Their collision shattered the sound barrier. David and Winter became streaks of silver and void, their exchange of blows so rapid that reality struggled to keep pace.
Each clash of shadow daggers against void sword created ripples in space itself, the shockwaves pulverizing nearby stone to dust.
Kaelith, hovering above, found his divine senses struggling to track their movements. One moment they were trading blows in the center of the chamber, the next they'd appear at the far wall, leaving only afterimages in their wake.
Perhaps, he mused, watching David match a god blow for blow, this human is worthy of being called master after all.
Winter fought like a creature of pure instinct, corruption twisting his divine grace into bestial fury.
His void-wreathed sword carved patterns of destruction through the air, each strike carrying enough force to shatter mountains.
The blade's edge left trails of absolute darkness, attempting to devour everything in its path.
