Legacy's Wake

Shanya rested her broadsword on her shoulder, standing firm on the rippling water, her feet planted as she locked eyes with Trice. His mask shifted slightly, prompting a quick adjustment.

"What's wrong, punk? Can't keep up? Don't act all tough if you're not gonna do anythin'." Shanya taunted, tightening her grip on the sword as she leaned forward. "Gotta admit, you're pretty good in close combat. Nimble, but predictable." She smirked, studying Trice as he expertly manipulated his spear, flipping it around his body before catching it upside down and spinning it to ready the point.

"Underestimating your opponent in a duel is a foolish mistake," Trice said, grasping his spear with both hands, holding it horizontally before his chest. He traced his fingers along its length, his movements slow but deliberate. "Getting ahead of yourself only leads to disaster." As he spoke, magnetic energy began to hum around the weapon, vibrating with intensity.

"If that's how it is, then bring it on! Those attacks gotta break their limits eventually." Shanya crouched low on the water, one hand pressing against the surface as she spread her legs wide. Her sword rose above her shoulders, ready for the next move. "Let's play catch then." With a sudden burst of speed, Shanya lunged toward Trice, swinging her broadsword behind her as she closed in with powerful strides.

As Shanya closed the distance, Trice's eyes flashed with a quick calculation. He didn't back down, instead, he pivoted to the side, his body fluidly moving with the water beneath him. His spear, glowing faintly with magnetic energy, shifted in his grip, angled low to block her incoming attack.

With a sharp twist of his torso, Trice sidestepped Shanya's sweeping strike, his feet barely touching the water as he moved almost effortlessly. The tip of her broadsword cut through the air where he had just been, missing him by inches. He was fast—too fast for Shanya to get a clean hit.

Before she could recover, he moved in, his spear lashing out in a quick jab aimed at her midsection. The point of the spear wasn't meant to pierce—Trice's magnet-based powers were more about precision and disorientation. The spear cut through the air with a faint hum, its trajectory flawless. But Shanya wasn't caught off guard. She twisted her torso, deflecting the spear's shaft with the flat of her blade, sending it skidding sideways through the water with a sharp clang.

She wasn't done yet. Using the momentum of the deflection, she spun her body, raising her broadsword above her head in a powerful overhead strike. Her crimson and black flames danced along the edge of her blade, enhancing the blow with an infernal energy. She aimed directly for Trice's head, hoping to land a decisive strike.

But Trice wasn't fazed. He bent his knees, low to the water's surface, and with an explosive push from his legs, he darted backward in a serpentine motion, narrowly avoiding the fiery swing. The water beneath his feet rippled and parted as he moved, his feet hardly disturbing the surface.

As Shanya's blade crashed into the water with a hiss, Trice's magnetic powers surged. He flicked his wrist, sending his spear flying in a rapid spin. It moved with the grace of a spinning top, its tip aimed at Shanya's exposed flank as she recovered from the missed strike. The spear seemed to hover with unnatural speed, drawing closer by the second.

But Shanya wasn't unprepared. She swung her gauntleted arm forward, intercepting the spear mid-flight. The gauntlet—crafted with reinforced metal—collided with the spear's shaft, deflecting it to the side with a metallic screech. The force of the impact sent a shockwave through her arm, but she pushed through it, pivoting on her feet with a grunt.

She was getting closer now. Shanya gritted her teeth, eyes blazing as she charged, her flames surging with renewed fury. "You're unique, I'll give ya that," she muttered, the fire in her blood burning hotter, "but I'm just gettin' started."

With a powerful lunge, she swung her broadsword again, this time with the intent to overwhelm. Her strike was swift, aimed not at Trice directly, but at the water beneath him. She slashed the surface with a fierce diagonal cut, sending a wave of decaying flames toward Trice. The flames spread across the water, creating a barrier of scorched heat between them, forcing Trice to either counter or retreat.

Trice's magnetic abilities flared once more. With a quick motion, he summoned the spear back into his grip, but instead of a direct counter, he made use of his agility. The moment the wave of fire neared him, he dashed sideways, using his magnetism to pull his body in the opposite direction. He leapt, his body twisting midair with the ease of someone who had spent years honing their flexibility, and landed on a nearby stone outcrop in the water, briefly resting his feet on it before pushing off and spinning toward Shanya with an evasive roll.

In the blink of an eye, he was on his feet again, spear raised, but this time he moved even faster, his attack like a blur as he aimed for her side. His movements were calculated—precise, but his attacks were not meant to crush. They were meant to wear her down. The spear whistled through the air again, narrowly missing as Shanya swerved out of the way, her flames crackling against the cool air.

Shanya's eyes burned with determination as she closed the gap between herself and Trice, her broadsword a blur of decaying crimson flames. She wasn't holding back anymore. Each swing was a hammering blow, relentless and forceful, meant to overwhelm him before he could react. The flames on her blade flared with each swing, filling the air with the stench of burning metal and singeing water.

With a deep growl, Shanya surged forward, her broadsword coming down in a powerful arc aimed directly at Trice's shoulder. The strike was so forceful it created a shockwave in the water, sending ripples in every direction. Trice, despite his incredible agility, barely had time to react. He barely deflected the blow with his spear, but the force of the strike sent him stumbling back, his feet barely maintaining their grip on the water's surface.

But before Trice could fully recover, Shanya was upon him again. She spun, her flames flickering brighter as she launched another strike—this time horizontal, aiming to slice him across the chest. Trice's reflexes were sharp, but the sheer force of her strikes was beginning to push him back, his feet skimming over the water with little traction. The clang of metal on metal reverberated through the air as he deflected the blow with his spear, but the impact pushed him further off-balance, his breathing becoming heavier as the pressure mounted.

Trice's hands trembled slightly as he steadied his grip on the spear, using its shaft to keep himself upright. He was still nimble, but his movements were starting to feel more forced, less fluid. Shanya didn't give him a moment's peace. Her next attack came fast—a vicious diagonal slash aimed at his legs. Trice responded by swinging his spear sideways to intercept it, but the strength behind Shanya's blow knocked his spear off-course. The force of the strike sent him stumbling, his feet slipping on the water's surface as he tried to regain his balance.

"Not fast enough!" Shanya barked, grinning through her gritted teeth. She pivoted, swinging the broadsword once more, this time vertically, aiming for his head.

Trice's breath quickened. With barely a moment to think, he hopped backward, springing off the water with an almost unnatural agility. But instead of landing on solid ground, he used his spear like a platform—extending it below his feet, magnetizing it to the water's surface just enough to allow him to kick off and leap backward with impressive speed.

Shanya's broadsword slashed through the air, cutting through the water where Trice had been a moment ago. Her flames fizzled against the wetness of the surface, but she immediately twisted her body, eyes locked on Trice's next move. He was fast, but he was starting to show signs of strain.

She didn't give him the chance to catch his breath. She charged again, moving like a storm, her broadsword dancing in her hands as she aimed consecutive strikes at him. She swung low, high, and from the sides in a relentless series of attacks. Trice was barely keeping up now, the spear flashing in front of him, metal clanging against metal as he attempted to block or redirect her blows.

Each clash sent shockwaves through the water, his feet slipping as the friction from his spear against the water's surface created a constant resistance. He tried to maintain his footing, but each deflection made him stumble further back, the speed of Shanya's strikes never letting up. His spear became an extension of his body, not just a weapon, but a tool to survive. He used it to block, to parry, and to give himself space, but Shanya's fiery attacks forced him to retreat.

With a grunt, Trice used his spear once more to leap backward—his body twisting midair as he landed several feet away. He was panting now, his movements no longer as fluid as they had been. Shanya, undeterred, took a few steps forward, her flames flickering fiercely around her blade as she pursued him relentlessly.

"You're gettin' slow, punk," Shanya taunted, her voice filled with intensity. "Don't tell me that's all you've got!"

Trice's grip tightened on his spear. Sweat dripped down his face, and the magnetic aura around his weapon hummed with barely-contained energy. He was still moving, still fighting, but it was becoming clear that Shanya's relentless assault was beginning to overwhelm him. He knew he couldn't keep this up for much longer. He needed to find an opening—he needed to counter.

As Shanya's next attack came crashing toward him—a low sweep of her blade—Trice had no choice but to leap off his spear, propelling himself forward in a desperate roll to the side. But his foot slipped in the water, his body slamming into the surface with a splash. He scrambled to his feet, but Shanya was already upon him, her broadsword raised high.

With no more room to retreat, Trice's body tensed, ready to either fight or risk being overwhelmed by the sheer force of her assault.

To be continued...