(CLANG!)

The clash between both warriors was a spectacle of power and skill, where the will of two elite combatants clashed explosively.

(CLAAAANG! TING!)

Tetrand's four katanas met Silver's sword and shield, a sharp and piercing sound that filled the hallway. The golden blade of "Demon Annihilator" met the silver edge of Silver's sword, and "Wind's Edge" crashed against his shield. The gray flames that enveloped Silver's weapons reacted immediately, absorbing the kinetic energy of Tetrand's attacks.

(SHING-SHING-SHING!)

Tetrand launched the first offensive attack. With his two upper arms wielding "Demon Annihilator" and "Dragon Hunter," he launched a series of X-shaped slashes, a net of steel that Silver could not completely evade.

("!!")

Silver, with its diminutive size as its best asset, nimbly crouched down and slid its shield, blocking the "Dragon Hunter" attack while its sword deflected "Demon Annihilator." The gray flames around it crackled, neutralizing the energy behind the blows.

(WHOOSH!)

With his lower arms, Tetrand responded with a surprise attack. "Thunder's Blade" launched a quick and low slash, leaving a trail of static electricity in the air.

(".....")

Silver, having regained its composure, slipped under the blade, moving between Tetrand's legs with amazing speed. Its gray flames sparked upon contact with the residual electrical energy, completely nullifying it.

(BWOOOM! FSH!)

The fight continued. General Tetrand unleashed broad and powerful slashes. With "Dragon Hunter," he launched a thrust that left a deep mark on the floor, and the air pressure forced Silver to roll to dodge the impact.

(ZAAAAP! FWOOOSH!)

("!!?!")

But, taking advantage of the force of the blow, Silver propelled itself to the side and launched its own offensive, moving unpredictably and attacking with its sword wrapped in gray flames.

(CLANG! CLANG!)

The clash of wills was epic. Tetrand's blows, though superior in brute force, were systematically blocked or deflected by Silver's nullification ability.

(SLASH!)

In turn, Silver's slashes, though lethal, failed to penetrate the general's hard armor.

".........."

("........")

Frustration and excitement mixed in the air. The battle stretched on; every slash from Tetrand, every movement from Silver, was a chapter in their duel.

"GRRRROOAAAWWWWRRR!!"

It was then that the intensity of the combat reached a new level.

(CRAC-CRAC-CRAC-CRAC-BOOOM!)

With a bestial roar, Tetrand unleashed the true power of his swords in a sequence of lightning-fast attacks that felt more like a torrent of cuts than an individual assault.

("?!")

Silver could barely react; the gray flames danced desperately around it.

"HAHAHAHAHA! FINALLY! YOU'VE FORCED ME TO USE MY TRUE FORM!" A long-forgotten pang of excitement surged through Tetrand. His savage smile widened.

(RUMBLE!)

His body swelled; his dark armor expanded and transformed into a grotesque and powerful exoskeleton.

("!!")

Silver, now much closer to the general, reacted instantly. It raised its shield and sword to receive the first impact.

"GRRRROOAAAWWW!!"

But this time, Tetrand's speed and strength were immeasurable. With a cry of pure battle euphoria, Tetrand lunged at Silver, who now looked diminutive.

(KRA-THOOM!!)

Tetrand's fist slammed him against the wall with seismic force.

(CRASH! THUUUUD!)

After receiving the blow, the figure of Silver was buried under a landslide of rubble.

"huff... Huff... Fuu..." Tetrand stood up, his breathing ragged but his savage smile intact as he got into a combat stance, his four katanas ready for the next assault.

"I know that won't finish you, little warrior."

His smile widened, becoming an expression of pure joy as he growled with a mixture of respect and anticipation for what was to come.

"In the exchange of attacks just now... I understood it."

(FLASH!)

And, as if in response to Tetrand's words, a light began to emanate from the rubble.

"I understood the true nature of your power and the true warrior hiding behind that armor. And I know that, until now, you haven't been able to fight with all your strength."

The light intensified, as if in response to his words.

(FWOOOSH!)

The light exploded, pulverizing the rock and metal into a whirlwind of dust that dissipated to reveal a figure emerging from the base of the rubble.

Tetrand, his eyes shining with emotion, let out one last sentence.

"You don't need to hold back in this fight."

A long time ago, in a world very different from ours, there lived a King who throughout his life had seen and learned more than any other mortal. His wisdom had granted him great power, immeasurable wealth, and an honor that resonated through the realms. But at the end of his long journey, what he treasured most was not his crown or his treasure, but his family.

He was adored by his people as a splendid, just, and wise ruler, although he was not perfect. He had his eccentricities: he was a bit perverted and had a strange obsession with his servants' and guards' underwear, a whim that his people accepted with a mixture of amusement and resignation.

However, his power and his kindness had created enemies: twisted and dark people who hated him to death for always interfering in their affairs, frustrating their most sinister plans. To them, the King was not a hero, but a nuisance that had to be eliminated.

Despite their dark intentions, the King's enemies were incapable of confronting him directly. He was too skilled and powerful. Every attempt at a conspiracy or assault was crushed with overwhelming ease. The King was an unstoppable force who stood against evil, and those who got in his way were quickly eliminated.

Over time, his enemies understood that attacking his throne or his life was useless.

However, the King made a grave error: he underestimated the malice and rancor directed at him. He did not expect that his enemies, unable to touch him, would seek to hurt him in the only way they could: by attacking his family, the most precious thing to him.

He had a daughter, a young woman gifted with exceptional talent and strength, whom the King valued and cared for with immense affection. She was the joy of his life, his greatest pride.

One day, while the King was arguing heatedly with his wife in the main hall, his voice resonated through the chamber. The argument, as was to be expected, revolved around his extensive collection of underwear and his strange custom of ordering new pieces from distant kingdoms. But in the midst of the futility of the debate, a messenger burst into the room, with a pale face and a breathless gasp. The words he brought with him were news so devastating that the King never mentioned his collection again.

The news the King received was a dagger in the heart: his daughter, his only daughter, had been attacked in the middle of a journey. The messenger told him the story of how the princess defended herself bravely; her superhuman strength allowed her to take down thousands of attackers. However, it was not enough. In the end, exhausted and outnumbered, her life was also extinguished.

Furious and consumed by a thirst for revenge, the King pursued and hunted down each and every one of those who participated in the attack. After finding his little girl's lifeless body resting in a sea of blood, he howled in pain at the moon incessantly that night, a lament that chilled the souls of all who heard it. His torment, however, was not the end, but merely the beginning.

Shortly after, the princess's last assassin, whom the King had tirelessly pursued, finally revealed himself to him of his own accord. With a twisted smile, the man looked into the King's eyes and let out a horrifying declaration.

"Do you want to see your daughter?"

After those words, the man revealed what he had done. He admitted to having taken the princess's soul from her corpse, a sacrilegious act that his sick mind considered a work of art. He confessed to having placed it in a golem that, according to him, was his best creation, but had never worked due to not having a soul powerful enough to control it. That is, until he found the princess's soul.

The King, with a clenched heart, saw the result of that man's evil. In front of him, in the middle of the rain, a black armor of a crude and ancient design appeared, enveloped in dark flames that would not stop burning, completely oblivious to the torrential downpour.

From that armor, a voice that the King knew well stammered, broken and pained.

"Da... ddy... Mo... mom..."

Undoubtedly, it was his daughter. The King felt shock paralyze him. Between sobs and with a breathless voice that tore him apart inside, the armor repeated the words over and over.

"Mo... mom... mo... mom... mo... kill... Kill!"

It was then that the voice became a death cry that unleashed madness. The armor launched itself against the King's people, its movements agile and lethal, destroying everything it touched. Paralized by horror and shock, the King could only watch what his beloved daughter had become: a killing machine without a conscience.

"AHAHAHAHAHA, YOU DESERVE IT!!" At that moment, he heard the demented laughter of the man who had stolen his daughter.

That laughter brought him back to his senses.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!!"

With a fury that burned hotter than the golem's flames, the King lunged at the man and struck him, demanding to know what he had done.

The man, with a demented smile, answered him. He had fused the essence of the princess's soul to the golem he had created, using forbidden materials that would normally destroy the soul of anyone who came into contact with them.

"But the princess was not just anyone. Her soul was able to resist... but in the process, it was damaged, fragmented, and shattered. She lost all reason. Now, she is only a death machine."

Upon hearing that answer, the King's rage exploded. He struck the man again and again, his fist falling mercilessly upon his enemy's skull, pulverizing it. His revenge culminated with the assassin's death, to the sound of the death that surrounded them.

Unable to kill or save her, the heartbroken King stopped the being that had once been his daughter. After a painful consultation with his wife, they had no choice but to lock the creature in a tower, the highest and most fortified in their kingdom. To ensure her sacrifice was not in vain, they created a legend: at the top of the tower lay a treasure of immense value, guarded by a black knight afflicted with madness. Those brave enough to claim it had to "liberate" the knight.

Many warriors and adventurers attempted the feat over the centuries, but none achieved their goal. With the passage of time, the pain transformed into a silent melancholy, and that solitary armor became a forgotten myth of an abandoned dungeon. Even the man who was once her father, vanquished by age, stopped visiting him.

But a simple prayer, a plea whispered in the darkness, resonated at the end:

"Please... save her..."

Thus, time passed. Thousands of years, billions of years, or perhaps much more, until finally, those prayers were answered. On that day, Silver was born.

And now, on that battlefield, after so much time, the figure of that princess emerged once more.

A dazzling light dissipated to reveal a slender and delicate figure like that of a girl.

"......"

Her armor, of a shiny silver metal, was not the crude one of a golem, but a feminine and elegant set that flowed like a dress, adorned with fine engravings that imitated a valkyrie's wings. Her long hair, which cascaded over her shoulders, was a luminous silver, and her eyes, as deep a blue as an ocean, looked at Tetrand with an expression of dignity and serenity.

Tetrand, in his imposing battle form, was surprised to see the calm on the face of the creature he had defeated.

"?!"

But the surprise turned to shock when, in an instant, he lost sight of her.

(SLASH!)

He heard a cutting sound behind him. The general turned in time to see his left arm, cleanly severed at the elbow, fall to the ground, enveloped in gray flames.

(PAF!)

"UUURGH!!"

Suddenly, that figure materialized at his side with a brutal kick that sent him flying backward.

(BAM!)

Tetrand barely defended himself with his two remaining arms, his body roaring with pain as he slammed into a wall.

"Is the difference that great?!"

For the first time in his life, astonishment completely overwhelmed him.

"Umm..."

From a distance, the girl showed him a slight smile on her dignified face as she held the sword that had belonged to the severed arm.

"......"

The smile vanished and, in a blink, he lost sight of her. She materialized behind him, in the air, with the two swords in her hands.

"Royal Style: Descending Vortex Cascade."

With terrifying speed and power, the swords, now wrapped in gray flames, became a whirlwind of slashes that rained down on Tetrand. The general had no time to react. The attack crushed and shattered him in a fraction of a second.

"It seems... I was the arrogant one..."

As he fell, his body turned to "mincemeat," Tetrand smiled. His last sentence was lost in the wind.

His form dispersed into ashes that fell to the ground.

"That was a great fight..."

Silver hummed, placing the sword she had taken from Tetrand in her hand in front of the general's ashes with a slight smile still on her face.

That princess was so strong that, in her time, she was known as "Valkyrie."