I stood there shocked at his defense. All previous enemies were never able to stand up to spellblade – not the light zombies in the desert, nor the monsters in the sewers.

  Should I have channeled more mana? I glanced at my blade. The metal underneath showing hairline stress fractures from even this limited power output. Anything more would probably shatter the blade and I shuddered at the thought of replacing yet another sword.

  But standing here doing nothing wasn't exactly a winning strategy either. My mind raced through calculations, each possibility worse than the last. More power meant certain weapon destruction. Less power was clearly useless.

  "If you have nothing else, then stay there and witness your defeat."

  The blademaster words brought me out of my head. He hadn't even bothered to counter-attack after stopping my strike. That was probably the most insulting part – I wasn't even worth retaliating against.

  "Fourth path, frozen like ice."

  The temperature plummeted instantly. My breath crystallized in front of my face, forming delicate patterns that hung suspended in the air. Frost crept along my sword's edge, the dark flames of Spellblade sputtering weakly against the overwhelming cold.

  [Status Effect: Severe Chill]

  [Movement speed reduced by 40%]

  [Attack speed reduced by 25%]

  The status effects stacked up as ice continued forming around us.

  "Ice teaches us patience," the blademaster continued, his form becoming harder to track as frost obscured my vision. "It preserves, it entraps, it transforms through stillness rather than motion."

  I tried to step back, to create some distance, but my boots were already frozen to the ground. The ice was crawling up my legs. Each crystal formation added another layer of weight and restriction to my movement.

  "Noctus!" Estella screamed out in alarm. "Your sword!"

  I looked down to see hairline cracks spreading across my blade where the frost met the lingering heat of Spellblade. The rapid temperature change was destroying my weapon.

  Great. Just great. Another sword about to break, and this time I didn't even have the satisfaction of landing a decent hit first.

  The ice continued its relentless advance. I could hear similar struggles from my teammates – Tirion's shield arm creaking under growing layers of frost, Lysa's shadow magic flickering as ice crystals diffused her power, Estella's chakrams spinning slower and slower as their edges became encrusted with rime.

  "This is the truth of ice," the blademaster's voice echoed through the frozen air. "Victory requires neither movement nor force. Sometimes, perfect stillness is the deadliest technique of all."

  I had about three seconds to make a decision. The ice would completely immobilize us in five seconds, maybe six. My sword would shatter in two. Spellblade was neutralized, physical attacks were useless, and my teammates were as trapped as I was.

  Goodbye blade.

  "Hey," I called out, trying to keep my teeth from chattering. "You wanted to see my all... Get ready for it"

  I pushed every bit of mana I could gather into the already straining blade, reaching into reserves that I never knew were available. The metal began to glow, not with the controlled dark flames, but with the raw unstable energy of pure magical overload.

  [Spellblade 85%... 90%... 95%...]

  The sword was vibrating so hard I could barely hold it. Cracks spread across its surface like spider webs with dark energy leaking from each new fissure. The heat from the blade melted the ice around me, steam hissing where magic met frost. My mobility was returning.

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  I charged at him, ice cracking beneath my feet like breaking glass. My sword was more light than metal now, magical energy bleeding from every fissure in the blade. The weapon wouldn't survive the next few seconds – but neither would he, if this worked.

  [Spellblade 100%]

  [Warning! Critical mana overflow detected!]

  [Catastrophic weapon failure imminent!]

  I could feel the blademaster's eyes widened beneath his blindfold – the first real expression I'd seen from him. He was not expecting this.

  Behind me, I could feel my teammates moving into position, bracing for whatever came next.

  "Now!" I shouted to my teammates. "Cover your eyes!"

  The sword detonated in my hands. The explosion of pure magical energy shattered every ice formation in the chamber, sending crystalline shrapnel in all directions. The backlash threw me backward, my hands burning from the release of concentrated mana. Through the chaos, I caught a glimpse of the blademaster raising his sword in a desperate block – too late.

  When the magical discharge cleared, the blademaster lay crumpled on the ground, his perfect stance finally broken. The chamber was littered with fragments of my exploded sword mixed with shards of magical ice.

  "We... did it?" I managed to wheeze out, collapsing to my knees. My arms felt like they'd been dipped in lava, then fed through a meat grinder, then dipped in lava again. My mana was completely drained. But we'd actually managed to—

  "Fifth path, formless as the shadows."

  The voice froze my blood colder than the ice path. The triumphant grin died on my face. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. I'd planned it perfectly. It was supposed to work. It had to work.

  But the "defeated" body on the ground was already dissolving into darkness, melting away like mist in morning light. Like all my careful planning. Like every shred of hope I had of winning this fight.

  From another shadow cast by the planted swords, the real blademaster emerged, completely unharmed.

  "I must admit," he said, adjusting his blindfold, "that would have been deadly if it struck true. Such desperate creativity... such willingness to sacrifice everything for a single strike." His voice carried appreciation. "Few have ever pushed me to reveal the fifth path in these trials. Most fall to earth's defense, or shatter against ice's patience. But you..." He drew a new blade from the shadows. "Such overwhelming power…You forced my hand." He smiled. "The First King would have approved. He too understood that sometimes the path of the blade requires us to break ourselves to break our limits."

  I tried to push myself back to my feet, but my arms weren't responding. The feedback from the explosion had done more damage to me than it had to... well, absolutely nothing, apparently. And now I was kneeling here without a weapon, facing an opponent who could create shadow clones.

  "But before you celebrate any victory, know that the shadows teach us humility," the blademaster continued. "They remind us that what we see is not always what is, that victory and defeat are often merely illusions."

  The blademaster walked in front of me, each step echoing in the chamber. I tried to move, to crawl away, to do anything – but my body refused to respond. Behind me, I could hear my teammates struggling against some unseen force, their movements becoming slower and slower.

  He raised his blade high. Even through his blindfold, I could feel his gaze boring into me.

  "Now witness the final path, the path of light."

  "Many mistake light for mere illumination," the blademaster spoke, his sword beginning to emit a soft glow. "They see only its capacity to reveal, to make clear what was hidden."

  The glow intensified, becoming almost painful to look at. "But true masters understand that light is fundamentally about transformation. It does not simply illuminate – it changes what it touches. Plants turn toward it and grow. Shadows flee before it. Creatures are drawn to it like moths to flame."

  He raised his blade higher, and the light spilled out to fill the room. "The Church of Light teaches that their god's radiance is purely benevolent. But they understand only half the truth. Light can preserve life... or it can scour it away entirely."

  The warmth turned to heat, then to burning. "Light is the first force of creation, and the last force of destruction. When a star dies, it does not fade quietly into darkness – it explodes with enough radiance to birth new worlds." His voice boomed. "Or to end them."

  "This is the final truth of light – it is neither good nor evil, neither gentle nor harsh. It simply is. And in its purest form..." He leveled his sword at me, the blade now blazing like a newborn star. "...it reduces everything to its most fundamental state."

  "Sixth path, still as holy."

  The light intensified.

  First went my vision. The world became an endless field of white, so bright it felt like my eyes were burning even behind closed eyelids.

  Then my hearing faded, the sounds of battle replaced by a high-pitched ringing that grew louder and louder until even that disappeared into absolute silence.

  Touch vanished next – I couldn't feel the floor beneath me anymore, couldn't tell if I was standing or falling. The taste of blood in my mouth from the earlier fighting faded to nothing. Even the smell of ozone from my exploded sword disappeared.

  One by one, every sense, every connection to the world around me, winked out like stars being swallowed by dawn. I tried to call out to my teammates, but I couldn't even feel my own mouth moving. Did I even still have a body? Or had the light consumed that too?

  In that endless white void, a single thought managed to form:

  So this is what it means to face someone who's mastered the six elements.

  And then everything went white.