The Sovereign raised his weapon high. Flame coalesced into a crown above him, the very shape of his dominion.
Kael stood opposite, drenched in blood and stormlight, his crimson hair streaming like a banner of defiance. His chest heaved, every breath agony—but in his eyes was no surrender.
They clashed again.
The heavens themselves tore open.
Where flame struck, continents buckled. Where storm answered, oceans rose in walls higher than mountains. The battlefield was no longer earth or sky, but the raw chaos of creation undone.
And amid that chaos, Kael's companions raised their voices—screams, prayers, roars—each a lifeline to the man who bore the storm.
Kael heard them. And with that chorus echoing in his heart, he poured everything into the storm's next surge.