The battlefield was quiet, the smoke curling from shattered stone and splintered wood like drifting ghosts.
Lira crouched on the cracked ground, her chest heaving, her limbs trembling from the strain of her previous attack. She had sent Shota soaring into the sky with a single, desperate punch—but that victory had been fleeting.
A sudden ripple of the air behind her made her freeze.
Kael and Prince Eldarin turned just in time to see a dark blur descending at impossible speed.
Shota.
His aura radiated arrogance so powerful it bent the very air. The ground beneath him cracked from the force of his descent. His grin stretched wider than ever, a predator savoring the fear in his prey.
"Did you think it would be that easy?" he said, voice like rolling thunder. "Did you think one punch would end me?"
Before Lira could even raise her fists, Shota swung his hand.
The Mythril gauntlets—crafted painstakingly at the Dwarven King's forge—were gone in an instant.
CRASH!
Metal screamed, bending and splintering under his power. Purple energy sputtered and faded, leaving nothing but shards scattered across the molten floor.
Lira staggered backward, feeling the weight of her now-bare fists, her body screaming in shock and pain.
"…Huh?" she muttered, disbelief flashing across her face.
Kael's eyes widened. His voice caught in his throat:
"…The gauntlets… gone…"
Prince Eldarin's chest heaved, pride faltering.
"…She still… she still has her fists!" he shouted, trying to rally confidence.
Shota hovered above her, the air vibrating with his presence.
"Look at you," he sneered, voice dripping with contempt. "Stripped of your toys, your little gifts, your flashy little toys from the dwarves. Do you still think you can beat me?"
Lira looked down at her hands. They were bare, calloused, and glowing faintly with the remnants of her purple energy.
A slow, deadly smile curved her lips.
"…Good," she said softly, voice low, dangerous. "…Fun… more fun."
Kael's jaw tightened. "…She's going to get herself killed."
Prince Eldarin, despite his bravado, took a cautious step back. "…Maybe I overestimated the usefulness of my sword…"
Shota tilted his head, amusement flickering across his sharp features. "…You still dare to smile?"
Purple energy began to pulse from Lira's fists, faint at first, then faster, stronger. It wasn't the gauntlets that gave her power. They had been aids, yes—but the true force came from within her: raw, chaotic, unimaginable strength that no weapon could contain.
The air trembled around her. Sparks danced across the shattered forge, dust rising in violent gusts.
Shota's grin faltered ever so slightly. "…Interesting…" he muttered. His confident stance shifted just a fraction.
Lira crouched slightly, fists glowing brighter, aura radiating like a storm ready to break. Every muscle in her body screamed, every bone felt ready to shatter, but she didn't care. She wasn't backing down.
Kael's mind raced. "…Even without the gauntlets… she's still a force of nature. There's nothing left to protect her. Nothing at all…"
Prince Eldarin's grip on his sword tightened, knuckles white. "…I-I can't fight him… but I can't leave her alone either…"
The tension crackled like lightning. The forge itself seemed to hold its breath.
Shota descended fully, landing with the force of a small mountain, cracks spider-webbing outward from his feet. He flexed, prepared to strike again.
Lira stood slowly, unyielding, bare fists glowing with a fierce purple light.
"…Come on," she said softly. "…Let's have fun."
Shota's eyes narrowed. Pride, fury, and something like fear—or was it respect?—glimmered within them.
"…This is going to be more difficult than I imagined," he muttered, circling her.
Even broken, even disarmed, Lira's presence radiated devastation.
The shards of the Mythril gauntlets glimmered faintly on the floor, remnants of what she had forged. Yet her fists alone carried the weight of mountains, the force to send generals into the sky, and the strength to challenge the very fabric of reality.
The forge trembled. Sparks flew. Dust and molten metal swirled like a storm.
And at that moment, the battle truly began.
To Be Continued…