The ruins trembled under the roar of the storm. Rain pummeled the shattered walls, streams of water cascading down broken arches, carving rivulets through centuries-old stone. Lightning split the sky, illuminating three figures standing in the center of the hall — the Blade of Silence, poised like a predator; Master Ardyn, calm yet radiating raw, unrelenting power; and the ruined pillars and shattered floor that marked the arena of their confrontation.
Ardyn stepped forward, cloak whipping in the wind, eyes glowing with violet fire. His voice cut through the storm.
"This ends now. Not with chains, not with orders."
The Blade of Silence tilted his helm, the violet and blue runes along his sword glowing faintly, humming like restrained thunder.
"You are bold, Ardyn. Bold enough to walk into my storm."
Lightning danced along Ardyn's gauntlets, arcs of power singing as they crackled into the air. Without warning, he lunged, feet sliding across the wet stone, and slammed a punch into the ground. The impact radiated outward, shattering columns, sending stone fragments flying.
The Blade of Silence moved as if anticipating the strike before it happened. He leapt back, landing softly, blade extended in a defensive arc. Sparks erupted where the sword struck the cascading lightning, each parry resonating like the clash of worlds.
Kael groaned weakly from the corner, blood streaked across his cheek, his dagger clutched limply. Elara lay nearby, unconscious, her magic flickering out, her fingers curled into the stone floor. Neither could intervene — the fight was beyond anything they had trained for.
Ardyn's eyes locked on the Blade. With a swift motion, he drew his sword, a conductor of lightning, and slashed in a horizontal sweep. The air burned, wind howling with electric force. The Blade countered with his own runed weapon, steel meeting steel, the collision sending shockwaves through the ruins. Dust and rain mixed with sparks, and for a moment, the world seemed suspended in chaos.
Ardyn grinned faintly. "You rely too much on speed and fear."
The Blade's voice was low, steady. "And you rely too much on power. Let's see whose will bends first."
They clashed again, moving with impossible speed. Ardyn struck with precision, lightning crackling along his blade like a living river. Each swing shredded the air, cutting deep gouges in the stone floors. The Blade responded in kind, moving fluidly, each strike producing a resonating hum as the runes absorbed and deflected energy. The hall shook with every collision.
Kael tried to rise, groaning in pain, his fingers dragging along the wet floor. Elara's chest rose and fell shallowly. Both were far too weak to act, but their eyes, barely open, watched every motion — the dance of lightning and steel, unstoppable power against unstoppable precision.
Ardyn vaulted into the air, sending a volley of electrified strikes toward the Blade. Each bolt split like multiple jagged fingers, striking the ground around him, carving channels in the wet stone. The Blade rolled under one arc, sweeping the other strikes aside, and countered with a spinning slash that could have cut a tree in half.
Ardyn's feet barely touched the ground as he twirled backward, avoiding the lethal strike. Then, with a roar, he slammed both palms to the floor, summoning a sphere of storm energy. The air inside trembled, tearing at the walls, a force field of pure electricity expanding outward. The Blade was knocked back, spinning in the air, but managed to recover, slashing a downward arc that split the energy sphere and dissipated part of the storm.
The fight dragged on, seconds stretching into minutes. Rain poured, lightning illuminated the scene with blinding flashes, and the two masters moved like natural disasters made flesh — one precision incarnate, the other unbridled elemental fury.
Ardyn's strikes became faster, more lethal. Each movement carved arcs of lightning in the air, tracing his path like a spectral storm. The Blade parried and struck, deflecting massive energy bursts, sending shockwaves outward. Stone columns shattered into dust, ancient glyphs crumbled, and torrents of water were blasted aside with every exchange.
Kael felt his chest tighten. The very air seemed to vibrate with raw power. He tried to drag himself toward Elara, but his body refused, muscles refusing to respond. Magic from her still lingered faintly in the air, a soft glow that barely flickered in the deluge.
Ardyn vaulted again, slashing downward in a blinding flash. The Blade rolled aside, then countered with a strike so fast it left a streak of violet light in the storm. Ardyn parried with his gauntleted arm, sparks cascading off the impact, his grin widening. "Good. I want every ounce of your skill."
The Blade's movements slowed just slightly. There was hesitation — a flicker of uncertainty, almost imperceptible beneath the mask of inevitability. Ardyn noticed, eyes narrowing. He unleashed a massive strike, a concentrated lightning surge that slammed into the Blade's chest. The force threw him into a wall, carving a groove across centuries-old stone.
Yet the Blade recovered, leaping back, and with a whispered incantation, the runes on his blade flared violently. A wave of purple energy radiated outward, throwing Ardyn off balance for a heartbeat.
The two locked eyes across the ruined hall, panting, drenched, battered. Each knew the other would not yield.
Kael tried to speak, but a wave of dizziness hit him. He collapsed, face-first into the stone. Elara's lips twitched faintly, but she remained unconscious. Both children were casualties of the storm of power between the two masters.
Ardyn gritted his teeth, summoning yet another burst of lightning. Bolts raked across the hall, tearing chunks from the walls, gouging new lines into the floor. The Blade met each strike, moving fluidly, his runes glowing brighter with each clash. Every parry produced thunder, every counter sent shards of energy ricocheting through the ruins.
Kael's eyes fluttered, barely tracking the movements — lightning arcs illuminated the Blade's armor and Ardyn's gauntlets in alternating pulses of violet and blue. The storm inside the hall was almost tangible, oppressive, filled with the raw force of their unleashed powers.
For a final moment, they paused, standing in the center of the ruin — Ardyn's sword crackling, Blade of Silence's runes glowing. The storm above raged in synchrony, as if the sky itself watched.
Then — a sound that cut through the chaos.
Heavy boots on wet stone. Orders shouted. The unmistakable authority of the Raven Division.
The two masters froze, tension slicing the air. A small contingent of masked soldiers appeared, standing at the entrances, weapons raised.
"My lord Ardyn!" one shouted over the storm. "This is folly! You cannot fight him here! Remember what happened before! The cost — the casualties!"
Ardyn's eyes swept to them. Violet lightning dancing along his arms, face set in absolute calm. "I am aware of the cost. This time, I do not rely on someone else to protect them. I am here. I will not fail as before."
The Blade of Silence lowered his weapon slightly, a low hum echoing from the runes. "I see… you've changed. So have I."
The Raven commander hesitated. "Master, they — he — the consequences — do you remember what happened last time?"
Ardyn's gaze sharpened, fixed on the Blade. "Yes. That time, others decided. This time, I decide."
Thunder rolled overhead. The soldiers flinched, knowing the words were not empty.
The Blade's hum slowed. He did not strike again. Ardyn did not advance. The ruins were silent except for the storm, rain hammering down and lightning illuminating the shattered battleground.
Kael groaned faintly, blood streaked and wet with rain, but unconscious. Elara's breathing was shallow but steady. Both lay unmoving, victims of the titanic clash of powers above them.
The Raven Division could only watch, caught between fear and awe, as the two masters stared at one another — a stalemate of unmatched skill, lightning, and silence.
The storm held its breath.
And then, with a final glance at the unmoving children, Ardyn spoke softly — a promise more than an order.
"This is not over."
The Blade of Silence lowered his sword fully, backing into the shadows, runes dimming. "No. It is not."
The Raven Division hesitated, knowing they were witnessing forces beyond comprehension. Orders would be given later, but for now, nothing moved except rain, lightning, and the echoes of a battle unfinished.
The ruins were quiet, save for the storm, and for the first time in decades, the two masters acknowledged the other's power — and the inevitable reckoning yet to come.