The ground trembled. From the Sovereign's shadow stepped figures that did not move like the cinderborn throng. They walked with purpose, each stride heavy with power, their molten forms clad in blackened steel fused with living fire.
The Ashen Lieutenants.
Six in total. Each one radiated a heat that warped the air around them, their weapons forged from the Sovereign's own flame. Where the cinderborn were rabid beasts, these were executioners.
Lyra's eyes widened, her bowstring drawn but her voice taut.
"Kael—these aren't like the others. They're commanders."
Kael didn't falter. His grip on Ashrend tightened until the leather groaned. His crimson aura pulsed, answering his will, surrounding him in a haze that made the air crackle.
"They fall the same."
The first lieutenant lunged, wielding a great axe wreathed in molten fire. Its swing could have cleaved a house in two. Kael met it head on, Ashrend striking the haft. The clash boomed like thunder, sparks erupting in a storm. Kael's feet dug into the scorched ground, and with a twist of his wrists—
Crimson Sever!
The axe shattered. The lieutenant's molten body followed, splitting in two as Kael cut through its core. It dissolved into ash, but the others surged in, unshaken.
Two came at once—a spear thrust from the left, a hammer crashing from above. Kael ducked low, aura bursting out. The spear glanced harmlessly off his guard as he rolled forward. Ashrend carved upward in a diagonal blaze, cleaving through the hammer and into the wielder's torso. The molten figure shrieked as its form crumbled, molten blood spilling like lava across the ground.
The spearman snarled, retreating back into formation.
Kael didn't pursue. He stood, aura flaring higher, Ashrend humming in his grip. His companions tightened their circle, each ready, but Kael's presence was the axis on which the fight turned.
The Sovereign's laughter rolled like an avalanche.
"Yes. Break them. Break everything. Show me what you are when there is nothing left to cut but me."
The four remaining lieutenants struck in unison, flames roaring like a storm. One's blade burned brighter than a forge. Another hurled chains of molten iron. The third wielded twin daggers dripping with fire, too fast for mortal eyes. The last raised a shield so heavy it warped the ground beneath his steps.
They came for Kael together—an execution meant to bury him beneath overwhelming weight.
But Kael moved.
Riven Fang!
Ashrend swept in a blazing arc, severing the chains mid-flight. He pivoted, catching the dagger strikes with his aura-coated guard, sparks biting at his cheek. A kick to the ground launched him skyward, Ashrend raised high.
He came down like a meteor.
The shield-bearer met him, bracing. Kael's aura screamed, black lightning arcing along Ashrend's edge. The impact thundered, cracking the shield in two and blasting molten shards across the battlefield. The lieutenant collapsed beneath the force, its body crushed into ash and cinders.
Kael stood above the ruin, breathing steady, eyes aflame.
"Three left."
And still his aura grew.
The Sovereign's masked gaze watched, patient, unblinking.