The dark terrain glowed faintly beneath the sky's violet hue. In the middle of the vast open plains, two figures stood in silence—opposite sides of a soon-to-be battlefield.
Tyrone rolled his shoulders, a smirk creeping across his face as his scythe rested lazily against his shoulder.
"Time for me to win this," he said with confidence, his voice carried by the wind.
Across from him, Kazimir stood with his usual stillness. No coat tonight. Only a sleeveless black bodysuit that shimmered faintly under the moonlight. His nodachi was absent—but in his hand crackled a spear of lightning, long and sharp, flickering with Imaginary Essence.
"You're hella confident," Kazimir replied flatly. "This better be worth the talk if you really think you're gonna beat me."
Tyrone laughed, planting his scythe into the dirt. "If I came in thinking I'd lose, then I already lost. Ain't that right?"
Kazimir nodded once. "Fair point."
Tyrone exhaled slowly. His body tensed. His aura shifted. The color drained from his hair as it turned a sleek obsidian black, his muscles bulking up, height expanding rapidly. A deep violet glow seeped from his skin, and a sigil pulsed on the side of his face. When he opened his eyes, they were a haunting, radiant purple. Feral. Hungry.
In moments, he towered over the field—nearly nine feet of raw, condensed force.
Kazimir spun the lightning spear, unfazed. "A bigger target. How pleasing." He tilted his head, eyes sharp. "What do you call this form?"
Tyrone grinned, sharp canines glinting. "Beast."
Kazimir raised an eyebrow. "Beast, huh? Then show me what it's capable of."
Tyrone dashed forward, the scythe twirling in his hand as the two clashed in a violent burst of sparks. The impact echoed across the plains. They pushed, neither budging—locked in tension. Then Kazimir smirked slightly and knocked Tyrone off-balance with a surge of force.
By the time Tyrone regained footing, Kazimir was already airborne.
"Above?!" Tyrone growled, looking up just in time to see the spear descend like a comet.
He dodged with a burst of momentum, and the spear struck the ground like a bolt of judgment, leaving a deep, steaming crater.
"Dude! It's a spear, not a broadsword!"
Kazimir landed with a whisper of wind behind him. "It's a polearm with a curved blade. You blind?"
Tyrone couldn't help but grin. "Alright, then. Let's go."
Kazimir pressed forward, spear lashing with brutal elegance. Each strike forced Tyrone back—step by step, breath by breath. Then—
An opening.
Tyrone twirled mid-step, his eyes catching a narrow blind spot in Kazimir's guard. "Got you!" he shouted, blade swinging in.
But Kazimir ducked and swept his leg low, knocking Tyrone off his feet with a calculated strike. The giant crashed to the ground, air bursting from his lungs. Before he could blink, Kazimir was standing above him, spear raised.
Tyrone used his foot to kick the shaft aside, forcing Kazimir to slide back.
"Smart," Kazimir said, nodding. "If this was a real fight, though—you'd be dead."
Tyrone used his scythe to push himself upright. "Shit…"
Kazimir pointed his spear at him, twirling it once. "Round two?"
Tyrone smirked and lifted his weapon. "Let's go."
—Meanwhile, Nearby…
The girls were just returning from the hot spring, robes loosely tied around them, their cheeks still pink from the heat. But the sound of clashing steel and thunderous energy caught their attention.
"What the hell?" Neve muttered.
They followed the sound—only to stop at the edge of the plains, seeing Tyrone and Kazimir mid-duel.
Lihanna's lips parted. "Are they… sparring?"
Jessie folded her arms. "More like trying to kill each other."
Gendai's eyes locked on the battlefield, focused, almost entranced.
Vanessa stood quietly at the edge, the moonlight reflecting off her pale skin. "So this is what strength forged in grief looks like…"
Tyrone ripped his coat off, revealing a sculpted torso, scarred and hardened from training. His chest heaved with effort.
Neve licked her lips playfully. "Well damn. Not often we get a front-row seat to this kinda show."
Jessie shot her a glare. "Keep your waterworks to yourself."
Lihanna said nothing—her gaze locked entirely on Tyrone, breath catching as his dark aura surged again.
Riah cupped her hands and yelled toward the field. "KAZ! TAKE YOURS OFF TOO!"
The whole group turned to her.
Kazimir didn't react much—he simply glanced over his shoulder.
Tyrone laughed. "Bro, your girl's watching. Better not disappoint."
Kazimir exhaled softly. "Guess I'm gonna have to put on a show."
Tyrone's aura exploded outward—black and violet flaring violently, creating a storm of pressure that shook the air and whipped everyone's hair back.
Kazimir stood steady, lightning dancing around his frame.
"…If you're holding back, now's the time to stop," Kazimir said.
Tyrone grinned, scythe spinning at his side. "I'm just getting started."
The tension spiked.
And beneath the glowing moon of Vrasnia, a storm of legends prepared to collide again.