The old temple was strewn with bodies, some still clinging to life, as a woman tended to them. In the hand of a lone soldier, a kindling flame ignited. He swept it across his blade, engulfing his sword at once in the flame, and charged towards the enemy before him.
The so-called king of this land merely smiled, "Fall."
With that one word, the soldier fell to his knees.
"I expected more from the great hero of the West," the king said, holding back laughter. "But I suppose it was all just rumors. A shame we couldn't make peace, though your people never truly wished to negotiate with the likes of me."
The soldier staggered to his feet, his trembling hands barely lifting his sword from the ground. Raising his eyes to meet the king's.
" hehe…sorry to disappoint you," his voice ragged as blood began to drip from his mouth, "I could never live up to such rumors, but I will be the one to end you."
He dropped his sword and raised his arms, in a single motion, hurling a surge of water from his left hand and a blistering fireball from his right. Both attacks struck the king simultaneously, erupting into fog. Two of the supposed fallen men had gotten up and rushed at the king, blades aimed at his throat. The king blocked the attack from one with his spear and caught the other in his hand, using a gust of wind, stopping his sword from slicing his hand in two. The king grabbed the man from his right and slammed him into the other, sending both sprawling across the stone floor. As this had been happening, the woman tending to the dying used the last of her strength to heal the soldier's legs.
" vi chi vemro kiban sofi vecto el la to"
The soldier chanted a forgotten language while snatching up his flaming blade and lunging towards the king. The king raised his spear to meet him. The sound of metal rang out throughout the temple, sending sparks through the air. The soldier aimed for any point that seemed unguarded, yet in an instant, the king's spear would already be in this way. He slashed to the right, but the king forced his blade to the ground using the tip of the spear. Blow after blow, neither could land a hit on the other. Finally, the king's spear pierced the soldier's leg. Flinching at the pain, he grabbed the spear hilt and used everything he had to go for the king's stomach. Stabbing him in his chest, driving the sword as deep as it could go. The king's body began to melt into the sword. His body twisting, flesh burning as the blade consumes him. Yet before the king was taken over by the spell, he had pressed his hand against the soldier's face. Burning it with the last bit of strength he had left as a final act of defiance.
As the last of the king melted away, the hero collapsed to his knees. No longer having the ability to stand any longer, his body broken, mind exhausted, but they had gained victory.