While Belon was tightening his control over the situation, from behind the dust of the raging battle, one of Miron's young rebel followers rushed forward. He was trembling, his eyes filled with tears of fear and blind loyalty. He let out a muffled cry as he raised a crystal dagger, trying to drive the blade into Belon's skull from behind.
But tension ruled the moment — the young man's foot slipped. Instead of striking Belon's head, the blade pierced his left shoulder and drove deep into his back.
Belon (roaring in pain):
"AAAAAGH!"
With the reflexes of a seasoned technician, Belon twisted his body. With his uninjured hand, he drew his crystal sword and thrust it directly into the attacker's chest. The young man fell dead instantly. Belon dropped to his knees, red blood staining his armor, while Miron still lay on the ground, his leg shattered.
A funeral-like silence filled the warehouse for minutes, broken only by the hiss of flames and the cracking of crystal. Then, fueled by old hatred, Miron began to crawl — then slowly stood, leaning on his broken sword, his eyes fixed on the wounded Belon.
Miron (breathing heavily):
"Look at us, Belon… the obedient engineer and the rebellious insurgent, both bleeding on the same ground. Is this the 'order' you protect? A system that leaves us to devour each other in the dirt while the king enjoys his palace?"
Belon (struggling to stand, blood dripping from his back):
"Order is not a king, Miron… it is the dam that prevents the wilderness from swallowing the city. You don't fight for justice — you fight because you lack the courage to endure building, so you choose the ease of destruction."
Miron lunged at him despite his injured leg. Their swords clashed, releasing a blue spark that lit the warehouse's darkness. It was not only a physical fight, but a collision between two worlds.
Miron (pressing his blade forward):
"Patience? How can I be patient while children freeze to death because heating energy is reserved for palaces? The obedience you preach is slavery wrapped in logic! You are not an engineer — you are a prison guard!"
Belon (pushing him back):
"And the freedom you preach is chaos that will kill whoever remains! If Medon falls today, who will stop the barbaric tribes from invading Crystallis? You? You don't know how to run a heating furnace — how will you run a city?"
They exchanged blows with a ferocity the companions had never witnessed. Miron fought like a storm, his movements wild but fueled by the anger of oppressed generations. Belon fought with engineering precision, deflecting strikes with minimal effort, treating each motion as an equation to solve.
Miron (striking downward):
"We will govern with dignity! Even if we live in tents, we will be free! Dying for change is nobler than living under the ruler's boot!"
Belon (dodging and cutting Miron's arm):
"Dignity does not feed the hungry, Miron! You sell them illusions for the sake of your personal revenge. You use your family's corpses as fuel for your engine of destruction. You don't love the people — you only hate the ruler!"
Miron (shouting with burning tears):
"How could I not hate him?! They tore my mother from my arms because my father hid a handful of crystal to keep us warm! Does your beautiful engineering justify slaughtering an innocent woman?!"
Belon paused for a moment, sadness filling his eyes.
Belon:
"No… it does not justify it. But if you destroy the city, you will kill a thousand more mothers. I choose to protect the thousand — you choose revenge for one. That is the difference between a statesman and a gang leader!"
The fight escalated into madness. Belon began losing balance from the wound in his back, and Miron's body was failing him. Miron's sword fell, and they grappled with their hands, rolling across shards of glass and blood.
Miron (choking Belon):
"Die with your master! Go to hell with him!"
Belon (stabbing a small dagger into Miron's side):
"I do not die for Medon… I die so the light remains burning in the homes of the innocent!"
At that moment, the separating wall finally shattered from the explosion set by Belon's men. Ortenos and Nirar emerged, witnessing the overwhelming scene: two men lying in a pool of blood, gripping each other's collars, embodying humanity's eternal struggle between "harsh stability" and "bloody change."
Ortenos (in shock):
"Stop! Enough bloodshed!"
But Belon and Miron did not hear him. They were in another world — a world where only their words existed.