Northern's breath fogged in the cold air as he squared off with Cal.
The tension between them was almost palpable, crackling like the very lightning that surged through Cal's sword as he pulled it a little bit out of its sheath.
The eerie silence of the rift seemed to amplify the anticipation, each heartbeat echoing like a drum in the frozen expanse.
Cal's eyes narrowed, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of Stainless behind his back. Northern tightened his grip on his own blade, his knuckles whitening with resolve.
The Mortal Blade gleamed with an ominous dark aura; this was, after all, the best sword for this occasion.
And Northern silently had looked forward to one like it. His muscles tensed and his senses heightened.
He could feel the raw power emanating from Cal's blade even without it being pulled out yet; he could tell by all his senses that this guy was no ordinary opponent.
