Sand and dust whipped through the air. Hazle hovered low, his figure like the shadow of a storm ready to devour anything that dared stand in his path. The last of Joker's troops, newly arrived on the shoreline, stared in wide-eyed horror.
"Shit… he's… he's going to attack us," one soldier whispered, his voice catching in his throat.
"I… I can't move…" muttered another, his knees trembling.
The wind silenced their steps. A hollow thunder echoed in their ears—followed by an invisible strike of air, hitting like a bolt of lightning.
BOOM!
The troops were flung in all directions, their bodies crashing against rocks, flagpoles, and scattered debris. Screams rang out for only a moment before being swallowed by the howling wind.
In the distance, Charlotte squinted her eyes. Her aging body leaned against a large boulder, her thick mustache fluttering in the violent gale. Beside her, Zeco panted, one hand pressing down on a still-unhealed wound.
"I suppose now's a good time to regret never writing a will…" Charlotte muttered flatly.
Zeco glanced at her. "That's a joke, right?"
Charlotte nodded slowly. "Well… half of it. The other half's serious."
"Just make sure I don't die without knowing which half," Zeco replied with a bitter smile.
The air trembled.
Hazle had yet to touch the ground, but the earth had already begun to crack beneath him. His white eyes vanished as if his soul and awareness had transcended human limits. Wind encircled him, forming a spiraling, gleaming funnel in the air—one breath felt like the prelude to a coming storm.
He was about to move.
But a sharp voice cut through the tension.
"HEEEYYY!" Joker's voice rang out, standing amidst the rubble, his suit torn and face lined with cuts from the previous blast. "Don't you… recognize me?"
Hazle turned his head, facing the new threat. This time, his feet touched the scorched ground. Joker took a deep breath. He wasn't just anyone—and this wasn't his first encounter with power like this. But he knew, this was different.
Hazle raised his right hand, wind curling around his palm, forming a shrieking, invisible spear.
But before it launched, Joker was already moving.
One sidestep left, then right—he dodged the first attack. Then two, three, four more spears followed—all missed. Joker spun, leapt, ducked—his movements danced within the storm.
"I know… you're not human anymore," Joker muttered, sweat dripping. "But I'm no ordinary fighter either, you damn monster!"
Hazle didn't respond. He charged forward.
Close-quarters combat. The wind fused with his body. He punched the air—and Joker was blasted backward, blocking with layered shield magic.
A small explosion followed the impact. The ground shook. Flames from the wreckage spread.
Charlotte and Zeco could only watch.
"I'm about to say something I've never said before," said Charlotte, eyes locked ahead as she spoke to Zeco.
"What's that?"
She grinned. "If we survive this… I'm gonna kiss this rock and hug it for three days straight."
Zeco raised an eyebrow. "Why the rock?"
"Because it's the only damn thing that hasn't abandoned me in this fight!"
Zeco shook his head. Even on the brink of death, the dwarf girl's jokes never failed to lift his spirits—if only slightly.
Back to the battlefield.
Hazle and Joker stood face to face. This time, Hazle wasn't just angry—he had lost control.
And Joker knew… if he failed to stop Hazle now, it wasn't just his plan that would fall apart.
Hazle lunged forward. The earth split open. The wind screamed.
But before he could land his punch, Joker spun and struck hard—
THUD! —right into Hazle's face.
Hazle's body was knocked back, but he remained floating, never falling.
Joker stepped back twice, sweat pouring, his hands trembling from the impact.
"I miss my younger days," he said with a twisted grin and a ragged breath, "Those crazy fights… can't believe I still got it."
Hazle slowly raised his head. No blood. No wounds. Just pure, burning emotion.
The battlefield fell silent for a breath.
And that was the stillness…
before an even greater storm.