The battle was instant.
Dante met the blast head-on, his blade carving through rubble as if it weighed nothing. Kael's shadows wrapped around him, turning his form into smoke and speed.
Elira rose from the ash, fire whirling around her like a living serpent. She launched forward, striking the corrupted Inquisitor with a punch that cracked the air.
He flew backward, smashing into an old wall — but he stood with ease, bones snapping back into place.
"You're too late," he grinned. "The Ember Vault has already been marked."
Elira's eyes burned. "Lies."
"I saw the future," he spat. "I saw your line ending in flame, begging the Council for mercy."
"You saw wrong," she replied coldly.
She summoned the full strength of her gauntlet — the new Ember sigils roared to life. The fire wasn't wild anymore. It bent to her will, a weapon, a shield, a roar of legacy.
Kael trapped the Inquisitor's limbs with dark sigils while Dante cut off his escape routes. Elira leapt high, her fist glowing like a small sun.
She struck.
The ground shattered beneath the force, a crater forming in the earth.
When the smoke cleared, the Inquisitor was gone — nothing but soot.
But the damage had already been done.
In the heart of Emberreach, a signal had been triggered. A flare of magic, invisible to all but the Council's Seers.
"They know," Elira whispered. "The flame is no longer hidden."