The clash of steel against burning ash filled the cavern. Rondan's blade struck again and again, but for every Guardian that faltered, another stepped forward, their ember-lit bodies unyielding, chained to their ancient duty.
His breath came ragged, sweat and soot streaking his face. The crimson glow in his eyes sharpened, not dimming with exhaustion, but intensifying with something far older, far more dangerous.
Leina dodged a crushing strike, her cloak singed by the fire that burst from a Guardian's sword.
"Rondan!" she shouted. "You can't hold them forever—the chain itself feeds them! Unless you sever its link, they'll never stop!"
Rondan staggered as a blade grazed his side, sparks flying from the impact. Pain seared him, but deeper than the pain was the voice—low, resonant, curling through his veins like molten iron.
"Catalyst… break them… burn them…"
He froze for a heartbeat, his grip trembling on the hilt of his sword. The same voice from his dreams, the same fire that whispered every time his rage surfaced. It was no longer distant. It was here. Awake.
The Guardians pressed in, their circle tightening, and one struck with a downward blow meant to cleave him in two.
Rondan raised his blade—not by choice, but by instinct.
The air cracked.
A roar of flame burst outward, not his own aura, but something deeper, ancient, as if the earth's molten core had risen to the surface. Crimson fire surged from his body, spiraling like a storm. The Guardian's blade shattered on impact, its body igniting into a pillar of cinders before crumbling to dust.
Leina shielded her face from the blast, eyes wide in shock.
"That… that isn't your power."
Rondan's chest heaved, the fire crawling across his arms, branding his flesh with shifting runes that glowed like molten scars. His voice, when he spoke, carried both his own tone and the echo of something monstrous.
"No… it's the Forgotten Flame."
The cavern shuddered violently, the colossal chain glowing brighter as though resonating with him. The Guardians faltered for the first time, their burning forms recoiling from the storm of fire now raging around him.
Rondan gritted his teeth, fighting to keep control as the flame begged to consume everything—enemy, ally, even himself. His crimson eyes burned brighter, caught between defiance and surrender.
"I won't… be your puppet."
With a roar, he drove his blade into the cavern floor. The unleashed fire erupted in a wave, tearing through the circle of Guardians. Stone split, pillars cracked, and the cavern filled with light as ancient ashes finally turned to nothing.
Silence fell.
Only Rondan remained standing, his sword buried in the fractured stone, his body trembling, smoke rising from his shoulders. The runes along his arms faded, but not completely—they lingered, faint and ominous, like scars that would never heal.
Leina stepped forward cautiously, her silver eyes narrowing.
"You've touched the fire… and it answered you."
Rondan lifted his gaze, his crimson eyes dimming back to their usual glow, though the storm within them had not passed.
"Then the chains aren't just holding the Forgotten Flame… they're holding me too."
The cavern gave one last groan, as if the world itself acknowledged his words.