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“Jonon... I think you know it’s too late for that, regretfully...” Mertin sighed, retrieving a single sword that matched the color of Jonon’s blue blades, but the blade seemed to be slightly longer.

“Oh? It’s rare to see you so impassioned for a good fight nowadays. I’m looking forward to seeing what you’ve accomplished in your secret training.” Jonon suddenly leaped forward, making the first move and closing the gap immediately. His first strike was without essence, meant to test Mertin’s supposedly-stale reflexes.

However, Mertin parried the attack with ease, using essence without hesitation or desire to test his opponent. This forced Jonon to do the same and increased the emotional tension between the brothers. The last of the friendly air between them was snuffed out as Mertin charged in response to Jonon’s attack.

No more words were spoken. Their swords did all the necessary talking.

Both covered their weapons in swirling ice, ready to cleave through each other on the slightest of impacts. But Jonon’s additional earth essence was pivotal in this exchange. With earth essence for defense and water essence for offense, Jonon kept his wits about him and silently admired his younger brother’s long-hidden tenacity.

Their intent to harm each other wasn’t muddled in the slightest, proving them both to be swordsmen well in tune with their craft and confidence in every move. While that may leave some feeling worried coming from an opponent that was supposedly out of practice, Jonon admired his little brother more with each clash of their blades. The consistent parries true to form, the confident yet careful footing, the small personal flares of individual swordsmanship... It allowed Jonon to feel both puzzled and astounded.

.....

“Why...” Jonon mumbled under his breath. ” Why... Why...”

Each time Jonon struck back and was parried or evaded to perfection, his mumbles grew louder. “Why... Why Mertin?!”

“I told you not to–”

“Why didn’t you tell me you had ascended?!”

“...” Finally left speechless and unsure how to respond, Mertin blinked in thought.

Jonon kept frost swirling around his blades, unleashing his next barrage of strikes. With Mertin on the back foot, Jonon shouted again, “Why didn’t you tell me, or Dad, or anyone?! Tell me!”

All of a sudden, Mertin’s expression calmed as the sheen of his eyes dulled in the dimly lit room. “So you know... Then I shouldn’t waste any more time.”

“Why–”

Putting on an emotionless face, Mertin poured more essence into his blade. The ice continued to revolve but a new form took shape. The blade was extending with each swing of the sword, varying lengths each time Mertin attacked. Mertin refused to let Jonon get a comfortable feel for his reach and his movements sped up.

“Why Mertin? Can’t you at least answer that question?” Jonon questioned, noticing the change in Mertin’s battle art immediately.

The revolving bits of ice were now thinned out to be sharper and more brittle. It would take more essence than normally, but it would pay off in a battle against someone of a lower realm with less essence. Effectively, Jonon was facing a clock, either accepting a quick defeat or expending essence more quickly to defend himself for the time being.

Of course, Jonon took the challenge without any hesitation. The dual-wielding swordsman changed tactics. Since he would need to expend more essence than he wished just to keep up, why not pour out everything in hopes for a single opportunity to strike the winning blow.

Jonon stored one sword and focused on matching Mertin’s essence output with a single blade, trying not to spread himself too thin against an opponent with more essence. But he wasn’t done. Earth essence poured out of his body. It immediately hardened and condensed to the best of Jonon’s ability.

Mertin wasn’t shaken at all. He met Jonon’s attack head-on. Icy vapor sprayed as bits of frost broke from the swords and clashed against the essence surrounding the brothers.

But when Mertin swung in counter of Jonon’s attack, he was shocked.

The first blood was drawn, trickly out of the clean wound. Jonon was smiling wide, disregarding his bloodied shoulder. “I didn’t need that arm to fight you anyway...”

Shaking off his shock, Mertin stepped back. His own icy armor cracked as Jonon’s blade was pulled out, leaving a small trail of blood for them both to see. But there was a clear victor of that exchange.

“You’re amazing, Little Bro...” Jonon shook his head and sighed. He looked at the wound left of Mertin’s body, disappointed in the little damage he had made. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner... Why did you give up teaching and training in public?”

“Please, Jonon. Do we need to continue?”

“You’re more serious than ever... Fine. A deal’s a deal.” Jonon stored both swords, dispersed his essence, and retrieved a somewhat tattered book in leather binding. Tossing it without a care in the world, Jonon struggled to grasp and accept what was going on.

Mertin caught the book and was instantly baffled, blinking as he asked, “You didn’t open it?”

“No...” replied Jonon, comparing the gash in his shoulder to the superficial cut that made it past Mertin’s essence defenses. “It’s got a protective formation on it, right?”

“I guess you didn’t take the formation course for nothing,” Mertin chuckled lightly, almost sounding disappointed. He took one last good look at Jonon before turning toward the door. “Then this is goodbye. I’ll pay for your injuries so–”

“Why not ask for help?”

Mertin’s steps slowed as Jonon spoke louder, “Why not ask for help? Something is–”

“Goodbye, Big Bro...” Mertin sighed, not turning back in order to hide his watery eyes.

The door was opened and closed promptly without pause. Now alone, Jonon dropped to his knees and wrestled with his tears. “You’re more immature than ever... Not asking your older brother for help...”