With a thunderous boom, a cluster of clouds was torn apart with ridiculous ease, the resulting explosion rippling violently through the sky as two literal thunderbolts ripped straight through it. The once-beautiful scenery was reduced to nothing more than a battlefield, an insignificant backdrop for these two beings whose existence redefined destruction.

From the heavens above, heavy rain began to fall with crushing force, as though the world of Crymora itself was weeping at the sight of these two tearing it apart from within.

Yet not a single raindrop touched either of them. They moved faster than the rain itself, cutting through the downpour with absurd speed and overwhelming might. Their weapons clashed with endless consistency, sparks and shockwaves blooming endlessly at every collision. They continued to ascend higher and higher into the sky, ripping through cloud after cloud that bloated the heavens, their trajectory pure skywards, as though the sun itself were their ultimate destination.

Within the next fraction of a second, within a single millisecond, they reached the inner edge of the world, the boundary that separated Crymora from whatever lay beyond it. Gravity immediately intensified around them, crushing down with ferocious pressure, as though the world itself was desperately trying to force them back toward the ground and safeguard its hidden secrets. But neither of them cared. They stood brazenly upon the world's inner barrier, utterly indifferent to its resistance.

They withstood the world's gravity and pressure with their bare bodies as though it were nothing more than a gentle breeze. Their hands blurred into indistinct streaks as they exchanged attack after attack with endless savagery, each strike carrying the intent to obliterate the other completely.

Azaron's spear sank downward toward Valentine's kneecap, the thrust precise and merciless. But Valentine had already seen the attack long before it was completed. With a single flap of his massive black wings, he forced his speed higher, shooting sideways and dodging the strike with effortless motion. Yet Azaron did not wait for Valentine to counter. He linked his previous attack into another with insulting ease, the spear tearing sideways in a savage arc aimed directly at Valentine's jaw.

Valentine took a step back, his twin blades screaming as they cut through the intensified gravity to meet the incoming strike. In the next instant, metal met metal, a sharp metallic hiss ringing violently in their ears. Azaron flowed seamlessly into yet another attack, but Valentine was faster this time, forcing Azaron to shift from offense into defense. Valentine's first blade lunged toward Azaron's neck, while the second swept in toward his waist, the coordination between the two strikes flawless.

Azaron's wrist twisted calmly as he spun Ender into a blurring circle with immense speed and crushing force. With that single motion, he blocked both attacks at the same time with relative ease. The air and clouds around them detonated outward in a cataclysmic crescendo, shockwaves ripping through the sky with overwhelming intensity.

The next moment, Azaron's feet detached from the surface of the world's barrier. Astra energy surged toward the soles of his feet as he descended lightly, landing atop a nearby cloud with the weight of a feather. Valentine followed instantly, his body launching forward like a homing missile, tearing through the air toward Azaron without hesitation.

Valentine's short blades rose toward the sky, darkness writhing around them, and then, with the force of a falling meteor, he brought them crashing down toward Azaron's head. Azaron did not dodge. He merely grinned like a madman drunk on euphoria. His hands blurred upward as he thrust Ender into the path of the descending blades. Valentine's weapons thundered against the body of the spear with deleterious ruin. At the point of contact, a ring of concussive force detonated outward, the impact surging through Ender and directly into Azaron's hands and body.

Yet Azaron did not so much as tremble. His knees did not sink, his stance did not falter, and his body did not even flinch. He withstood the force behind the attack with nothing but his bare physique. Even the cloud beneath his feet remained pristine and stable, not a single ripple reaching it.

Azaron did not hesitate. He retaliated instantly. His fist shot upward in a blinding blur, Valentine having unknowingly placed himself in the worst possible position, directly in front of him. Valentine tried to react, his wings tensing, ready to flap, but it was already too late. Azaron's fist had already closed the distance. With the force of a dying sun, it slammed into Valentine's abdomen with disastrous power.

Valentine felt the overwhelming force detonate within him. Behind his body, the air exploded violently as inertia seized him, his form tearing backward with blistering speed. His back collided against Crymora's inner barrier with crushing impact. Gravity surged violently around him, attempting to pin him in place, but he ignored it. Pain flared fiercely in his mind, but he ignored that as well.

He felt the pain clearly, yet he knew he was not injured. The reason was obvious: the armor hidden beneath his cloak absorbed the worst of the blow, and at the very last instant, just before Azaron's fist connected, he had reinforced the impact point with dense layers of shadow. Even so, the pain coursed through his gut like wildfire.

'Such power,' he thought to himself.

His black eyes snapped toward Azaron, only for his vision to be filled by the tip of a spear tearing straight toward his neck. Valentine did not think. He moved purely on animalistic instinct, dodging just in time. With another world-rending impact, Ender slammed into Crymora's barrier. Yet for all of Azaron's strength and Ender's terrifying might, the barrier did not crack, did not dent, did not even tremble. It remained absolute. Azaron and Valentine, however, seemed utterly oblivious to this fact, they were far too busy enjoying themselves.

Azaron moved again, his feet dancing across the surface of the barrier as he thrust forward once more with relentless force. But Valentine had already recovered, already recalibrated his stance and rhythm. This time, he met Azaron's attack head-on. The collision sent him flying backward, immense force and weight overwhelming him for an instant.

Valentine was not surprised by this outcome. He understood immediately that he had met Azaron's attack too early, without properly gathering his strength. Using the distance created by inertia, he adjusted his breathing, his posture, and his timing, slipping back into the perfect battle tempo.

Azaron erased the distance between them once again in a heartbeat. But this time, Valentine was ready. He met Azaron blow for blow, strike for strike, refusing to give ground, his feet planted firmly as the sky itself seemed to groan beneath the violence of their continued clash.

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