Alice dashed forward, slicing through the air.
Fireballs closed in from every direction—she met them head-on.
Her sword danced, each swing tracing an arc of light that cut through the burning orbs, extinguishing them before they could touch her.
The wind roared, fire hissed, and ice cracked under her feet.
Yet, through it all, Alice advanced—step by step, closer to Velra.
Velra’s grin widened, excitement flashing in her crimson eyes.
"Yes... show me that will of yours, little warrior. Let me taste your resolve."
Alice lifted her blade, its aura flaring once more.
"I’m not the same girl you defeated before, Velra," Alice said, her voice low but steady.
For the first time, the vampire’s laughter faded—replaced by a faint, curious smile.
"Oh?" Velra tilted her head, crimson eyes glinting with amusement. "Then prove it."
Snow fell thicker now, swallowing sound and light until the world seemed to narrow to just the two of them—blade and spell, vengeance and pride.
Alice’s breath came out in quick bursts, fogging the air before her. Each exhale was heavy with mana, the strain already burning through her veins.
"Hah... hah..."
Despite the searing pain that crawled up her arm, the smell of singed leather, the raw sting of skin cooking beneath her gauntlet—it didn’t matter.
Because this time, she had closed the distance.
Her sword was within reach of Velra.
The vampire’s lips curled into that same mocking smile Alice remembered all too well. "So weary already? Have you forgotten that even at your best, you lost to me in close combat?"
Velra raised her hand lazily, as if swatting away a fly. "I suppose history enjoys repeating itself."
Whoosh!
Flames flared around her fingers, swirling up her arm like living fire. The heat was suffocating, the snow beneath her melting into steam.
Alice bit the inside of her cheek, tasting iron. Her sword trembled—not from fear, but from the intensity of her focus.
In most battles, a swordsman would dominate a mage in close quarters.
But Velra was no ordinary mage.
She was both spellcaster and predator, her reflexes sharper than any human, her strength bolstered by centuries of blood.
"Your sword may reach me," Velra said softly, "but your resolve... can it burn as bright as my flame?"
Alice didn’t answer. Words would only slow her down.
Instead, she tightened her grip and stepped forward—straight into the blaze.
The fire roared, engulfing her silhouette, but through the smoke, a flash of steel gleamed.
Velra’s eyes widened slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing her face.
The sword didn’t stop. It cut through flame, through illusion, through everything standing between her and the monster that haunted her memory.
This time, Alice’s strike didn’t falter.
The air split with a sharp clang as Velra blocked, sparks scattering between them.
Alice’s voice was steady, her eyes unflinching.
"I haven’t forgotten anything," she said, pressing forward. "That’s why I’ll win."
Velra’s smile returned—sharper now, more dangerous.
"Good," she whispered, pushing back with inhuman force. "Then I won’t hold back either."
And with that, the battlefield ignited—flame against steel, vengeance against immortality, each strike echoing like thunder through the falling snow.
The ground trembled beneath their feet as their clash reached a fever pitch.
Every impact sent shockwaves rippling through the frozen earth—flames bursting, ice shattering, and the air splitting between heat and frost.
Alice’s body screamed in protest, but her will refused to yield. Her sword traced streaks of light, each swing infused with divine energy that hissed when it met Velra’s infernal fire.
Velra, unfazed, moved like flowing shadow—graceful and terrible. Her crimson eyes glowed brighter, the fires responding to her heartbeat as though alive.
"You’ve improved, little warrior," Velra said, her tone lilting with genuine admiration. "Your power now... it’s almost intoxicating."
Alice said nothing. Her chest heaved, lungs burning from both exertion and smoke, but her gaze never wavered.
"Almost," Velra added, a cruel smirk curling across her lips, "but not enough."
Her form blurred.
A sharp crack followed—Velra’s knee driving into Alice’s ribs. The impact hurled her backward, the sound of shattering armor echoing through the cave mouth.
Alice hit the snow hard, rolling once before forcing herself to her knees. The world swayed, blood dripping from her lip.
"Lady Alice!" Bardic shouted from behind the encirclement, his sword drawn halfway from its scabbard.
"Don’t move!" Alice barked, her voice raw but resolute. "Do not interfere!"
Velra laughed, a sound both beautiful and cruel. "So proud even when you bleed. Tell me, how much longer will that pride keep you standing?"
Alice exhaled slowly, her trembling fingers tightening around the hilt of her sword.
She could feel it: the faint thrum of something breaking inside her, both body and spirit pushed to their limits.
But she couldn’t stop. Not yet.
"Until the end," she whispered, rising once more.
’My stamina and aura are almost gone...’
Alice’s breath came in shallow bursts, her shoulders trembling as she steadied her grip on the sword. The ground beneath her boots was scorched and uneven, a testament to the dozens of clashes that had already taken place.
’Now, there’s only one path left.’
She wasn’t like Julies—someone who could conjure brilliant strategies out of thin air.
All she could do was rely on what she had perfected through endless repetition—her strongest technique, honed until it became an instinct.
Across from her, Velra tilted her head slightly, her crimson eyes gleaming with faint amusement.
"I’m tired of this little game," she said, brushing a strand of silver hair from her face. "It’s time to finish this."
Alice tightened her stance. ’If she were really serious, she’d have stayed back and used magic. She’s still underestimating me.’
That arrogance—Velra’s greatest strength—was also her only flaw.
But Alice didn’t know that Velra’s indifference wasn’t carelessness.
’I’ll crush her completely,’ Velra thought, her expression darkening. ’Let that Faceless Imposter drown in disappointment when she fails again.’
This wasn’t just a fight. It was a calculated humiliation—a trap designed to break Alice’s spirit, to strip away the confidence she’d built since her last defeat.
Even if Alice had known that, she wouldn’t have stepped back. She would’ve chosen the same path, the same impossible battle.
Because retreat wasn’t in her nature.
Velra, watching Alice’s trembling arms as she continued to deflect her blows, let out a quiet laugh.
"You’ve improved," she admitted, her tone almost approving. "To think you’d grow this much in so little time... truly, the descendant of that ancient hero."
Alice said nothing, only exhaled, her eyes sharp, unyielding.
Velra smirked. "But that’s as far as you go."
She stepped forward, power gathering in her hand like liquid fire.
"Fine," she said, her voice soft but deadly. "I may not excel at hand-to-hand combat, but let’s see if you can withstand this."
For the first time in the battle, Velra decided to push herself beyond comfort.
A deep, resonant hum filled the air as she summoned power from within. The flames that wrapped around her arm roared, twisting and spiraling until they burned a deep crimson.
—Whoosh!
The snow under her feet melted instantly, the heat warping the air.
She could already feel the strain seeping into her body. This kind of power would take months to recover from—but it didn’t matter.
’With this... I can crush that cursed sword and the fool who wields it.’
Alice raised her blade again, sweat dripping down her temple, her aura flickering weakly.
Every instinct screamed at her to move, to evade. But she didn’t.
Instead, she smiled faintly.
Because even as Velra’s power reached its terrifying peak—
—so did hers.