Chapter 463: You haven’t gotten rusty at all
The field of Val’Therya exploded in a spectacle of raw power and lethal beauty the mont Scarlet launched her first attack.
The red warrior spun through the air at a speed impossible to follow with the naked eye, propelled by a sudden burst of energy that tore the ground beneath her feet as if the earth itself were screaming under her fury. Her body traced a perfect arc as she spun in midair, and her outstretched leg described a flaming curve, aiming directly at Frieren’s neck with a kick that looked more like the blade of a red-hot scythe.
But the elf was no less precise in her serenity.
With a fluid, almost lazy gesture, Frieren raised her arm wrapped in sleeves embroidered with magic, instantly conjuring a translucent ice shield. The crystal ford with a sharp crack, taking the shape of a resplendent hexagon that intercepted the blow flawlessly.
The impact was violent.
Scarlet sparks and fragnts of ice shattered in all directions, spinning in the air like a storm of blades and embers. The sound of the clash echoed throughout the valley, reverberating in the surrounding mountains like distant thunder.
Scarlet retreated with supernatural agility, spinning in the air until she touched the ground with one knee. Her chest rose and fell with the excitent of soone who had longed for a worthy combat. A fierce smile danced on her lips.
“There…” she murmured, her eyes sparkling. “You haven’t gotten rusty at all.”
Frieren remained silent. Her eyes glowed with opalescent light as she raised her hand toward the sky and whispered incantations in a language forgotten for centuries. Three ice spears appeared around her, levitating with deadly elegance, their tips dripping with freezing magic. With a sharp crack, they shot off at high speed, piercing the air like glacial teors.
Scarlet did not run. She vanished.
In a scarlet flash, her form flickered, and in less than a second, she reappeared behind Frieren, her fists wrapped in intense flas. But the elf, as if she already knew, dissolved her body into a mist of ice that reconstructed itself three ters ahead, floating lightly in the air.
When Scarlet touched the ground, a magical trap activated: a frozen rune hidden beneath her feet exploded into an ice prison, trapping her ankles for a brief—but fatal—second.
Frieren wasted no ti.
Raising both hands to the sky, she invoked an ancient elental spell. A column of blue-white energy plumted from the heavens like the judgnt of a god, striking Scarlet with almost divine fury. The ensuing explosion tore the field into a huge crater, and dust rose in a dense whirlwind. Lightning flashed across the sky above, while the sound of the magical discharge made the stones vibrate.
From the center of the destruction, a figure slowly rose.
Scarlet erged, enveloped by a tornado of embers spinning at high speed, her eyes burning with draconic light, her face marked by soot and blood. An ancient roar seed to vibrate in her throat.
“Now you’ve pissed off.” Her voice was low, hoarse, like that of a beast held back by a final chain.
She raised her arms, and the sky responded.
A flaming circle opened above them like a second sun, radiating an intense golden light. From it rained a storm of flaming spears—each as dense and fast as a cot, carrying the force of a dead star.
Frieren did not retreat.
She slid backward, summoning a carpet of enchanted ice beneath her feet, and raised a silver do of defense, covered with lunar runes and spiritual shields. The spears struck the shield in succession, exploding in flaming bursts that shook the ground like earthquakes. The surrounding forest caught fire. The sky darkened with smoke.
At the center of it all, Frieren resisted.
When the last fragnt of the do shattered into light, she was still there, panting, her hair dancing around her like silver snakes, her eyes steady as steel.
Silently, she changed her strategy.
Frieren raised both hands, her fingers tracing invisible symbols in the air. A thick mist rose from the ground, engulfing the entire field. From it erged multiple illusions—versions of herself, walking, smiling, casting spells, floating like specters in unison.
Scarlet spun her body into a guard stance, her eyes alert.
“Tricks…” she growled.
Her body glowed bright red, then exploded in a wave of heat so intense that it lted the mist and everything hidden within it. The illusion evaporated. Reality returned.
Frieren appeared in the air, falling at high speed like an ice cot, holding a crystalline blade that spun in her hands as if it had a will of its own.
Scarlet crossed her arms at the last mont, her fists still wrapped in black fire. When Frieren’s blade struck her forearms, a shockwave spread in all directions, silencing the world for a second. Not even the wind dared to blow.
Both were thrown backward, rolling in the dust and rock fragnts. Their bodies bled. Their smiles were still on their lips.
Now, the combat abandoned the formality of technique and plunged into the savagery of will.
Scarlet attacked with her own body as an extension of fire—each punch was thunder, each kick an eruption. Her flas took on living forms, flaming serpents that pursued Frieren with cruel intelligence.
Frieren responded with pure magical artistry. Her gestures created runes that exploded into spheres of ice, blades of wind, and beams of light that cut through the night forming over the field. She was precision, beauty, and power, in an ancestral choreography that blended centuries of wisdom with the lightness of a ballerina.
The two collided in the center of the field, eye to eye, without words.
Scarlet with her fists wrapped in black, almost liquid fire.
Frieren with her hands glowing in ethereal blue, her nails sparkling like magical crystals.
When the blows collided, the world went dark.
The field exploded into a fifty-ter crater, dust rose like towers of smoke, the air broke into waves, and all around, the entire forest caught fire… and froze at the sa ti.
And at the epicenter of the chaos… there they were.
On their knees. Sweaty. Wounded. Smiling.
Scarlet wiped the blood from the corner of her lips with the back of her hand, her eyes shining like embers.
“That was…”
Frieren, breathless, finished:
“Incredible.”
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