Steel met shadow.
The moment Alice’s sword sliced through the air, a shockwave rippled across the frozen field, scattering snow like shards of glass. Velra didn’t dodge—she merely raised a hand, and the attack shattered against her palm with a metallic clang, as if the air itself had turned to iron.
"That’s better," Velra purred, her crimson eyes gleaming. "At least now you’re not trembling."
Alice’s boots sank slightly into the snow as she steadied her stance. "Don’t get used to blocking that easily," she said, forcing her breathing into rhythm. "That was just a greeting."
"Oh?" Velra smiled, baring her fangs. "Then allow me to respond in kind."
A pulse of dark mana erupted from her body, the ground trembling as black mist coiled around her like living smoke. The temperature dropped sharply, frost forming even over armor.
The soldiers in the distance struggled to hold formation.
"Damn it—she’s releasing her aura!"
"Stand firm! Protect Lady Alice’s position!"
But the clash between the two women had already left them behind.
Velra vanished in a blur.
Alice barely caught the motion—a whisper of shadow—before Velra reappeared right in front of her, palm extended.
Boom!
A blast of condensed mana exploded outward, sending Alice sliding backward through the snow, boots carving deep furrows in the ground. She gritted her teeth, the taste of blood faint on her tongue, but her stance didn’t break.
"Hm. You can still stand?" Velra mused, lowering her hand. "Impressive. The last opponent of mine sent couldn’t even remain conscious after that."
"Good for him," Alice said, raising her sword again. "But I don’t plan on ending like he did."
....And then she dashed towards Velra again.
Faster then before.
—Clang!
The clash of steel and claw split the air like thunder. Sparks scattered across the snow, burning briefly before vanishing into the wind.
Alice’s blade met Velra’s bare hand, the impact heavy enough to shake the ground beneath their feet.
Velra’s lips curled into a delighted smile. "Oh... this is new."
Her long, pale fingers pressed against the flat of Alice’s sword, halting the strike completely.
"Stronger than before," Velra mused, twisting her wrist. The blade shuddered, groaning under the pressure. "Your mana’s sharper too... but still unrefined."
Alice gritted her teeth, forcing her sword free and pushing back. "I’m not here to impress you!"
She swung again, faster this time, her blade flashing through the storm in a flurry of strikes. Velra dodged each one effortlessly—her movements smooth, almost graceful, as if she were dancing rather than fighting.
"Not bad," Velra said, sidestepping another slash. "But tell me, little warrior, do you even know what you’re swinging for?"
Alice didn’t answer. Her breath was sharp, controlled, her focus absolute. Each movement, each step, was measured—trained.
Velra’s crimson eyes glowed brighter. "You remind me of your ancestor. The same fire, the same foolish pride."
Then she moved.
One heartbeat, and she was gone.
The next—
—Crash!
Alice barely managed to block the blow that came from above. The impact sent her flying backward, her boots carving deep tracks through the snow.
"Lady Alice!" Sir Bardic shouted, but she raised a hand before he could move.
"Stay back," she commanded, her voice steady despite the tremor in her arm. "This is my fight."
Velra’s laughter echoed through the battlefield—cold, echoing, and beautiful.
"How noble of you," the vampire said, brushing imaginary dust from her dress. "To bleed for your honor. But honor doesn’t stop a claw from piercing your heart."
Alice steadied her breath, her sword tip lowering slightly before she raised it again—this time with both hands.
"Honor isn’t what drives me," she said quietly.
Velra tilted her head. "Oh? Then what does?"
Alice’s gaze hardened, her voice slicing through the night like frost.
"Regret."
Velra’s crimson eyes narrowed, a faint glimmer of irritation breaking her composed smile.
"Is that so?" she murmured, raising her hand lazily. "Then come on—show me your true strength."
Mana flared around her fingertips, coiling like living flame.
—Groan...!
The ground trembled. Jagged spikes of stone burst upward, while pillars of fire roared from the air above. The battlefield lit up in crimson and orange hues as Velra unleashed a barrage of mixed-elemental magic.
"Ugh—!" Alice hissed, twisting aside. A stream of flame grazed her arm, singing her sleeve.
Velra’s voice echoed through the storm, rich with amusement.
"You seem to have forgotten," she said, spreading her arms wide, "that I am not merely a vampire... but a mage. What’s wrong? Why not come closer?"
The taunt struck deeper than the heat of the flames.
Alice tightened her grip on her sword, eyes darting across the chaos. Spikes erupted, ice formed and shattered, the air itself screaming from the clash of opposing elements.
In a battle between a swordsman and a mage, the rule was simple: close the distance.
Fail to do so, and the swordsman becomes nothing more than a moving target.
’Think, Alice,’ she told herself, deflecting a shard of fire with a desperate swing. ’You can’t win playing by her rules.’
Each movement was sharp, efficient—born from years of drilling, sweat, and failure. But Velra’s attacks came faster, layered, unpredictable.
Still, Alice didn’t falter.
’I admit it... she’s a monster. Stronger than anything I’ve faced.’
Her boots skidded on the icy floor as she ducked under a blast of wind magic, her heartbeat thundering in her ears.
’But even if she’s stronger... strength alone doesn’t decide a fight.’
Her thoughts flickered to someone else.
Her squire—no, her teacher in disguise. The one who’d told her that even the weakest blade could slay a giant if wielded with the right intent.
A grin tugged at her lips.
"Right," she whispered. "I remember."
—Rumble!
Her sword shifted, aura flaring. The weapon’s edge expanded, reshaping into a greatsword shimmering with golden light.
With a roar, she swung it down.
The impact shattered the field of ice spikes, exploding them into shards that glittered like glass in the firelight.
Velra’s eyes widened slightly, her smirk returning. "Oh...? That’s more like it."
Blood trickled down Alice’s cheek where a shard had grazed her, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t.
Every cut, every scrape, was a price she was willing to pay.
Because she could still move forward.
—Swish!
The greatsword dissolved, transforming into a slender, curved blade from the East—a Hwando. Its aura shimmered faintly blue as she moved.