The Sovereign's laughter rolled like thunder through the molten air.
"Do you feel it, Kael Rivenhart? This is what it means to hold dominion! Fire that devours mountains. Flame that sings in the marrow of kings."
The ground cracked and bled magma beneath his steps. Every swing of his molten arm sent searing arcs of fire through the air, cutting into stone towers and reducing them to ash. The battlefield itself warped under the weight of his aura—heat shimmer bent the horizon, the skies themselves burned red.
Kael stood in the storm's heart, Ashrend blazing crimson in his grip. His breath came hard, his chest heaved, but his eyes did not waver.
"You burn bright, Sovereign," Kael said, his voice like iron in the gale, "but even stars fall. And when they do, it is crimson flame that consumes them."
The Sovereign answered with violence. A wall of fire surged forward, molten talons reaching, grasping to tear Kael apart.
Kael moved. His blade cut a red arc through the blaze, aura surging, crimson and black lightning fusing around him.
"Crimson Rend!" he roared, slicing through the wall of fire. The clash tore open the battlefield, leaving a smoking scar across the scorched ground.
The Sovereign did not relent. He raised both arms, the molten rivers around him spiraling upward into burning serpents. They screamed with molten fury, slithering toward Kael with the weight of collapsing stars.
Kael's boots dug into the ground, his aura flaring.
"Crimson Tempest!"
He spun Ashrend, crimson winds howling into existence, clashing with the fire-serpents. The battlefield detonated—wind against flame, sparks against lightning—sending shockwaves that rattled the distant ruins.
Lyra and Darric, shielding themselves at the edge of the chaos, could barely hold their ground.
"He's… holding that monster back," Darric muttered, awe breaking through his grit.
Lyra's eyes never left Kael. "No—he's more than holding. He's pushing."
Inside the inferno, Kael's voice cut through the roar:
"You're no god, Sovereign. You're just another tyrant hiding in flame."
The Sovereign's molten body cracked, and for the first time, his eyes burned with more than pride—they burned with rage. He swept his arm, and a torrent of fire descended like a falling sun.
Kael lifted Ashrend, crimson lightning crawling down his arm. He met the sun head-on.
The clash was blinding—heat, light, sound—everything erupted in a storm that swallowed the battlefield whole.
When the smoke cleared, both figures still stood.
Kael's blade smoked with molten fire. His aura pulsed with wild fury, crimson light surging like a heart ready to burst.
The Sovereign's molten chest had cracked, revealing beneath it a core of pure flame, burning white-hot.
"This is only the beginning," the Sovereign growled. "Now… you face my true form."
The battlefield trembled.