The morning wind abruptly stilled.
Vyke moved first.
There was no roar of frenzied flame, no mad howl. Only the shriek of a spear cutting through the air, mingled with the fury of a storm. He stepped forward, fracturing the rock beneath his foot, and his spear surged like a silver dragon rising from the sea, driving straight at Tarnished's face with a gale that tore through the air.
The thrust was too fast, too fierce. Before the point even reached him, the wind already made it hard to breathe.
Tarnished did not dodge.
He braced the Fingerprint Stone Shield, solid as a moving rampart. Clang! Sparks burst across its face with a deafening crash. Tarnished's feet plowed backward half a step as he absorbed the impact.
The instant Vyke's momentum ran out, before he could muster strength for another strike, the Godskin Stitcher darted from beside the shield like a venomous snake.
Vyke's pupils contracted. He spun the shaft of his spear to parry, barely knocking the thrust aside. Even so, the Stitcher's tip left a white score across his breastplate.
The Elden Lord Candidate glanced down at it, his fighting spirit burning brighter.
He stopped holding back.
His spear became a silver storm, every strike wrapped in raging winds. Its point struck the ground and blasted open a deep crater; a sweeping blow carved a trench into the rock wall. Vyke blurred into silver light beneath the morning sun, his attacks rolling on like an endless tide-thrusts, rising strikes, sweeps, smashes. Every move concealed several variations, feints woven between true attacks in a dizzying display.
But Tarnished simply raised his shield.
Change your attacks a thousand ways. I'll stand my ground. The Fingerprint Stone Shield blocked left and right, taking every blow of the stormlike assault. Each impact