Chapter 143
The air shimmered.
Her blade, an extension of ancestral will, danced forward. Ice spiraled outward, each movement of her sword birthing elegant arcs of frost that shattered the golden barrier like porcelain. Ayato countered with a wave of his scepter, calling down spears of celestial fire. Ayaka twirled, weaving through them like a snowfall in stormwind, her wings shedding snowflakes that froze the flames mid-air.
Ayato and Ayaka lunged forward at each other.
Their blades clashed, a burst of gold and blue rippling outward, tearing the clouds around them.
Ayaka’s strikes were swift and precise, every motion a graceful blend of discipline and spirit. Ayato’s counters were crushing, delivered with divine momentum. Each swing of his scepter left trails of radiant ruin, while Ayaka’s blade left arcs of frostbite in the air.
"Why do you resist?" Ayato growled, pressing her back with a barrage of slashes that cracked the very sky. "You could join me. We could reshape the world. No more weakness. No more duty. Only control."
Ayaka parried, her frost dancing along his divine steel. "You don’t see it, do you? You haven’t risen—you’ve lost yourself."
She pushed forward, unleashing a flurry of strikes. With each clash, ancestral whispers echoed around them. Visions of past Kamisato leaders shimmered in the air—some standing behind Ayaka in silent support, others watching Ayato in mournful judgment.
Ayato faltered—just slightly.
Ayaka took the opening.
She spun, her wings expanding. A snowstorm surged from her body, engulfing the platform in a blizzard. Visibility dropped to nothing. But within the storm, Ayaka moved like moonlight—fluid and unstoppable. She struck Ayato’s flank. Frost spread along his divine robes.