Northern looked at him tiredly, then summoned the Illusioned Hefter. The sleek silver blade gleamed wickedly as it caught the cold morning light, a bright sheen dancing across its polished edge like a silent threat.
Kaelan continued his slow approach, deliberate with each step. When he saw Northern summon a sword—and worse, a single-handed one—he squinted, visibly irritated.
"Do you seriously plan to not take this seriously? You promised."
Northern grimaced.
"What do you mean? This is me taking it seriously."
Kaelan was quiet for a moment. Then he raised his chin slightly, a spark of offense flashing through his voice.
"I warn you, Rian… that sword is a poor match against me. You've got ice. Fire. What about those? Why force short-range when you're built to dominate from a distance?"
Northern's brow twitched as though a headache had just bloomed behind his eyes.
He shrugged lazily.
"It seems no one has learned their lesson yet."
