CHAPTER ELEVEN: THE RESONANT TRIAL (Part six)
Kaelen shifted his stance—
not back, but lower.
His right foot slid into the inner ring of the spiral,
and for a breath, the glyph beneath him calmed.
He inhaled sharply,
flared his pulse through the base of his spine—
and struck.
The halberd arced like a drawn constellation—
not brute strength, but precision.
The head of the blade caught Torr's next advance—
slammed against his forearm with a flare of light and sheer, raw impact.
Dust lifted.
Stone cracked.
The crowd gasped—
but Torr didn't falter.
He staggered, only slightly—
then drove his foot into the ground.
Glyphstone rose beneath him—
a jagged spike of resonance-forged terrain.
It shot toward Kaelen like a coiled fang.
Kaelen spun—
his halberd dragging a sweeping glyph through the dust—
"Vel Tracine."
A defensive Veilmark arc.
It caught the spike mid-rise,
but not cleanly.
The edge of the blast clipped his shoulder—
sent him stumbling back,
halberd nearly torn from his grip.
From the stands, Yolti flinched.
"Kaelen—!"
But he didn't fall.
He slammed the halberd down to stop his slide—
let the shock reverberate through his arms,
down his spine,
into the floor.
The weapon vibrated—
and a long, thin crack appeared across the base of the blade.
Torr didn't smile.
Didn't taunt.
He just walked forward again,
pulse steady, Veilmark still glowing.
Unbothered.
Unrelenting.
Kaelen braced himself.
Sweat at his brow.
Breath shallow.
But his eyes?
Still locked forward.