The battlefield was gone.
Where once stood stone and soil, only a burning void stretched outward—jagged fissures spewing fire, storm-wracked skies torn open by unending lightning. Kael stood amidst it, chest heaving, Ashrend's crimson edge dripping sparks of both lightning and blood.
The Sovereign advanced through the ruin without haste, every step making the ground crack as if reality itself obeyed him. His voice was iron, his gaze unyielding.
"You are strong, Rivenhart. But strength does not unmake law. The world is written in mandates—and I am their keeper."
Kael spat blood into the flames and lifted his blade.
"Then I'll tear your laws apart."
The Sovereign raised his hand, and the sky itself buckled.
"Mandate of Silence."
The storm went mute. Lightning froze in the air, thunder died before it could echo. Even Kael's own breath was smothered. It was as if the Sovereign had torn sound itself from existence.
Kael's eyes widened, his grip trembling. The stillness wasn't just silence—it was weight. His muscles screamed as though pressed beneath mountains. His knees nearly buckled. The storm around him flickered, choking in the still void.
The Sovereign walked closer, flames licking from his mantle.
"Your storm is noise. Blinding, chaotic, but empty. I bring silence—the end of rebellion."
Kael dropped to one knee. The crushing decree bent his spine, forced blood from his lips. His companions' faces flickered in his mind—Lyra's unflinching resolve, Darric's laughter, Isryn's haunted eyes.
He growled, forcing his body upright inch by inch.
"No…" His voice cracked, but it lived. His blade began to spark again, faint at first, then roaring. "You think silence kills storms? Storms break silence!"
With a roar that shattered the stillness, Kael ripped power from his blood, his aura erupting in a violent surge. His eyes burned crimson, arcs of black lightning coursing through the storm.
"Crimson Howl!"
The technique tore through the Sovereign's mandate, lightning screaming as sound returned in a deafening blast. Thunder slammed the heavens, shattering the silence with such force the ground itself screamed.
The Sovereign's eyes narrowed. A faint cut traced his cheek—his first wound.
"Impressive," he admitted. "But tell me—how many storms can you conjure before you break?"
And with a sweep of his arm, fire rose again.
"Mandate of Ruin."
The ground collapsed into rivers of magma, the air itself catching aflame. Towers of fire surged upward, hemming Kael in on all sides.
Kael roared back, charging headlong into the firestorm, Ashrend raised. His storm met the Sovereign's fire in a collision so vast that the land itself began to fall apart.