blood trickled down.
Kim smiled, panting.
"So… you bleed."
Her smile vanished when she saw the wound seal shut within seconds.
"What…?"
The Swordsman tilted his head.
"There is no pain. No death. Only duty."
Her pistols clicked empty—cartridges spent.
Kim growled, holstered them, and drew her last sword.
The fight resumed.
Faster this time.
More brutal. The clash of blades was deafening. Sparks exploded with every impact. Kimberly dodged, struck, retreated—each motion met by the Swordsman's flawless counter.
Every movement was a deadly choreography—fire versus steel, light versus shadow.
The Swordsman began to accelerate—his attacks so fast they left glowing trails of light.
Kim barely kept up, but she found openings—tiny mistakes, fractions of seconds.
She slid beneath a strike, slashed his flank, spun, and landed another hit.
Sparks and metallic blood scattered through the air.
Karmila watched, eyes gleaming with satisfaction.
"So beautiful… so tragic…"
The Swordsman leapt high, blade raised. Kimberly followed, jumping too—and midair, she twisted over him, her flaming sword tracing an arc through the sky in slow motion.
With a scream, she landed a direct hit across his face.
The impact was devastating.
The helmet flew off, spinning before hitting the ground with a hollow clang.
Kim landed on her back, sliding across the bloodstained rooftop, breathing heavily.
Her sword slipped from her hand.
She turned—then froze.
The Swordsman stood, face now revealed beneath the crimson moonlight.
A face she knew.
A face she loved.
A face she had mourned.
Silver hair. Eyes once blue, now glowing violet—yet the same faint mark around them.
Kimberly dropped her sword. The metallic clatter echoed into the night.
Karmila smiled, her voice almost tender.
"Ah… at last. The reunion of two halves."
Kim took a shaky step forward, voice trembling—caught between disbelief and grief.
"N–Nyra…"
Another step.
"You… you're not… dead?"
TO BE CONTINUED…