As the battle between Reign and the mysterious swordsman reached its peak, the atmosphere crackled with tension. The entire battlefield seemed to hold its breath, aware that this clash would determine not just the outcome of the trial, but perhaps the fate of everyone present. The swordsman's cold eyes remained locked on Reign, unyielding and unreadable. He was no longer holding back, his aura now a blinding silver light that cut through the remnants of the surrounding darkness like a beacon.
Reign, for his part, was beginning to feel the weight of the fight. His transformation into his Nephilim form was immensely powerful, but it was also taxing. Every second that passed in this state drained more of his energy. Yet, he couldn't afford to relent. His opponent was too skilled, too experienced—an unwavering force that had seen through every tactic Reign had employed thus far.
