The city clocktower loomed against the night sky.
Kael stood beneath it, gripping his sword.
A gust of cold air swept across the rooftop.
Erevan landed lightly behind him.
Kael didn't turn. "You want to test me."
Erevan nodded. "I need to know whether you are a threat worthy of killing now… or later."
Kael took a slow breath.
He knew he couldn't win outright—
But he had to survive.
They clashed.
Erevan moved like flowing wind—effortless, deadly, perfect.
Kael blocked, dodged, countered—
But Erevan was centuries beyond him.
One strike sent Kael crashing through a railing.
Blood filled his mouth.
Erevan approached casually.
"This isn't personal. Remove yourself, Kael. Let the Final World be shaped by someone who understands its burden."
Kael wiped his mouth. "You think only you deserve it?"
"Yes."
Erevan's eyes glowed. "I have lived more lives than any god. I have failed. I have succeeded. I have suffered every agony."
His aura erupted—crushing, divine.
"And that is why I will end the cycle."
Kael roared and slashed upward—
A perfect opening.
The blade cut Erevan's cheek.
Erevan froze.
Touched the blood.
Then smiled darkly.
"Good. You're worth killing later."
He vanished.
Kael collapsed to his knees.
He had survived.
Barely.
But Erevan had seen something he feared—
Kael was growing too quickly.
Which meant…
Erevan would strike again soon.
And next time?
He wouldn't hold back