Somewhere between hope and annihilation.
The air screamed.
Soren stood, barely.
His body—shredded, armor cracked and burned. Blood trickled down the corner of his mouth. His breath was ragged, chest rising with each tremble. Black flames clung to him like dying embers, flickering, fading.
Across from him—
Aurelian floated effortlessly, expression bored.
Dimitri Volkov, cloaked in his nightmare armor, eyes blank.
Luxarion, wings radiant, his divine glow flickering between purity and distortion.
Soren's black flames sparked again—briefly—then died.
Aurelian looked at him as one might look at a beaten dog.
"Your fire is dying, human."
He raised a hand toward his subordinates.
"End him."
Dimitri and Luxarion moved in unison, their bodies vanishing in blurs of speed. Soren's cracked eyes widened, his instincts screaming.
He knew.
He couldn't move fast enough.
His flames wouldn't light.
He was done.
But just before impact—
BOOM.
A foot smashed into Luxarion's face.
A fist collided with Dimitri's ribs.
The air split.
Shockwaves exploded in every direction.
The sky turned white-hot with the force.
Two figures now stood in front of Soren.
One—his golden coat blazing in the sunlight, eyes cold, jaw tight.
Hakan Raihan.
The other—his long black hair flowing, blade humming with celestial resonance.
Ren Tainlong.
Soren coughed, slumped back, and smirked with bloodied lips.
"Took you bastards long enough."
Hakan didn't turn.
He cracked his knuckles, each pop echoing like thunder.
"Get behind us."
Ren's voice was cold as ice, already calculating.
"You took on all three. You're either the dumbest man alive..."
He glanced over his shoulder.
"Or the bravest."
Soren spit blood and grinned.
"Why not both?"
The wind itself held its breath.
The heat shimmered like blades of glass. Six beings floated mid-air—each one more myth than man, each breath heavy with power, history, and wrath.
On one side:
Hakan Raihan. Golden eyes locked with fury.
Ren Tainlong. Blade unsheathed, stance unshakable.
Soren Raihan. Armor cracked, but still burning—his will refusing to die.
On the other:
Luxarion. Wings of brilliance corrupted by a shroud of darkness.
Dimitri Volkov. Eyes vacant, soul devoured by something twisted.
Aurelian Thaldris. The Elven Sovereign. Calm. Cold. Cataclysm wrapped in a man.
The storm around them didn't come from the sky.
It came from their presence.
Then—
"It ends here."
Hakan's voice cut the silence like a blade through silk.
Luxarion's corrupted light pulsed in response, heat and gravity bending around him.
Soren stepped forward, shoulders squared despite the burns across his chest, black flames still licking at his fingertips.
"The elf is mine."
He nodded at Aurelian, jaw clenched.
"I started this fight. I'll finish it."
Aurelian tilted his head slightly, a faint smirk curling at the edge of his lips.
"How poetic."
Hakan didn't argue. He didn't need to.
His eyes locked on Luxarion—the once-proud warrior of light turned executioner of flame.
"Then I'll take the light."
He rolled his neck.
"Let's see if the light can bleed."
Ren stepped forward next, calm as moonlight.
"That leaves me with the shadow."
His eyes narrowed as he stared down Dimitri.
"You've fallen far, Volkov. Let's see if there's anything left of the man you were."
Dimitri said nothing. The air around him hissed and cracked, reality bending under his armor's corrupted aura.
Aurelian chuckled softly.
"So... you choose your opponents like it's a game."
Soren smirked through bloodied lips.
"You'd be surprised how many games I've survived."
The two sides stood still, each warrior sizing the other up.
Wind howled.
Dust swirled.
The silence built like pressure in a sealed chamber, until finally—
Hakan raised a hand.
"No more waiting."
"Break them."
And the world tore apart.
THE SKY SPLIT. THE EARTH TREMBLED.
Six titans had risen. But the world wasn't prepared for this.
Hakan vs. Luxarion.
Soren vs. Aurelian.
Ren Tainlong vs. Dimitri Volkov.
And now… it begins.
Hakan vs Luxarion – The Clash of Light and Defiance
Golden winds exploded as Hakan shot forward like a cannon, fists clenched, air behind him spiraling into collapse.
Luxarion met him mid-air, radiant wings wide open, a blade of ethereal brilliance forming in his hand.
CLANG!
Their first collision shattered the clouds.
A sonic boom cratered the desert floor below.
Hakan's fist struck the blade—flames and light erupted in a violent spiral. Hakan twisted, using Iron Tempest, slamming an elbow toward Luxarion's side.
The holy warrior parried, but Hakan ducked low, Dragon's Fang spearing straight for the ribs—missed by a breath.
Luxarion narrowed his eyes.
"You shouldn't be alive."
"Then kill me." Hakan's grin was vicious.
"I'll wait."
Soren vs Aurelian – The Fallen Light and the Unbreakable Flame
Soren limped forward, black flames licking off his broken armor, his right arm half numb, ribs cracked.
Aurelian hovered like a god, golden-white auroras spiraling around him.
"You're bleeding from your soul, little flame."
Soren spat blood, smiling.
"Doesn't mean I'll bow."
Cinderstep Mirage.
He vanished—five afterimages exploded toward Aurelian, one from every angle.
Aurelian raised his hand. Aurora Dominion washed out in waves of glacial flame. All five mirages detonated, Soren emerging behind them with a growl—Hellpyre Severance ready.
SLASH!
It carved through Aurelian's aura—his arm flickered in pain. But the Elven Monarch snapped his fingers.
A flame-frost explosion knocked Soren back, crashing into a jagged cliff. Bones crunched.
Still—he stood.
Ren vs Dimitri – The Sovereign vs the Undead King
They didn't move. Not yet.
Dimitri raised his hand.
Gravebind Legion.
From beneath their feet, the ground fractured—dozens of skeletal, shadow-armored warriors erupted from black cracks, eyes glowing crimson. They moved like they remembered war—discipline, speed, fury.
Behind them, Dimitri's body was dissolving into mist.
Tenebris Shroud.
Then he reappeared above Ren.
Wailing Catacomb!
An entire graveyard exploded from beneath.
Tombstones. Wails. Ghostly hands dragging reality down.
Ren didn't move.
He simply dropped his sword.
"So this battle… is about authority."
Ren raised a single hand.
Imperial Grasp.
Golden rings flared from his palm.
They locked onto every undead warrior—and stopped them mid-charge.
Their bones creaked. Their movements froze.
Ren whispered, "Kneel."
And the army of the dead dropped, collapsing into dust.
Dimitri snarled, eyes blazing red. Dreadcraft Arsenal burst forth, twin scythes made of nightmare and silence forming in his hands.
He charged.
Ren didn't flinch.
Dominion Lock.
A golden cube dropped—Dimitri smashed into it, space contorting inside. Gravity flipped. Light blinked out. Inside that cube, Ren was God.
Dimitri howled and cracked the cube's edge. Abyssal Mirage swept over the battlefield, illusions and nightmares twisting the space around them. The cube cracked—Ren staggered.
Dimitri erupted forward again, swinging both scythes in a death-arc.
Ren was pushed back.
Until—
Dragon's Decree.
A golden dragon of pure aura curled behind Ren's back, and the world stilled.
Even the wind knelt.
Ren looked up.
Commandment Seal.
The rune appeared on Dimitri's chest.
"Sleep."
Dimitri froze for one second—but it was enough.
Ren punched, sending him spiraling through a canyon wall.
Meanwhile...
Soren — Pushed Beyond
Aurelian blasted him with Frostburn Aegis.
Soren flew, barely dodging, skidding across glassed sand.
His breaths were short. Blood dripping.
The black flames on his back had begun to change—tinges of white creeping in.
Every fifth strike… white flickered.
He didn't notice.
He couldn't afford to.
Voidflare Execution.
The orb of condensed black void formed in his hand. He threw it.
BOOM!
It exploded, vaporizing half the battlefield. Aurelian was thrown back, just for a second.
Enough.
🪓 THE LINE IS DRAWN
Back in the skies—
Hakan cracked Luxarion's shield with a rising uppercut.
"Come on, divine boy. I know you're stronger. Show me."
Luxarion growled, eyes flaring with heat.
"Then burn."
He unleashed a beam of searing light.
Hakan didn't dodge. He dove through it, fists raised.
CRACK!
His fist hit Luxarion's jaw so hard the heavens shattered.
The land itself groaned beneath them.
Sand had turned to soot. Light had vanished.
Ren Tainlong stood still, his breath even, his aura burning golden with pressure.
Dmitri Volkov floated, his eyes like bottomless pits, his scythes dragging against the air with a whispering hum, like bone scraping soul.
The wind stopped. The world held its breath.
Then it began.
Dmitri struck first.
Twin scythes slashed forward, arcs of shadow howling across the battlefield. Ren bent the air around him with a twitch of his fingers—Authority Over Force—the blades curved away unnaturally.
But Dmitri had already closed the distance.
A burst of Shadow Maw erupted behind Ren, jaws made of pure darkness attempting to devour his spine. Ren side-stepped—barely. He twisted, but—
Wailing Catacomb.
The earth split beneath him.
Hands of the dead dragged at his feet.
Ren gritted his teeth, raised a hand—
Imperial Grasp.
"Silence."
The undead stilled.
But a black rune exploded on his chest.
Marrow Curse.
Ren gasped. His vision flickered. His aura cracked, his magic slowed.
Every motion hurt. Every breath felt like decay crawling inside him.
Dmitri landed, the scythes vanishing and being replaced by a Dreadcraft whip, which wrapped around Ren's arm mid-cast, yanking him toward the necromancer.
SLASH.
A cut across Ren's cheek—soul-deep.
Ren retaliated.
"KNEEL."
Commandment Seal flared to life, Dmitri dropped to one knee involuntarily.
Ren slammed a palm forward—Dominion Lock.
A golden dome dropped on them both.
Inside the dome, physics bent.
Gravity twisted. Sound died.
Dmitri bared his teeth. "You're strong."
"But death… doesn't kneel for long."
The dome cracked.
Ren's veins were glowing gold, pulsing from the strain.
He was bleeding from his eyes now.
But he wouldn't fall.
Elsewhere — Seraphina Watches
High atop her obsidian throne at the edge of the portal, Seraphina Nyxthalia snarled.
The tide was shifting.
She could feel it.
Her connection to Luxarion and Dmitri was weakening.
The control cost was rising—like trying to keep a leash on firestorms and void serpents.
"Who… are they fighting?" she growled, eyes glowing violet-black.
She focused her mind—peered deeper into the battlefield.
Hakan Raihan.
Ren Tainlong.
"…No," she whispered. "Those aren't just soldiers. That's…"
Her lips curled.
"That's trouble."
"If this keeps up, I'll lose control of Luxarion and Dmitri entirely," she muttered, shadow mist coiling off her back.
"And if that happens… this entire war slips out of my hands."
She didn't realize it yet—but the prophecy was already in motion.
She turned—only to sense danger.
A burst of radiant steel sliced toward her.
Iffah Raihan, wrapped in ethereal flame, charged with her silver blade alight, Emaan Shah flanking her, Radiant Edge forming glowing knives mid-air and launching them in perfect arcs.
Xue Lian, Ren's top guildmate, descended from the clouds like a ghost of war, her body surrounded in threads of starlight energy—Lunar Warden.
Rhalvion, floating behind them, eyes narrowed, released bursts of healing energy like pulses of life itself. Wounds closed. Breaths steadied.
"Push forward," he said. "No one dies under my watch."
Then—
Alaric the Blade-Torn crashed down with a roar, kinetic energy bursting outward from every footstep. He spun through three dark elves with twin blades of vibrating force.
Kaelen followed, slamming into the battlefield with a ground-splitting punch, sending the enemy ranks flying like dolls.
They had arrived.
Seraphina smirked through her fury.
"You brought a whole circus just to die?"
She raised her hand—
Black tendrils erupted from the portal behind her, hissing, screeching.
"Come, then. Let me show you the abyss."
The desert had become a war zone of humans and monsters. But in the northwestern corner of that broken battlefield, amidst melted sand and shattered time—two titans stood face to face.
One, cloaked in ever-burning black flame, his breath ragged, but eyes locked in fury.
The other, a being of cosmic fire and crystalline frost, golden hair flowing like solar wind, standing as if untouched by the war around him.
Soren vs Aurelian.
Aurelian extended his palm lazily.
"Your flame… it flickers with defiance. Beautiful. Useless."
Dawnfire Requiem.
A miniature star bloomed in his hand—heat and cold merging in perfect destruction.
Soren's black flames flared violently.
He vanished in a Cinderstep Mirage, reappearing behind Aurelian with a flash of flame—
Hellpyre Severance!
His blade tore through Aurelian's armor—only to barely graze his shoulder.
Aurelian didn't flinch. He turned mid-spin.
Aurora Dominion.
Waves of color—like dancing lights over a dead sky—swept out in a ring.
Soren was caught mid-air.
Time fractured.
Sound twisted.
He felt his own heartbeat stutter.
Then he was slammed into the ground, buried beneath frostfire and momentum.
Soren exploded upward, black flame spears forming around him—Abyssal Bloom erupting like hellflowers across the field.
Dozens of them.
The sky filled with spinning petals of death.
Aurelian paused—watchful.
"Beautiful again," he whispered. "And still, useless."
He extended his hand again—Frostburn Aegis.
The blooms detonated.
Chains lashed out—trying to drain his power, snap through his aura, bind his essence.
Aurelian's barrier shimmered—absorbed it—
Then detonated in a blast of mixed fire and ice, launching Soren into a charred crater.
Soren gasped.
His ribs were cracked.
Vision blurring.
But still—he stood.
Staggered. But standing.
"Still fighting?" Aurelian raised an eyebrow. "How very… human."
Soren's eyes blazed white.
"…I'm not done."
Soren gasped.
His ribs were cracked.
Vision blurring.
But still—he stood.
Staggered. But standing.
"Still fighting?" Aurelian raised an eyebrow. "How very… human."
Soren's eyes blazed white.
"…I'm not done."
Soren crashed, skidding through stone and steel.
He coughed blood. Black and red.
He couldn't feel his left arm.
His body screamed to stop.
He heard Hakan's voice, echoing from a distant memory.
"If you're not dead... then you're still fighting."
He clenched his fist.
He rose again.
Black flames flickered…
...but white flames danced now too.
Unstable.
Uncontrolled.
But they were there.
Aurelian's expression shifted—just a fraction.
Concern?
Curiosity?
"What are you?" he whispered.
Soren smiled, despite the blood.
"I'm the fire your body fears."
He snapped his fingers.
Voidflare Execution.
The sky dimmed.
A black orb formed in his palm—like a star imploding in silence.
Aurelian's body tensed.
He whispered.
"Now that… might kill me."
The battlefield trembled.
The black orb of Voidflare Execution—Soren's ultimate technique—raced toward Aurelian like a collapsing star screaming through silence.
And for a moment, it looked like it would hit.
Even Aurelian's confident posture shifted, his stance tightening, hand rising.
Then—
A single step forward.
A flash of golden-blue light.
Aurora Dominion: Ascended Pulse.
Aurelian slashed through the orb with nothing but a trail of elemental will—frost and fire twisted into a cosmic blade of condensed law.
The orb imploded.
It didn't just shatter—it folded in on itself, sucked into nothingness like it had never existed.
The world cracked.
The pressure snapped.
Soren stumbled from the recoil, blinking in disbelief.
The battlefield howled as silence broke.
Then came the real storm.
"My turn." Aurelian's voice was like thunder through crystal.
He raised his hand high.
Dawnfire Requiem: Heaven's Core.
A miniature sun ignited again, but this time—it wasn't a sun.
It was a star collapsed inwards, condensed into a molten blue flame encased in radiant frost.
He hurled it.
Soren tried to dodge.
Too late.
BOOM.
The explosion didn't just hit—it folded the battlefield.
The very air screamed, light twisted sideways, gravity broke.
Soren was launched—body cracked, armor shattered, blood spewing from his mouth.
He smashed through three stone ridges and crashed into the fourth with enough force to cause a small quake.
He got up.
Wobbled.
Aurelian appeared before him in a flash—expression calm, voice like a verdict:
"You were never a match for me."
A fist to the gut.
CRACK.
Ribs broke.
Organs shook.
Another strike.
Another.
A kick to the jaw—Soren spun in the air like a ragdoll.
And still—Aurelian kept coming.
No hesitation.
No pity.
Just absolute superiority.
"Your fire is gone, blackflame. Now burn in my light."
He raised his hand for a final blast—Aurora Severance—ready to end it.
And then...
It stopped.
Aurelian's hand paused mid-cast.
His brow twitched.
"...What is this?"
Soren lay on the ground.
Unmoving.
But...
No longer bleeding.
The black flames around his body had vanished completely.
No smoke. No cinders.
Nothing.
But his wounds... were closing.
Ribs realigning.
Breath steadying.
His eyes still closed—but his body… was glowing.
Not in black.
In white.
A low hum filled the air—almost melodic.
Soft.
Pure.
Like the universe had gone quiet just to witness.
Aurelian stepped back, a flicker of uncertainty in his gaze.
And Soren opened his eyes.
White.
Completely white.
Not blind.
Awakened.
He stood.
No aggression.
No trembling.
Just clarity.
Soren looked down at his own hands.
Flames danced along his arms—white as frostlight, smooth as silk, with the heat of a sun's core.
But they didn't burn.
They healed.
He was being restored.
Even Aurelian hesitated.
"…That's not blackflame."
Soren tilted his head.
"No."
His voice was calm.
"…This is something else."
Aurelian narrowed his eyes. "What are you?"
Soren looked him in the eye.
"…The one who refuses to die."
He took a step forward.
The battlefield cracked beneath his foot.
And the white flames surged.
The desert was no longer a battlefield. It was a storm of gods.
White flames churned around Soren like the rebirth of a star. The heat didn't just sear—it purified. Aurelian stood across from him, frostlight eyes narrowed, his long silver hair flowing like strands of pale flame.
He could feel it now.
This wasn't the same Soren.
And that… intrigued him.
Aurelian raised a hand.
"I gave you mercy before. Now I give you war."
His aura exploded—frost and fire in perfect, devastating harmony.
A sky-colored storm twisted above them.
Reality bent. Ground shattered. Time warped in rings.
He blurred forward—
—only to be stopped mid-step.
A white ring of fire erupted beneath his feet.
Nova Cage.
The moment his foot touched the line, the storm above halted, frozen in a jagged ripple. Aurelian flinched.
"…What is this?"
Soren stepped forward, his white-flame cloak dancing around him.
"This is your prison."
He raised his hand. The ring pulsed. The air screamed.
Aurelian tried to teleport.
Nothing.
Tried to shift into phase.
Blocked.
Tried to conjure a dimensional flame spiral.
It rebounded—the frostfire twisted and exploded inches from his chest, blowing him backward in shock.
Aurelian gritted his teeth for the first time.
"You dare bind me?"
Soren didn't flinch.
"I've fought fire. I've faced darkness. I've stood against death itself. You? You're just... noise."
The duel began again.
Aurelian summoned spears of ice wrapped in aurora fire.
He hurled them with enough force to rip the air open.
Soren weaved through them—
—Cinderstep Mirage, but evolved.
The white flames left no afterimage—just silence, as if his very movement erased sound.
He appeared behind Aurelian—
Solstice Fang.
A white-flame blade, curved like a phoenix talon, sliced through Aurelian's back.
Aurelian screamed. Not from pain.
But from something deeper.
The blade had severed his elemental core.
His fire flared uncontrollably.
His frost surged out of sync.
Aurelian stumbled. His balance broken. His perfect harmony—destroyed.
"You... you cut my essence."
Soren didn't smile. He didn't gloat.
He advanced.
Aurelian roared, unleashing a dome of blinding energy.
"Aurora Dominion: Total Collapse!"
It should have burned him away.
Instead—Soren walked through it.
The white flames devoured the aurora.
Corruption peeled off the magic like ash in the wind.
🔥 Purity Incarnate.
Each step Soren took burned away centuries of Aurelian's perfection—his unnatural fusions, his twisted control.
Aurelian blinked—he felt weaker.
Soren? Only growing stronger.
Desperation.
Aurelian summoned all his strength, raised both hands to the sky.
"Dawnfire Requiem—Final Sunfall!"
A burning sun with a frozen heart tore into the sky, aiming to fall and erase everything.
The battlefield went white.
The desert cracked into a crater.
And at the center—
Soren stood. Arm raised. Catching the star.
His flames weren't lashing wildly—they were still.
Controlled.
"Your end begins now."
His body merged with the white flame dragon, now summoned from above, spiraling like a celestial serpent.
🔥 White Eclipse.
Soren's wings ignited—his eyes glowing with ethereal light.
He launched forward.
One second.
Six strikes.
Aurelian's arms, ribs, legs—cracked.
His frost burned. His fire froze.
Soren struck the final blow mid-air—a spinning arc slash that cleaved Aurelian through the chest.
The battlefield exploded in white flame shockwaves, warping the horizon.
Aurelian crashed.
Not just to the ground.
But into reality itself.
Soren landed—knees buckling.
Blood ran from his mouth.
He was still burning. Still healing. Still alive.
But Aurelian wasn't getting up.
Not yet.
Across the battlefield—Seraphina felt it.
She gasped.
"…They're breaking."
Her connection to Aurelian flickered.
Her lips trembled.
"Who are they...?"
Soren's flame flickered… then dimmed.
He stumbled, one knee hitting the scorched earth.
The heat around him faded. His breathing slowed.
His eyes, still burning faintly with white light, looked one last time toward the storm behind him—where Luxarion and the others still fought.
A whisper, barely audible.
Not a warning. Not defiance. Just resolve.
"Hold the line…"
And then, he collapsed—his body hitting the ground with a dull thud, flames finally extinguishing as unconsciousness claimed him.
The black dome of Nightmare Crucible pulsed over the earth like a tomb of despair.
Inside, light didn't exist.
There was no sky.
No time.
Just shadows.
And two men.
One was cloaked in unholy silence, shadow-steel armor whispering with a thousand lost souls.
The other?
A man who commanded the very laws of the world.
Ren Tianlong stood firm, his arms folded behind his back, the golden glow of his Authority Over Force humming from the soles of his feet like divine thunder rumbling in anticipation.
Across from him, Dimitri floated in mid-air, surrounded by ghostly legions, his body bleeding shadows. Crimson-black runes danced across his arms like veins of death.
"Ren," Dimitri rasped. His voice was no longer human. "You think your power means order. But order is a lie."
Ren's eyes narrowed.
"I don't believe in order," he replied quietly. "I believe in balance. And you…"
His gaze sharpened.
"You are chaos incarnate."
And then, the world exploded.
Dimitri raised both hands.
"Gravebind Legion!"
The cracked battlefield tore open. Corpses, skeletons, corrupted warriors bound in shadow-chains surged forth—hundreds—charging Ren with soulless howls.
Ren didn't move.
"Dominion Lock."
A cube of golden light fell from the sky and slammed over half the legion, freezing them in place. Ren turned his gaze—
"Fall."
—And his voice echoed with unnatural weight.
The front row of skeletons collapsed mid-run, their bones snapping under the weight of the King's voice.
But Dimitri was already there.
Abyssal Mirage.
The darkness thickened. Visions wrapped around Ren's head—false memories, twisted futures.
He stood alone.
He stood dead.
He stood defeated.
For the first time, Ren staggered.
His grip loosened.
Dimitri appeared behind him.
"Shadow Maw."
A massive jaw made of coiling darkness exploded from the floor, biting into Ren's shoulder—trying to steal his energy, his memory, his will.
The King dropped to one knee.
And smiled.
"You think you can erase me?"
He looked up. His eyes were glowing white-hot now.
"Commandment Seal."
A glowing rune appeared on Dimitri's shadow.
Ren whispered.
"Kneel."
And Dimitri—Dimitri Volkov—the fallen 7-Star Hero, dropped like a stone.
His face smashed into the cracked floor of his own nightmare.
The ground trembled.
But it wasn't over.
Dimitri screamed—and the Crucible responded. Shadows surged up around him, rebuilding his form with hatred.
"Wailing Catacomb!"
Tombstones erupted. Hands reached. Screams of the damned shook the dome.
Ren was pulled into the graveyard's illusion, his body gripped, his soul assaulted.
"You were once like me…"
Dimitri's voice came from everywhere.
"You stood where I stood. Why do you still pretend you're better? Why do they follow you and not me?!"
Ren's aura cracked for a moment.
Not because of the pain.
Because of the truth in those words.
"I stood where you stood," Ren answered softly.
"And then I chose to keep walking."
He stood. Golden light surged back.
"Authority Over Force: Absolute Layer."
A second field emerged—thicker, heavier.
All the shadows froze.
Even the tombs stopped screaming.
Ren took a breath. His voice was calm.
"Final Order: Sovereign Collapse."
The Crucible dome cracked.
Then shattered.
Everything collapsed inward.
The catacombs. The undead. Even the air was sucked into the golden-black void centered around Ren.
Dimitri howled, his shadows ripping away from his body.
And then—
Boom.
A shockwave erupted. The entire valley lit in gold.
Dimitri staggered backward, panting, his armor cracked.
Ren dropped to one knee, blood running from his mouth.
Both men were barely holding on.
One born of corruption.
One born of control.
And they charged.
No powers.
No magic.
Just fists.
And the war between a fallen hero and a true king continued.
Just two men.
One breathing with calm fury.
The other snarling through broken teeth and cracked armor.
Then—
They charged.
Their fists collided with a sound like thunder.
Ren spun low, sweeping Dimitri's legs from under him, but the necromancer twisted in midair and slammed his boot into Ren's jaw, sending him staggering back.
Dimitri roared, lunging again.
Ren ducked, slamming a palm into his gut, then driving an elbow into the side of Dimitri's neck. But the shadow-warrior barely flinched. He took the blow—then drove his forehead straight into Ren's.
Blood burst from both of their faces.
And still, they kept swinging.
Punches.
Kicks.
Knees.
Throws.
A brawl of kings—one who ruled through will, the other through wrath.
They tore across the battlefield, crashing into stone, shattering earth, slamming each other into the bones of ancient dragons.
And then—Dimitri stepped back, shadows trembling at his fingertips.
"…Enough," he growled. "Let's stop pretending."
He raised both hands.
"Wailing Catacomb."
Once again, the grave burst open beneath them—ghostly limbs rising from the shattered earth.
But this time—Ren didn't move.
He looked up.
"Imperial Grasp."
Golden light spiraled from his palm and snapped around Dimitri's chest like divine chains. The shadows that surged forward… halted mid-air.
Then shattered.
"Get out of the ground," Ren said. "Fight me. You or no one."
Dimitri gritted his teeth, snarling—and then suddenly, his eyes widened.
He froze.
A beat passed. Two.
His body trembled.
Seraphina's control… slipped.
And for the first time in years—
Dimitri Volkov blinked like a man.
"…She's using me," he muttered, barely above a whisper. "She's waiting… letting the elves die. Her army… when they fall, she'll rise. You're all—"
His eyes flickered.
"NO."
Dark veins pulsed down his neck.
Seraphina's voice echoed in his mind.
"Return to me, my knight of silence."
Dimitri shuddered violently—his body contorting, his shadow writhing.
Ren's hand lifted slightly, ready to speak a command—
But it was too late.
"SHADOW MAW."
A gigantic spectral jaw erupted from behind Ren, biting into his back with full force and sending him crashing through a jagged cliff face.
Dimitri floated above the broken ground now, his expression void of humanity again, eyes pitch black.
"You should've killed me when you had the chance, 'King,'" he hissed, voice layered with Seraphina's magic.
Ren climbed out from the rubble, blood running down his side.
"I don't kill pawns," he said, standing tall again. "I break the hand that moves them."
His aura reignited.
Dimitri raised his hands again.
And the battlefield was engulfed once more—
In shadows.
The black sky above Death Valley cracked with streaks of violet lightning as the portal pulsed wider, roaring with otherworldly energy. Shadows poured from it—thousands of them—dark elves, corrupted beasts, spectral wraiths, all marching under a single will.
Seraphina Nyxthalia stood at the edge of a jagged obsidian platform, her raven hair swirling in the wind like liquid night. Her crimson eyes flickered—focused. Alert.
She tilted her head slightly, lips curling into a cruel smile.
"…So," she whispered. "The chains on Dimitri… loosened."
Her fingers twitched.
"And Aurelian… is burning too much from me."
She exhaled—long, slow, almost tired.
"They're getting close. Too close."
"How annoying."
Her aura surged—black and violet fire spiraling upward around her, and from it bloomed a thorned throne of darkness where she sat, regal and untouchable.
And that's when they arrived.
Iffah, leading the charge, her silver armor gleaming despite the shadows—her sword burning with focused light.
Xue Lian, silent and elegant, her blue eyes focused, radiant spear in hand.
Kaelen, already stomping the ground to shatter terrain, his fists glowing with tectonic rage.
Alaric, blades in hand, aura condensed and sharp—his pain now purpose.
Rhalvion, floating above them, his presence an anchor of calm divinity, golden light emanating from his hands to keep his allies mended and standing.
Together—they struck.
Iffah moved first, her blade flashing with blinding light, a horizontal arc aimed at Seraphina's throat.
CLINK—
The sound of steel on air.
The blade didn't land.
It hung frozen mid-swing, halted an inch from Seraphina's skin.
She hadn't moved.
Not even blinked.
"You call that an opening strike?" Seraphina chuckled, lifting a finger. "Cute."
With a flick, a black shockwave burst from her, sending Iffah flying back into a mound of shattered stone.
Kaelen followed—Earthquake Fury, fists slamming into the ground, trying to collapse her footing beneath.
The ground erupted.
But Seraphina floated.
Still seated.
"Try harder, mountain man."
She raised her hand—and the rock below exploded upward, wrapping around Kaelen like chains and slamming him into the cliff wall.
Xue Lian hurled her spear—a perfect throw.
It screamed through the air with divine speed, and for a second, it almost looked like it would pierce her—
But just as it neared—
Seraphina smiled.
And time… slowed.
She simply reached up… and caught it.
With two fingers.
"…Nice craftsmanship. Poor intent."
She snapped the spear in half and sent the fragments back—faster than they came. Xue Lian barely deflected, the impact cracking her shoulder plate.
Alaric moved through the chaos, shadows hiding his approach. He came from behind—Dragonfang lunge, both blades aiming for her spine.
But Seraphina vanished.
Just for a moment.
Then reappeared behind him, her hand pressed against the back of his neck.
"Are you trying to sneak up on a predator?"
She blasted him with a pulse of darkness, sending him flipping forward into a heap.
Only Rhalvion remained still—his hands weaving golden rings of restorative light, reviving the team one by one.
She eyed him.
"…You're the quiet one. You seen qiuet familiar ."
Rhalvion didn't speak.
Seraphina rose from her throne—finally standing.
Her voice echoed like a curse.
"Let me make something clear—"
She held out both hands.
The sky above split—torrents of night flame raining down like apocalyptic comets.
"You are insects."
A burst of auroral darkness shot toward them—blending corruption and time decay. Iffah blocked it with a radiant shield. Kaelen punched it. Xue Lian sliced through one wave with her broken spear-haft.
But every block came with a cost—blood, pain, exhaustion.
Still, they stood.
Still, they fought.
Seraphina tilted her head, amused.
"…You're still alive? Huh. That's new."
She raised her hand again, summoning something deeper from the void.
Her eyes darkened further.
"If I have to start playing seriously—"
The sky began to twist.
The portal behind her pulsed brighter.
And her body began to glow.
"—you'll all die in five seconds."