The courtyard of the Air Kingdom's palace was a ruin of stone and fire.
Smoke choked the air, ash fell like black snow, and the world seemed to hold its breath as two figures carved destruction into the bones of the kingdom.
Kael sprinted across the fractured ground,
Boots striking sparks against broken marble.
His sword gleamed like liquid light,
Its edge catching the crimson glow of scattered flames.
Wind swirled at his heels, propelling him faster, until the very earth cracked beneath his speed.
At the center of the devastation stood Charles Ashborn III.
His hair, streaked with gray yet unbowed by age, framed eyes that burned with eerie amusement.
With a casual flick of his wrist, flames erupted from the shattered tiles, forming a spiraling dome of molten heat around him.
The fire coiled and hissed like serpents, a fortress of living flame.
Kael slowed, circling, gaze sharp,
His sword hummed with a sheath of wind, every swing leaving streaks of glowing air in its wake.
Sparks of violet lightning crawled along the blade, sharpening its presence until it seemed less steel than storm.
The fire dome swelled outward, forcing Kael to leap back, dust exploding under his landing.
His jaw tightened,
There was only one way through straight up,
With a burst of wind, he hurled himself skyward, cape whipping like a banner,
He soared toward the hollow gap at the dome's peak.
Charles' eyes followed him, calm, calculating.
"Bold,"
He murmured.
The flames twisted at his command, shifting into spiraling walls to intercept Kael's leap.
Kael's hand snapped open mid-air,
Eight thin lances of water shot forth, gleaming like crystal spears.
They streaked through cracks in the fire with lethal precision, hissing as they pierced both flame and flesh.
Charles staggered, blood dripping from eight wounds that sizzled on contact with the surrounding inferno.
For the first time, the old warrior gritted his teeth.
"You… planned this?
In a heartbeat?"
He chuckled darkly, flames already knitting his wounds shut.
"Impressive"
Yet useless,
You cannot kill me."
Kael landed lightly behind him, sword already blazing with fire stolen from Charles' own dome.
His eyes glowed crimson, voice sharp as a blade.
"Who said i wanna kill you"
Charles answered with laughter, his fists igniting.
He surged forward in a storm of flame, unleashing a barrage of strikes that pounded the palace like cannon fire.
Each blow was an explosion, scattering stone and sending shockwaves through the ruined halls.
Kael blurred through the inferno, lightning crackling at his boots, sword flashing to deflect streams of fire.
He ducked, rolled, and weaved yet every dodge carved deeper ruin into the palace.
Marble floors split apart, the ceiling groaned and collapsed, and statues of kings past toppled into dust.
In minutes, seventy percent of the palace was gone, reduced to rubble and firestorm.
Kael slid back across broken stone, panting, blade glowing with fire, wind, and lightning,
He raised it, pointing the edge toward Charles,
"Let's finish this." But Before the duel could resume,
"The Kingdom shook."
A deep, rolling tremor rumbled from beneath the palace, knocking Kael and Charles off-balance.
Shattered marble quivered, and dust cascaded from the last standing pillars.
Both combatants froze, instincts screaming.
Then the ground split,
Roots, gnarled and massive, erupted through the foundations, tearing apart what remained of the throne room.
They writhed upward like serpents, coiling, splitting stone as if it were sand,
Then came the roar.
It wasn't merely sound it was vibration, pressure, a resonance that shook marrow and made the air itself shiver.
Soldiers outside dropped their weapons, nobles fell to their knees, and even Charles' flames flickered under the weight of it.
From the abyss below, a shape rose.
Bark-like armor twisted into limbs, vines coiled as tendons, eyes glowing with sickly green malice.
A forest of decay bound into flesh.
Viridion, the Withering Grove, emerged from the palace's hollowed core, towering over ruins, its breath exhaling death.
Both Kael and Charles stared, battle forgotten.
For once, fire and storm stood united in silence, dwarfed by calamity.
Beyond the ruins, the kingdom itself fought to breathe.
Dust poured from the shattered palace into the streets, mingling with smoke and flame.
Nobles, servants, and soldiers alike scrambled to flee.
The ground quaked with every clash above, ceilings cracked, and walls threatened to crush the living beneath their collapse.
At the forefront of the chaos, three men braced the palace's weight to buy time.
They held trembling columns, their muscles straining, sweat pouring.
For a moment, it seemed the entire kingdom balanced on their shoulders.
Then a windstorm swept through.
From the broken gates descended Commander William, silver streaks glinting in his storm-tossed hair.
He landed with a force that sent rubble scattering, cloak of air rippling like a living shroud.
"Brother! The capital is in danger!"
His voice cut across the din like thunder.
King Aerion turned, his storm-blue eyes ablaze with command.
"Move them! Every corridor, every exit- get them out!"
His cape snapped violently in the elemental gusts that churned from Kael's battle above.
Commander Darius Valenor raised his blade, voice a calm anchor amid chaos.
"Soldiers!
Shields forward!
Keep tight formation!
Panic will kill them faster than the fire!"
Shields locked, spears bristled, and lines of soldiers surged into motion.
A soldier stooped, scooping a child into his arms as the crowd pressed forward.
"Stay close! We'll get you through!"
The royal guard surrounded Princess Aelina, blades shimmering faintly with mana as they cut through falling debris.
"Your Highness, this way! Stay close!"
Their movements were a deadly ballet, honed by years of relentless training.
The king watched, pride flashing beneath urgency.
These walls may crumble, but our people will not.
The great palace doors thundered open,
Releasing waves of civilians into the courtyard.
Soldiers herded them onward,
Shouting above the crash of stone.
"Move! Faster! Go!"
Dust thickened the air,
Mixed with the metallic tang of blood and the ozone bite of lightning.
Darius saluted sharply.
"Your Majesty,
The people are moving."
"Good,"
Aerion growled,
Eeyes narrowing as tremors rattled his throne city.
Keep them safe.
No one stays behind."
Above them,
Kael's crimson eyes gleamed from the shattered balcony,
His coat whipping in the gale.
Each movement radiated destruction
Each clash a storm.
Even from afar,
Citizens felt the sweep of his power.
Roaring winds, Spiraling embers,
Shockwaves that shook their bones.
Whispers swept through the crowd like wildfire,
"Is he human?"
"That's… the prince?"
"He looks like a deity…"
But relief was short-lived.
The tremors deepened, Rattling shields, Scattering civilians.
The soldiers froze as shadows fell across the city.
Three colossal silhouettes emerged on the horizon,
Vast enough to Dwarf towers.
One moved east,
One west,
And one south closing on the capital with predatory precision.
Their forms blurred with distance,
Yet their presence was unmistakable mountains that walked.
The first soldier to see them dropped his spear,
"Clamities…"
He whispered.
Panic rippled.
Nobles clutched children, servents prayed, and even veterans swallowed fear as the shadows grew closer.
The air itself seemed to bend around them, Heavy, Oppressive.
Commander William positioned himself between Aerion and the coming threat, Jaw tight.
"Your Majesty stay behind me."
King Aerion rose to his full height,
Voice booming like thunder.
"Form ranks!
Hold the line!
The Air Kingdom will not fall without a fight!"
Spears lifted,
Shields locked,
Soldiers bracing as if their bodies alone could stand against mountains.
William's voice followed,
Sharp and Unyielding.
"Shields up!
Spears steady!
We will not yield!"
The titans advanced,
Silent yet thunderous,
Every step cracking the earth.
Fear coursed through the gathered host,
Whispers rising like wind through a dying forest.
"What are they?"
"Not Clamities Right…"
"The kingdom is doomed…"
Three shadows of apocalypse closing on the capital.
Back in the ruins of the palace,
The roar of Viridion silenced all.
Roots sprawled,
Choking stone,
While its bark armored frame towered above Kael and Charles.
Vines writhed like serpents,
Dipping venom, Cracking marble with every lash.
Kael tightened his grip on his sword,
Lightning crawling across the blade.
Charles' flames flared higher,
His eyes narrowing as the monstrous form loomed above them.
Neither spoke,
The clash that had reduced the palace to ruin the firestorm,
The stormwinds,
The blood and rage halted in an instant.
Their duel had not ended;
It had been eclipsed.
Before them rose something beyond rivalry,
Beyond vengeance.
Viridion's roar split the heavens,
A sound vast enough to shake the marrow of the world.
A calamity,
Kael and Charles,
For the first time since blades had crossed,
Stood motionless two storms silenced by a greater shadow,
The true battle had only just begun.
To be continued...