The world was still falling when they advanced.
There was no whole ground anymore — only broken plates, moving mud, and twisted metal trying to decide where ground still was.
Zeph let the air out.
Not like a sigh.
Like a discharge.
The space between them crackled.
The rain changed direction mid-fall.
The wind did not come as a gust.
It came as organization.
Lines of pressure formed around Zeph like tilted rings, each spinning in a different direction, crossing the space between them at angles that allowed no direct reading.
Telvaris advanced.
Iron rose.
Not like a wall.
Like mobile plates interposing themselves in the path of each line, adjusting at the exact moment of impact.
The first blade of wind tore fragments from the metallic surface.
The second was deflected.
The third pushed Telvaris half a step back.
The mud gave under the recoil.
Telvaris drove the iron into the ground.
Metallic roots spread across the unstable surface, creating an artificial map of support.
He advanced inside it.
Zeph changed the pattern.
The wind dropped.
No longer in lines.
In pulses.
Short waves that struck the ground before reaching Telvaris, lifting mud, stones, and fragments that came with them, disrupting vision and reading.
Telvaris swung his arm.
The iron opened in an arc.
Not to block.
To sweep.
The field cleared for half a second.
It was enough.
He threw his arm forward.
The iron extended like a spear.
Zeph was no longer there.
The wind exploded beneath his feet.
He appeared two meters to the right, in the air, rotating his body to align his axis before even touching the ground.
The landing made no sound.
Zeph attacked.
A wide, horizontal blade of air at chest height.
Telvaris closed his frame.
The iron thickened.
The blade did not cut.
It pushed.
Telvaris slid a full meter through the mud before locking in place.
The cost came as heat.
Steam rose from the metal.
Telvaris noticed.
Continuous defense was draining more than he could sustain.
He changed.
The iron stopped being surface.
It became vector.
Plates detached from his body and began to float around him like heavy satellites, moving in irregular orbits.
Zeph saw it.
And understood.
It was not defense.
It was a trap.
He attacked anyway.
Faster.
Denser.
More direct.
The wind came in a descending spiral.
Telvaris let it come.
When the attack entered the radius of the plates, Telvaris clenched his fist.
The plates collapsed inward.
The wind lost form.
Dispersed.
Zeph felt it.
That was it.
Field control was no longer safe.
Telvaris advanced in the same instant.
The iron extended behind him and pulled him forward like a hook thrown into his own future.
Distance vanished.
The impact came into the body.
Telvaris's forearm met Zeph's.
The impact snapped.
Zeph was shoved sideways.
He did not fall.
He spun.
His foot found Telvaris's shoulder.
Not to strike.
To change axis.
He went over.
The knee came down.
Telvaris raised the iron.
The impact was absorbed.
But the weight went through.
Telvaris sank to the knee in the mud.
Zeph landed behind him.
Already attacking.
The elbow came to the base of the neck.
Telvaris turned.
The elbow hit plate.
Spark.
Zeph entered the space created.
Short punch.
Flank.
Rib.
Base.
Each blow displaced, did not destroy.
Telvaris answered heavy.
Taking the rhythm for himself.
One blow.
Two.
Each one closing more space than trying to land.
Zeph retreated by centimeters.
Missed by millimeters.
One mistake was enough.
The iron touched his leg.
It did not bind.
It weighed.
The delay was half a second.
Telvaris entered.
The shoulder came like a battering ram.
Zeph was thrown against a fallen metal plate.
The impact tore the air from his lungs.
He rolled before the iron closed.
The ground did not help.
The mud sucked.
The rain blinded.
The body hurt.
Zeph rose, smiled without joy.
And advanced again.
The wind returned.
But now it came from inside.
It exploded in the feet, in the spins, in the evasions.
Each step was a shove against the world.
Telvaris felt it.
The speed changed.
The pattern he had read no longer existed.
They collided again.
Faster.
Closer.
More dangerous.
It was no longer technique against technique.
It was decision against decision.
Zeph let the weight fall.
Not into the ground.
Into his own body.
The wind no longer pushed from outside.
It ran through him.
Through tendons.
Through joints.
Through decision.
And Zeph advanced again.
But now he did not come in line.
He came in break.
The wind pushed the body to the left — and Zeph appeared on the right.
Telvaris turned his torso.
The iron was already there.
High plate.
Zeph did not strike.
He withdrew.
Appeared behind.
The kick came low.
The iron fell with it.
The blade scraped metal.
Spark.
Zeph spun inside his own spin.
High punch.
The iron rose.
Block.
Counter in the same movement.
The metallic blade came down in a short arc.
Zeph ducked by centimeters.
The iron passed where his face had been.
It took rain.
It took air.
It did not take Zeph.
He rose from the crouch with a knee.
The iron closed the point.
But closed late.
The impact caught rib.
Little.
Enough.
Telvaris felt the air leave.
And answered in the same beat.
The iron exploded laterally.
A short blade coming from below.
Zeph jumped back.
The ground gave.
He almost lost his base.
The wind corrected.
He vanished again.
Not far.
Too close.
Zeph's body appeared inside the guard.
Telvaris had no time.
The iron did.
Plates closed around.
Zeph struck.
Metal.
Struck again.
Metal.
The iron answered.
A short thrust.
Zeph spun.
The blade scraped his flank.
Shallow cut.
They separated just over a meter.
And collided again.
Zeph came in sequence.
High.
Low.
Inside.
Outside.
The iron answered each one.
Blocked.
Slid.
Rebounded.
Countered.
Always heavy.
Always costly.
Always present.
Zeph landed hits.
Telvaris defended.
But sank.
The mud climbed the leg.
Steam rose from the metal.
His body began to feel the weight of its own defense.
Zeph noticed.
And changed.
He did not accelerate.
He broke the rhythm.
Vanished.
Telvaris turned wrong.
The iron closed where Zeph was not.
The body turned with it.
And Zeph appeared on the other side.
The blow came dry.
Fist to the jaw.
The iron rose late.
The impact went through.
Telvaris staggered half a step.
The iron reacted.
A blade came from behind.
Instinctive.
Zeph did not see it.
He felt it.
The wind pushed his body forward.
The blade passed where his nape had been.
It caught hair.
It caught rain.
It caught nothing.
Zeph spun and kicked the base.
The iron closed.
But the weight went through.
Telvaris sank deeper.
And the iron changed.
No longer just plates.
It began to form spikes.
Angles.
Defense became threat.
Zeph smiled sideways.
Without humor.
He felt the body ask for limit — and ignored it.
"Two minutes remain…" he murmured.
He closed his eyes.
And for an instant… he was not there.
The courtyard was still warm from training.
The stone beneath him held the heat of the day.
Zeph sat on the lowest step, a towel thrown over his shoulders, elbows resting on his knees.
He breathed slowly.
Not from fatigue.
From control.
Neriah and Ryden trained further ahead.
Clean movements.
Control.
Distance.
Karna approached without hurry.
Stopped beside him.
Stayed silent for a few seconds, watching the training too.
"Phoebe told me about your new strength," he said at last. His voice was light, but not casual. "The one you're testing."
Zeph nodded.
"It's still unstable."
"How long?"
"Three minutes." Zeph did not look at him. "After that the body collects."
Karna tilted his head slightly.
"Collects how?"
Zeph let air out through his nose.
"Like I went too far…"
"…crossed something that wasn't meant to be sustained by humans."
Karna took a deep breath.
His gaze went to the sky for a moment.
Then back.
"Do you know what Éreon would say if he were here?"
Zeph did not answer.
He waited.
"That everything you push forward comes back at you from behind."
Silence.
The wind passed through the courtyard.
No force.
Just presence.
"And that everything in life has a price," Karna continued. "The question is never whether you'll pay."
Zeph raised his eyes.
"It's how much," he completed.
Karna smiled faintly.
"Or how much of yourself you're willing to leave behind."
"Then just try not to pay it all at once."
Zeph stayed silent for a while.
Then said:
"It's still not enough."
Karna did not ask for whom.
Nor for what.
He only nodded.
He opened his eyes — and was back in the now.
The rain was still falling.
The iron was still in spikes.
The body still hurt.
Time was still burning.
He smiled sideways.
Without humor.
And vanished.
And this time he did not reappear on the ground.
He appeared in the air.
The wind threw his body over.
Telvaris looked late.
The iron rose.
But did not cover everything.
The kick came to the clavicle.
The iron took part.
The bone took part.
Real pain.
Telvaris fell to his knees.
The iron held.
Zeph landed.
Short breath.
Muscle burning.
Tendon complaining.
But calm eyes.
Telvaris rose.
Heavy.
Steam coming off his body.
Living iron around him.
The world held its breath.
The two stood still.
For a second.
Only the world falling.
Rain.
Mud.
Hot metal.
And two systems trying to break each other before collapsing themselves.