The breath of the wind roars with a deep, almost living sound—like something exhaling. Shimoru and Ryo stand amid the destruction, surrounded by snow and currents of air swirling around Ryo like a conscious creature.
Ryo's tone suddenly shifts into a low voice.
"I used to think anyone who called himself a hero… was a joke. But you?"
(He looks straight into Shimoru's eyes.)
"You're dangerous… a small danger, but a delightful one."
Shimoru steps forward, his rough voice scraping out.
"And you're nothing but a lunatic."
Ryo spreads both arms in opposite directions, his white aura gathering and tightening. A burst of wind erupts—splitting the ground, tearing through snow—rushing straight at Shimoru.
Shimoru focuses, slams his hand onto the ground, and a wall of ice erupts before him… but the attack shreds through it and slices his shoulder. Pain flashes through him, but he clamps down on the wound.
Ryo laughs wildly.
"Oh, what a beautiful sound—ice cracking! Is that the sound of defeat? Or the sound of truth?!"
Shimoru charges forward, eyes blazing with resolve.
"It's the sound of a promise… the promise that you'll be buried under the ice."
The battle spirals into a violent storm.
Shimoru forms a long ice spear and lunges.
But Ryo vanishes—only to reappear above, his foot smashing into Shimoru's shoulder, then kicking his chest and slamming him to the ground.
Shimoru thrusts his hand into the snow, forming a rising pillar of ice that propels him upward. His body twists mid-air as he swings in a circular motion, unleashing razor-sharp ice blades that shoot toward Ryo like thrown spears.
Ryo laughs, swiping his arm playfully.
"Beautiful, cold, deadly… like a girl rejecting you!"
He leaps back as condensed wind gathers behind him, knocking the blades aside. Then he forms semi-transparent wings of wind on his back, boosting his speed as he attacks Shimoru from every angle.
Shimoru halts for a second—closing his eyes.
Then he opens them… and a dark, cold-blue aura surges from him, freezing the ground beneath his feet to terrifying depth.
His voice comes out in a low murmur:
"Time's up… I'll shut you up by force."
He slams his sword into the ground—unleashing a massive spiral of ice swirling around him, slowing the winds surrounding Ryo.
Ryo's eyes widen; he clenches his hand, shaping a curved arc of air, pulling it back before firing a compressed wind arrow. It pierces the defense and cuts Shimoru's cheek.
Ryo grows both enraged and excited.
"You're slowing the wind?! Who the hell do you think you are?!"
Shimoru glares back with chilling resolve.
"The heir… does not just slow the wind. He breaks it."
Both of them charge—Shimoru with his ice blade, Ryo with his wind-wings and the sword strapped to his back inside a pouch. While rushing in, Ryo tosses the pouch aside.
Their collision triggers a massive explosion, splitting chunks of ice off the ground. Ice falls from above along with the rain.
Ryo grabs Shimoru from behind, lifting him into the air before slamming him downward.
But before hitting the ground, Shimoru freezes his own body, softening the impact. The ice shatters, and he reappears behind Ryo, thrusting his sword toward his back.
Ryo senses him at the last instant.
"You won't touch me that easily!"
He spins rapidly, releasing a circular gust of wind that hurls Shimoru violently backward. Shimoru crashes into a frozen tree, blood spilling from his mouth.
"Ghaa—"
Ryo descends calmly, running a hand through his hair.
"You know… all of this is fun. But there's a voice inside me telling me: Kill him."
(His eyes glow with madness.)
"My real voice."
Shimoru speaks with icy coldness.
"Playtime is over… now the real hell begins."
The atmosphere goes eerily still… no movement, no sound.
Shimoru stands at the center of a frozen wind vortex, his sword embedded in the ground, while Ryo starts using his winds and floats above as if he were the king of the sky—eyes full of madness… and the smile now gone.
"This cold… it's piercing my bones… wonderful."
(He bursts into laughter, spreading his arms as if challenging the entire world.)
"If you represent ice, then let me show you a tempest that melts it!"
Ryo raises his hand toward the sky as the clouds begin to twist violently.
A storm forms above him… dark gray winds descend in a massive column that devours everything in its path—trees ripped apart, the ground peeled open.
His eyes gleam with a blue-white glow, his body wrapped in a thin armor of concentrated wind.
Ryo (in a voice like rolling thunder):
"Ultimate Skill… King's Tempest — Tempest Overdrive, 30%!"
Shimoru slowly opens his eyes, and a surge of icy energy bursts from within him. But this time, it isn't wild… it's calm, dense, lethal.
The ice sword in his hand shatters, reforming into two shorter, faster frozen blades.
His sharp voice echoes across the ruined field:
"I won't let a madman shatter my ice."
He takes on a new battle stance, icy particles swirling around him like a frozen lotus.
The storm crashes toward him.
Shimoru leaps into it without hesitation, eyes focused, blades spinning around him like a vortex.
Inside the tempest, ice and wind create a spectacle beyond description—sparks, flashes, and icy detonations striking from every direction.
Ryo screams with manic rage:
"You'll die!! Inside my madness!!"
Shimoru snaps back with equal intensity:
"No… you'll freeze within my calm."
Trees are ripped from the ground, the earth splits apart.
Ryo charges at impossible speed, his arms turning into blades of compressed air slicing through everything in front of him.
Shimoru meets him head-on, each clash detonating into bursts of cold vapor and frenzied wind.
Strike after strike—blade against velocity, ice against storm—every motion carrying deadly intent.
In a brief moment of silence, Ryo stands at the edge of a cliff, his arm bleeding from a precise cut.
Shimoru kneels on one knee, breath ragged, his body marked with deep scratches.
Ryo licks the blood from his mouth, that twisted smile returning.
"Hah… I didn't expect to actually get hurt.
But you… you're fun."
Shimoru forces himself up, blood dripping from his nose.
"And I didn't expect the wind… to feel pain."
They move at the same instant, and this time the sound of impact is absent—only a flash of light and a thick mist swallowing the battlefield.
To be continued…