"You came alone."
Zareth's voice echoed across the hollowed battlefield…an ancient temple long buried in ash and forgotten screams.
Haelyn didn't blink. "You're not worth company."
He stepped down the crumbled stairs slowly, every motion deliberate. "You never learned when to quit, did you?"
She drew her blade.
Steel howled as it left its sheath. "You never learned when to shut up."
Zareth chuckled. "There she is."
His hands glowed black.
Her eyes stayed cold.
No Keres.
Just rage.
Just legacy.
Just Haelyn.
"Let's finish what we started," she growled.
Zareth moved first…fast, no warning.
A shadow blade slammed into the ground where she'd stood a second ago. Haelyn rolled, flipped, and struck upward. Her sword nicked his ribs, but he spun, kicking her into a broken column.
"Still sharp," he hissed.
Haelyn wiped blood from her lip. "Still slow."
She surged forward.
Steel met shadows. Sparks lit the air.
