The battlefield, once a cacophony of death and destruction, had gone silent. The scent of scorched earth still hung thick in the air, and the moans of the injured echoed as healing Wielders worked tirelessly to stabilize the wounded. Pyres were lit for the fallen, and 500 names were already being whispered with reverence.
Kael stood at the edge of the ruined cliffside, his cloak torn, his body aching, but his spirit unbroken. Kaito stood beside him, gazing out over the land they had helped save.
"You've grown strong," Kaito said quietly, his voice low but steady. "Stronger than I expected."
Kael looked at him, sweat and blood streaking his face. "You're not bad yourself… for a traitor who redeemed himself at the last second."
Kaito smirked. "I'm not done proving myself yet."
He stepped forward, turning to face his little brother fully. "One last thing, Kael. Not as enemies. Not as rivals. As brothers."
Everyone nearby—Hana, Ryuu, Tetsu, Kaede, Raizen, even Magnus and Seraphine—looked over.
"I want to fight you," Kaito said, loud enough for the others to hear. "Right here. After everything. No death, no hate—just to see which of us is stronger now."
The area fell silent.
"You're kidding," Tetsu said.
"You just survived a war," Hana murmured. "And now you want to fight?"
Kael's eyes narrowed. He looked at his brother, his rival, his blood. He thought about the journey. The battles. The pain. The power.
He nodded.
"Yeah," Kael said. "Let's do it."
Kaito smiled. "One hour. We rest. Then we fight."
Ryuu shook his head in disbelief. "These two are built different."
Kaede gave a rare smirk. "It must run in the family."
Raizen, arms crossed, watched with silent interest. He could feel something deeper. This wasn't just a spar. This was about legacy. Healing. Brotherhood. Closure.
The makeshift battlefield was cleared. A circle was drawn by the Wielders who remained. The sun began to dip over the horizon, casting gold over the ruins.
An hour passed.
Kael stepped into the center, tightening his gloves. Kaito stood across from him, flames already dancing on his fingertips.
No hatred. No vengeance.
Just two brothers… ready to clash one final time—not to hurt, but to understand.
The sky rumbled as their Wills ignited.
And the second battle of the brothers began.