The beast's reconstruction of the icy aura into a dome served a purpose that only someone within it could understand. Honestly, it was simple. Mana particles of different affinities were always present, imperceptible to the naked eye, but present.
They all coexisted, and it was through their existence that affinities could be manifested into reality.
The icy dome eradicated that balance. The only mana particles that existed within it were those related to the ice affinity. This was the reason the spatial rift collapsed.
When the beast saw her body snap backwards and plunge into the river, it couldn't help but grin. Just as it had thought, all it needed was a counter.
The sword saint's unfocused eyes locked onto the creature, her mind still a mess of broken pieces. Through that haze of confusion, she desperately tried to comprehend what had gone wrong. The past second replayed in her mind.
She had opened the spatial rift and stepped in, just as she had done several times during the battle. But the moment she did, a chaotic pressure within it violently crashed into her body. She was thrown out before it could collapse and kill her, but the damage had already been done.
Despite barely escaping it, her whole body ached with a pain that threatened to collapse all functionality at any given time. Her muscles screamed for rest, yet coiled like springs under rolling steel. The bloodied massacre of the back gate resurfaced—the mutilated bodies of the townsfolk and adventurers alike.
She couldn't rest, not until the creature had gone to join its companion.
The beast moved. Its movements, although quick, couldn't be compared to how it was on land. It parted through the currents, arriving in front of the human with a roundhouse kick aimed at her head.
The sword saint, who was slowly recovering her bearings, noticed the attack a little too late. She raised her gauntlet instinctively to intercept the strike. The impact rocked her organs and brought her to her knees, but at least her head was intact.
She and the creature stayed locked in place for a split second, the weight of the attack still pressed heavily on her. She gritted her teeth and, with all her might, pushed back in an attempt to throw it off. It worked, surprisingly to her. The beast was thrown off its balance and stumbled back into the water.
Elaine took the moment to reassess her current situation and came to a realization, the beast's attacks weren't as destructive as they had been moments ago. When she had chosen to relocate their battle to the river, she hadn't thought that the water would weaken the creature.
She had come to the conclusion that the ice and water currents would restrict its movements, making it easier for her to use her technique. But it seemed that the longer the creature stayed drenched in water, the weaker its physical prowess became.
This was a weakness she planned to exploit.
She took a boxing stance, tactical golden eyes leveling to match the cold slits of the creature, gauntlets raised to chest level. Her whole presence screamed, "Come at me," and the beast ran forward to answer the call.
A silver spear materialised in its palm, and with full force it thrust it at the sword saint's side. The sword saint used the side of her gauntlet to deflect the cold spear while the other shot forward like a raging bull.
The attack came at the beast at point-blank range and struck it cleanly on its chest. The sword saint used the hand she had used to deflect to grip the ice spear while the creature's body stumbled backwards.
She launched the spear at its creator. The creature evaded the weapon and dashed forward once again. It threw a punch at the human, and she did the same. The blows connected—neither of them bothered to dodge at point-blank range, instead opting for mutual destruction.
Both dropped whatever persona they had held until now. The dignified sword saint was gone, and what stood in her place was a battered young lady still clad in armour, with eyes that defied any possibility of failure. The creature no longer felt as supreme and sovereign.
The only thing that mattered now was the strength in their arms and the resilience of their bodies.
Elaine blocked a punch, evaded another, and used her knee to bash into the creature. Each strike carried the weight of a dozen deaths—a dozen faces that flashed across her mind as she threw another blow at their killer.
The beast evaded to the best of its ability. Its smooth pale skin was now painted purple in several places and bruised in others. It spat out black blood. Its fists were still raised, but its legs felt weak. For some reason, the longer they fought, the weaker it became.
It narrowly avoided a blow to its head, ducking at the last moment just to throw a punch of its own. For the first time, the impact of its bone against metal felt painful.
The sword saint ignored the blow entirely and drove her knee into its ribs. The strike sent its body folding as it plunged deep into the water once more. She followed immediately, diving into the waters and planting herself atop the beast.
She pressed her entire weight onto the creature and threw punch after punch. Her lungs burned with a desperate need for air, her eyes stung beneath the water's surface.
But the thrashing, twisted expression of pain on the creature's face brought her a dark sense of satisfaction.
One of them had to fall eventually.
And from the looks of it, the war grade that had once stood as an apex predator was at its wits' end.
The only thing capable of saving it…
was mutual destruction.