Eagle emeralds meet raptor rubies with a blend of glare and focus. The dazzling dance of dynamic danger is near a full-hour mark. The waltz between lusty limbs and spirited steel may have granted the gift of bruise or even a wound every once in a while. Warm blood within unholy flesh simmers to a nigh-boiling point.

    The thrill of ongoing conflict is seared in the nerves of these rivals who had also been allies and bedfellows from time to time. Before this latest grand garden of stars, darkness, life, and death came to be, they have paved their shared long winding road with highs and lows. Some were regretful but plenty of exploits were still fruitful.

    Clash, sword of the East and of the West! Clap a sharp sweet note of unison between well-tempered blades to spread into the forest air. The seductive damsel with those vivid rubies nearly moans a sigh of something delightful while eagerly staring at the face of the Herculean corpse in gray cloak before her. That glamorous gaze is bewitching, almost aiming to disarm this bloke with his steel locked onto hers, gnashing on to avoid recklessly losing a limb.

    How admirable that he has been keeping up with her. If he were a lesser man and his celibacy is forsaken, she would have won within seven minutes since she began to play with him. His resistance to her allure is impressive to this black-haired war-lady in Centurion leather. Attractive, even.

    “Care for a stroll after our playtime?” sweetly spilled from her luscious red lips. Lovely leering gems from the pits of Hell are the upon nigh-glaring shamrock pearls he has. The cloaked corpse lightly scoffs.
    “If you would stay your sharp tongue and your frequent treachery, yes, I will gladly oblige.”

    Not a change is seen on her healthy cheeks and alluring lips. The damsel takes a step back while giving the long sharp edge of her sword facing towards her a single flick of her fingers. While it will harm many who does the same gesture, not her, not easily. The flick comes with the trauma of a warhammer jab on a weak shield. The man is repelled and forced to take three wide steps back. He keeps his knees a bit low to avert losing balance. She leaps back and away to land more than fifteen yards from where she recently held well her ground. Swing down the blade in hand.

    “Deal.”
    She tilts her blade before her. A fingertip from her free hand playfully strides up near the edge of the sharp tool. Her eyes lovingly gaze upon it. This accord brings relief to the man in gray, ratifying it with a deep breath.
    “However, if you would not mind, Grey darling....”
    Gawk again at her foe. Her soon posture changes. Her Oriental blade is retracted back with much of the length placed on her right side, inches close to her fair bosom. Left hand with her lovely fingers in a playful strum is hovering over the polished black steel. Left foot is before the rest of her, lightly gnashing on the soil. The point of her blade is not directed at the fellow many yards ahead, irrelevant its orientation, really.
    “Let us up the ante. Mortal combat can only provide us so much enjoyment. How about we awaken a bit of what separates us from the the denizens of this world and many others?”

    Grey, as she called him, puffs a moment of humor, a nervous one at that.
    “Oh, good heavens.”
    He commits to his own stance. The hilt in both hands is inches before the right side of his face hidden much by a hood and a cloth mask. The business end of his longsword is upon her beautiful visage. Grey lets out another deep breath to shake off and away his anxiety of the coming madness.
    “I would wager that you have in mind will hurt, Mika, greatly so.”

    Silence conquers them. There is a steady rise in focus, simmering just as much as their warm blood. Ten seconds since the last word was spoken, the air trembles around the duo. Black smoke is manifesting around Mika, swirling counterclockwise as it is covering her from head to toe. As for Grey, slim glass-like ribbons of air gather to convene around his blade as if called forth by the enchanted steel. Their blood boils.

    Both can feel the excited grinding of chaos being held back by sturdy walls of godly wills. Perhaps, even the forces of this world who may not be fond of just letting in foreign powers that can lay waste on a teeming land in a blink of an eye are at work as well to ensure they do not just spill out carelessly and wreak havoc. Take in another deep breath, both of them this time. As freedom of old brew leaves the lungs, a thunderous guttural song rattles the forest air. This foreboding spill is akin to two ferocious dragons growling at each other, ready for a passionate discourse through fire and fury.

    Grey grunts and stomps his right forward and thrusts his sword towards the nothingness before him! A pale misty cyclonic mass gallops ahead from half an inch before the swordpoint towards. It longs to give Mika a heavenly cataclysmic kiss that can shatter a fortress wall, let alone the devastation it may bring upon flesh and bone.

    She raises a brow as his gesture changes from that fair stance. Slide forward and fast, her own right foot! The rest of her seductress form follows! A thrust of her own is jabbed upon the clear forest air ahead! A glaring black mass the girth of her own blade flies away nigh-tenfold the speed of the cyclonic madness Grey unleashed! No, it is her black blade, extending away to such an extreme degree! The forest ground beneath both target-bound disasters is effortlessly carved and plowed out!

    An expanding dome of air and a high wall of soil run away from the heart of the dramatic clash! Trees and shrubs madly sway their branches! Much of the nearby lumber have their wooden arms broken and get hopelessly hurled tens of yards away! Volcanic notes banish silence for miles! Grey has been violently tossed more than a mile away from where he once stood, smashing through what trees his ragdoll of a body hits from this ungodly flight!

    Twenty seconds have passed since that cosmic clap of cataclysm. Through the sea of dirt still unable to find their way back on the forest soil, a sweet cough-like giggle of someone womanly joins the gradually-settling hysteria. Somewhere in the distance, her corpse companion is perhaps assuming what he is or so her mischievous musing would like to believe.

    “My, my, what thrill!”