The two figures stood motionless, like two stone statues deeply rooted in the earth. Their steadfastness made one believe that no force in the world could budge them.
Suddenly, both seemed to dissolve into the air, vanishing from the space in the same instant.
Before anyone could realize what was happening...
*CLANGGGGGGGGG!!!*
The sound of metal clashing echoed deafeningly, as if tearing the sky apart. Alwen's and Magnus's swords collided with such force that, even hundreds of meters away, people had to cover their ears to avoid their bodies swaying!
In mid-air, the two figures closed in. Magnus smirked with delight.
"Well... you're indeed stronger than before."
He tilted his head, his eyes flashing with malice.
"But that's... not enough!"
Magnus twisted his wrist sharply. From that motion, his sword swept a deadly arc, charging straight at Alwen's side with terrifying speed.
Alwen managed to raise his sword to block!
*BOOM!!!*
The impact numbed his arm. Even though he blocked it, his entire body was hurled back like a stray arrow, flying dozens of meters before stomping hard on the ground to halt.
Giving Alwen no chance to breathe, Magnus charged again. His sword tore through the air, thrusting straight at Alwen's position.
In that brief moment, Alwen's figure shifted to the side, light but fast enough to leave a blurry trail in the space.
*BOOM!!!*
Magnus's sword plunged into the ground. The power from the slash was so tremendous that layers of earth and rock were cleaved apart, revealing a long gash in the soil. Dust erupted along the cut, showing Alwen that if he had been half a beat slower... his body would have been split in two.
Alwen drew in a cold breath, his body trembling uncontrollably—not from fear, but from the terrifying pressure bearing down on him.
But in just one heartbeat... Alwen gripped his sword hilt tightly, his eyes sharpening.
He charged forward.
Taking advantage of Magnus still pulling his sword from the ground, Alwen spun, channeling all his strength into a slash straight at his flank.
"Haa!!"
Magnus immediately twisted his wrist, swinging his sword up to block.
*CLANG!!!*
The two swords clashed again.
The impact was so strong that both blades recoiled backward, sparks flying.
Not a moment of hesitation.
Both gripped their sword hilts simultaneously and lunged at each other fiercely.
*CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!*
A barrage of continuous slashes erupted.
Alwen twisted his wrist for a thrust, while Magnus leaned to dodge.
Magnus swept horizontally; Alwen raised his sword to block and countered from above.
◇
The onlookers were stunned, breathless.
They couldn't believe that someone as battered as Alwen could continue fighting so fiercely, each slash still powerful and decisive as if his body hadn't bled at all.
Even the soldiers who had been terrified and trembling at Magnus's appearance... now began to waver.
A few immediately ran away.
The rest...
They watched Alwen straining every muscle against the monster who had nearly destroyed the kingdom—and in their eyes, fear gradually gave way to something else...
Astonishment.
Trust.
And a faint, indescribable hope.
◇
Both defended and attacked simultaneously, weaving a dense web of sword paths that looked like countless streaks of light intersecting in space.
The metallic screech echoed off the stone walls and bounced back like the roar of hundreds of other swords.
The two swords clashed once more.
Both Alwen and Magnus gripped their hilts, pushing back against each other's force. The blades trembled violently, as if they too sensed the fear permeating the air.
Alwen's eyes held no light.
They reflected the pain of a warrior who had lost almost everything.
In the moment their swords locked, memories flooded back... the dead... the smiles once shared... the promises exchanged...
He remembered—
"THIS IS NO PLACE FOR YOUR REMINISCING!!!"
Magnus's roar exploded right beside Alwen's ear, startling him.
HE BRUSHED ASIDE ALL RESISTANCE!!!!
Swinging a ferocious slash as if to tear the world in two.
*BOOM!!!*
Magnus's sword swept straight into Alwen's, the impact so tremendous that it hurled Alwen—and the remnants of his memories—out of both fantasy and reality.
He was knocked back, his body slamming hard onto the stone floor, his breathing heavier than ever.
His sword had been knocked away, like the last hope extinguished.
Magnus advanced with heavy steps.
Each time his sword scraped the ground, it sparked red flames like embers from hell.
"I feel incredibly excited fighting like this!!"
His voice trembled with excitement, his smile widening.
"I LOVE this feeling, the feeling of giving others a ray of hope..."
Magnus tilted his head.
"...and then CRUSHING it mercilessly!!!"
He chuckled!
"I love planting dreams in their heads... and then tearing them apart piece by piece!!!"
Magnus lowered his stance.
His hand clamped around Alwen's neck, yanking him close enough that his breath blasted into the opponent's face.
His red eyes bored in, as if piercing the soul.
"Do you know how thrilling that feeling is, Alwen?!!!!"
"Do you know how... WONDERFUL it is?!!!!!"
Alwen didn't respond.
His consciousness was fading, leaving only the chaotic heartbeat and Magnus's roar in his ears.
With his last remaining strength, he reached a trembling hand for a nearby stone...
And smashed it hard into Magnus's head.
*CRACK!*
As expected, the stone shattered upon hitting his black armor.
Magnus paused for a second...
The expression on his face suddenly vanished.
No more smile.
No more anger.
Just a blank, cold face like a death mask.
Then he slowly raised his head...
And...
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!"
His laughter exploded like thunder, echoing across the battlefield, both mad and exhilarated, as if Alwen's desperate act only amused him more.
Everyone froze. No one could react.
Everything happened too fast... and too cruelly.
Magnus sank deeper into his own madness. He stood tall, his steel hands hooking Alwen's neck and lifting him high, squeezing so tight that the air seemed to shatter. Alwen's legs kicked weakly, his vision blurring, his breath caught in his throat.
His consciousness slipped away like a thread about to snap...
Then suddenly...
"MAGNUSSSSSSS!!!!"
A hoarse roar, filled with authority and rage, echoed like piercing the sky.
Magnus froze for a beat. He turned, his smile vanishing in an instant.
The owner of that shout stood there—
King Regalus!
No one understood how he could return. No one understood why a body so exhausted and powerless could stand firm, even advance, against the kingdom's most ruthless killer.
But he stood there. Breathing heavily. His eyes no longer held the gentle light of a monarch, but that of a father looking at a son who had strayed too far from the light.
Magnus smiled. This time it was slow, twisted, chilling to the bone.
He dropped Alwen like a discarded toy. The boy's body hit the ground hard, dust flying, and he immediately coughed in choking fits, desperately drawing air into his lungs.
Magnus didn't even glance back.
He stepped forward.
"Finally showing up to save your precious golden boy... old man?"
The king didn't respond.
He just stood there, thin, weak, breathing laboriously, but his eyes unwavering.
That gaze... finally made even Magnus pause for a beat.
King Regalus approached.
Not fast, not strong—just the feeble steps of an exhausted father. But his eyes remained locked on Magnus, not with hatred, only with lingering pain.
He spoke in a hoarse voice, each word fading with his breath...
"...Magnus... my son. Stop this. Come back... before you lose everything."
Magnus froze for a moment.
His sword hilt creaked.
*Crack* The mad smile couldn't hold on his face.
"...Old man!!" he growled, his voice trembling slightly. "You think a few words can save that brat? You think... you're still my father?"
His breathing grew heavier.
"I died... the day you banished me."
Regalus stopped before him, close enough that one swing from Magnus would fell him.
Yet he extended a trembling hand—a weak gesture, but full of resolve.
"I know you're in pain... I know I was wrong..."
His aged eyes gleamed with the last remaining light.
"But you... are still my son. Don't let hatred consume you anymore."
Magnus halted.
His whole body tensed, his breath caught in his chest.
Just for a fleeting moment, a tiny crack... truly appeared in those red eyes...
The air fell into absolute silence. No one spoke...
Then...
Magnus suddenly burst into laughter.
Not the mad laugh from before.
But an empty, chilling laugh that made the survivors' spines tingle.
"Haha..."
"...Better to let the darkness consume me..."
"...than return to your false light."
The moment he finished—
BOOM!!!
From the void behind Magnus, a black rift opened like a demon's maw.
A massive weapon, a pitch-black scythe as long as a church's height, its edge emanating a cold aura that absorbed surrounding light, fell into his hand as if waiting there all along.
Magnus gripped it tightly.
Veins bulged on his arm like roots.
He said nothing, swinging the scythe across the air.
Just one swing.
Nearby houses were sliced in half, wood and stone exploding like hellish fireworks.
Soldiers hiding for an ambush, just peeking out, turned into blurry red smears, dying without realizing they'd been cut...
The entire square sank into deadly silence.
King Regalus stood frozen.
Not from fear.
But from despair.
The wordless despair of a father watching his son plunge into hell, unable to pull him back.
Magnus spun the scythe, its tip aimed straight at the king's chest.
His voice dropped, full of mockery:
"Is this how... you treat your son?"
Without waiting for a reply, he raised the scythe high, its shadow enveloping the king like a death shroud.
The king... didn't dodge.
Didn't raise his sword.
Didn't defend.
He just bowed his head, as if finally accepting the end he felt he deserved.
Behind, the injured Alwen, gasping, blood on his face.
He dragged himself across the ground, ten fingers clawing into the stone to pull his battered body forward.
Breath ragged, voice fading...
"Don't... do it..."
"Don't... do that..."
"...don't..."
But Magnus heard nothing.
Or rather...
He chose not to hear.
The scythe began to fall.
Like a death sentence.
But as the scythe neared the king's head, it suddenly...
Halted—?
Magnus frowned, his hand still gripping the scythe hilt. He stared at the king's hands, his voice cold but laced with question.
"Your holy staff... where is it?"
The surrounding space fell into a terrifying silence. Everything stopped, from the black smoke columns, the flames, to the wind whistling in ears. All eyes, even those of the trembling soldiers, focused on them.
*CRASH!!!*
Suddenly, thunder exploded in the sky, shaking every stone and roof around. All witnesses looked up, eyes wide, hearts pounding.
From above, a burly figure like a giant warrior plummeted down at terrifying speed, trailing thousands of lightning bolts around his body. In his hand was the king's staff, emitting blinding light, like a divine arrow piercing the darkness.
Magnus startled, his eyes flashing rare surprise, but in a blink, he reacted swiftly, using both hands to lift the massive scythe, clashing with the staff from the sky.
The clash of metal and magic rang like thunder, compressing all light, sound, and power into one moment.
Alwen's eyes widened, reflecting the brilliant lightning flashes, his body trembling with shock and excitement. Every drop of sweat and blood on him sparkled under the light from the collision, making him feel the extraordinary power of both sides vividly.
◇
Earlier...
King Regalus, his body exhausted, was being supported by soldiers to a safe place. In his mind, hundreds of tactics and plans cycled endlessly, trying to find a way to stop Magnus before it was too late.
In the midst of fumbling, the holy staff he always carried suddenly fell to the ground. A soldier behind tried to pick it up, but despite using all his strength, he couldn't lift it. Another muttered:
"It's useless... it's a holy relic, not everyone can lift it easily!"
The king, distracted, was about to turn and ask another soldier for help, when suddenly a burly figure appeared from nowhere, striding steadily like a living mountain. In his hand, the holy staff seemed made for him, lifted effortlessly without strain.
He turned to the king, his voice deep but firm!
"I can help you, Your Majesty!"
The soldiers and witnesses stood stunned, eyes wide in astonishment, while the king, in his fatigue and surprise, could only stammer!
"You...?"
That moment was suffocating, as if the entire space awaited an explanation or the next action.