With a swift slash, Aether managed to carve a deep wound into your chest. He was breathless, sweat dripping from his brow after what felt like hours of relentless combat. He had underestimated you, that much was certain, but there was no sign of him surrendering just yet.

He swung his sword once more, each strike laced with fatigue, his gaze fixed intently on you. He was waiting for the smallest mistake, hoping you would falter-all while keeping a tight grip on his own composure, unwilling to let his focus slip.

"It would be wise to halt now," he said, his voice ragged yet firm, "to fight the mighty Traveler is a battle you cannot win."