The battlefield lay silent beneath the suffocating glow of the Black Moon, its eerie light illuminating the ruins that had once been a proud bastion of celestial might. A thick, unnatural fog hung in the air—black, oppressive, and impossibly cold. There was no sound save the occasional rasp of breath, the soft scrape of armor against stone, and the distant crackling of shattered divine energies.
Selene stood motionless, her violet rapier raised, her eyes locked on the towering figure of Kael. Every muscle in her body was taut, her senses stretched to their absolute limit. She had known the moment she stepped into this battle that she was playing with fire—yet here she was, facing the most dangerous being she had ever encountered.
Kael's crimson eyes gleamed with unrestrained amusement, as if he had all the time in the world to savor the moments of this deadly dance.
"Selene, Commander of the Veiled Order," he murmured, his voice smooth like silk. "I've heard whispers about you. A woman with skill unmatched, but with a will as fragile as glass."
Selene didn't flinch. She had heard the rumors about Kael—how he was a master strategist, a creature who bent worlds to his will, a being whose very existence defied the laws of nature itself. But she had come this far not to run in fear, but to face him.
Her voice was calm, steady. "Then you should know I don't bow to anyone—not even to you."
Kael chuckled, the sound dark and rich. "No, I suppose you don't. But you will."
Without warning, he vanished.
Instinct screamed at her. She spun, her eyes catching the glint of his sword out of the corner of her vision. His blade missed her throat by a hairsbreadth. The sheer force of the strike sent a shockwave through the air, and sparks flew as their weapons collided. The force of the impact vibrated through her arm, but she held her ground, her rapier steady in her grip.
Kael reappeared behind her, his movements fluid, like liquid shadow.
"You're fast," he said, almost bored. "But even the swiftest prey can be caught."
He struck again, this time aiming low. Selene danced back, narrowly avoiding the slash that would have cleaved through her side. The moment her foot hit the ground, she pivoted, bringing her rapier up to meet his incoming blow.
The two blades collided with a resounding clash, and the force of the impact rattled her bones. Her breath quickened as she realized the extent of the power she was up against. Kael wasn't merely fast. He was a force of nature—each strike was like an avalanche, unstoppable, crushing.
Their duel continued, a blur of motion and steel. Selene's mind was sharp, calculating each move, reading Kael's body language as he shifted his weight, as he feinted, and as he adapted to her style.
Kael's strikes were flawless—precise, calculated, and without hesitation. He moved as though he had already seen the future, anticipating her every move before she made it. Yet, even in the face of his overwhelming power, Selene refused to falter. She was a soldier of the Veiled Order, trained to adapt, to survive, to overcome the impossible.
Her footwork was impeccable, honed through years of training. She sidestepped, ducked under his sword, and countered with a thrust aimed directly at his ribs. The strike was swift and precise, the tip of her rapier aimed at the gap between his armor. But Kael simply deflected it with ease, his sword meeting hers with a brutal force that sent shockwaves down her arm.
"Not bad," Kael said, his lips curling into a dark smile. "But you're still too slow."
Before she could react, Kael vanished again.
Her breath hitched. She had known this moment would come. His speed was unlike anything she had ever encountered.
The next instant, Kael reappeared behind her. She barely had time to raise her rapier when a cold blade pressed against the back of her neck.
She froze, her heartbeat pounding in her ears.
Damn it.
She spun, moving with everything she had, her rapier raised in a desperate arc. Kael's sword clashed against hers once more, the shock of the impact throwing her off balance. The edge of his blade grazed her cheek, drawing blood. She didn't care. She had already calculated her next move.
But Kael was gone again.
This time, Selene didn't wait. She didn't try to follow him.
Instead, she lowered her blade.
Kael appeared once more, his gaze sharp as he observed her sudden change in stance. "Giving up already?"
Selene's lips twisted into a smirk. "Not quite."
She snapped her fingers.
The battlefield erupted.
A thick mist, dark violet and swirling with arcane power, billowed out from beneath her cloak, engulfing the entire area. It twisted around her like a living thing, feeding on the shadows of the battlefield and expanding like a storm. The mist was no ordinary smoke—it was a creation of Selene's, a weapon born of forbidden magic, designed to confuse and disorient.
Kael's eyes narrowed as the world around him shifted, his vision blurred by the mist. His senses, honed through centuries of combat, were momentarily dulled.
Selene was already moving.
She didn't retreat. She didn't wait for Kael to strike first.
She moved toward him.
Her movements were swift, fluid—an extension of the darkness itself. She struck without hesitation, her rapier cutting through the air with deadly intent. Her blade found its mark.
SLASH!
A sharp cry of pain echoed through the mist.
Kael stumbled back, momentarily disoriented. His hand instinctively moved to his shoulder, where the cut had left a shallow gash, the blood glowing faintly in the dim moonlight.
Selene's breath quickened, but she didn't stop. She had one goal, one chance to escape this nightmare.
She darted toward Gabriel.
He was still lying there, his golden armor shattered, his body unmoving. The sight of him—his once-pristine armor now tarnished and broken—made something cold stir within her. Gabriel was a hero. A saint, they called him. And he was bleeding out on the ground because of her mistake.
But she couldn't save him if she didn't act.
With a quick, decisive motion, Selene dropped to one knee beside him, wrapping her arms around his unconscious form. The weight of his body was heavy, but she didn't hesitate. She lifted him with ease, drawing from every ounce of strength she had left.
Kael had let her do this. He watched with a twisted amusement as she struggled to carry Gabriel's broken body away from the battlefield.
"You think you've won, don't you?" Kael called, his voice cutting through the mist.
Selene didn't answer. She couldn't afford to.
With each step, the mist thickened, the world becoming more distorted. The shadows seemed to close in around her, and yet, she could still feel Kael's gaze—hot, burning—pressing into her back.
She moved faster.
Kael watched her retreat, his expression unreadable. His fingers grazed the wound on his shoulder, where Selene's rapier had drawn blood. The pain was minimal—barely a sting compared to what he had endured in his endless war. But the fact that she had marked him, however slightly, stirred something in him. Intrigue. It was rare that anyone—mortal or otherwise—could land a blow on him.
He smirked.
"She marked me," he whispered to himself, the words tasting sweet. "Interesting."
With a casual motion, Kael turned away from the mist, allowing it to swirl around him like a veil. He had no need to chase her. Not yet.
The game had changed.
Selene had won this round. But there wouldn't be a second.
She could run, but she could not hide forever. He would hunt her down. And when he did, she would learn what it truly meant to face him.
As the mist slowly began to fade into the night, Kael stood alone, his eyes searching the battlefield for any trace of the woman who had dared to challenge him.
The Black Moon continued its ascent, casting an otherworldly glow across the ruins. The night was still young.
And soon, the real hunt would begin.
To be continued...