The fortress shook with every clash. Stone cracked, torches guttered, and shadows writhed like living things. Rondan's blade burned in his grip, crimson flame spilling from its edge, while across the ruined hall the Masked Commander stood unyielding, his runes glowing with a blinding silver light.
Every strike Rondan unleashed met a wall of power, sparks raining across the shattered floor. His body screamed with pain, yet the fire within him refused to be extinguished.
> "You fight as though destiny itself bends to your will," the masked man's voice echoed, distorted, neither young nor old. "But destiny is a chain, Rondan—and you are already bound by it."
Rondan spat blood, his crimson eyes blazing.
"Then I'll burn the chains themselves."
With a roar, he surged forward. His flames twisted, not just a weapon but a dance—a spiral of heat that struck from every direction at once. For the first time, the Masked Commander staggered, his runes flickering like dying stars.
The crowd of soldiers and shadows that had gathered around the battlefield gasped, their whispers rising into a chorus of awe and fear.
But just as victory seemed within reach, the commander raised his hand. The runes etched into his armor pulsed violently, and the very air fractured. From the cracks poured a black flame, colder than ice, older than memory. It consumed Rondan's fire in an instant, forcing him to his knees.
> "The Forgotten Flame does not belong to you," the commander said. "It belongs to the abyss beneath all worlds."
The black fire spread, swallowing light, swallowing sound. Rondan's vision blurred, his strength waning—but in that suffocating darkness, a faint voice whispered.
It was Leina.
"Don't let it take you… Remember—the flame is yours. Not theirs."
His chest heaved. His crimson eyes ignited once more, brighter, fiercer, as if the very core of his soul had caught fire. Slowly, painfully, he stood again, his blade trembling in his grasp.
The commander tilted his head, as though intrigued. "So the catalyst endures…"
The clash resumed—flame against shadow, crimson against black. Their powers collided in a storm that shattered stone and split the night sky itself.
And when the smoke cleared…
Only silence remained.
Neither Rondan nor the commander could be seen amidst the ruins.