Halric's breath came in sharp, controlled bursts as he circled Rodrick.
Frost clung to his greatsword like a second skin, crackling in the air.
The battlefield around them had grown quiet. Soldiers too afraid to draw near, too stunned to interrupt the clash of commanders.
Rodrick stood just meters away, surrounded by heat.
Flames licked the edge of his long blade. Dancing like wild serpents. His eyes glowed faintly with that same fire.
Hot, manic, and unblinking.
"You fight well," Rodrick said, his voice casual. Too casual. "For a dead man walking."
Halric didn't answer. No witty remarks. No threats.
He lunged.
His sword came down in a diagonal arc, ice trailing behind it like a pale comet. Rodrick stepped forward to meet it, his own blade raised.
CLANG!
The impact sent a shockwave outward. Fire and ice collided, steam hissing violently as pressure exploded between them.
Dirt blasted away at their feet. A nearby soldier was knocked flat just from the force.
