As the two Demon Lords closed the distance, Ercale struck first. His body flickered with arcs of lightning as he launched into a vicious triple-kick combination—one snapping low for Arkanis's leg, the second driving toward his ribs, the last arcing high for his head.
Arkanis reacted with mechanical precision. His staff swept down in a sharp diagonal to catch the low strike against its steel-shod base, then twisted upward, its shaft colliding with Ercale's shin to deflect the middle blow. With the same motion he flipped the weapon over his shoulder, the caduceus head snapping up to catch the final kick inches before it landed. Sparks exploded against the wood and steel, but the staff held firm.
"You feel weaker than before," Arkanis said calmly, even as his left fist suddenly ignited with flame. He drove it forward in a searing hook.
"Tch—" Ercale clicked his tongue, snapping his body backward out of reach. His hands hit the ground, and he coiled into a backflip before springing skyward. Midair, he clapped his palms together, lightning coiling violently between them before shaping into a jagged spear of energy. He thrust both hands forward, unleashing the beam.
Arkanis responded instantly. Planting his feet, he lifted his staff and whispered a spell. Air rippled outward as he conjured a resonant barrier—sound waves compressed into a shimmering dome. The lightning slammed into it, the energy crackling around its surface in a violent cage before dissipating with a shriek of static.
The arcane shield faded just as Arkanis shifted to counter, staff sweeping toward Ercale's airborne form—only to find him gone.
"Too slow," Ercale's voice cut from behind him, a kick already arcing toward his spine.
"Yes you are," Arkanis answered without looking. His staff butt slammed into the ground with a sharp crack, and in an instant he vanished, reappearing behind Ercale. His leg whipped out in a roundhouse kick.
Ercale barely managed to raise his forearms, but the blow still hammered him away. He shot backward through the air toward another building, stonework rushing up to greet him.
This time, however, he forced his limbs wide, lightning surging around him in erratic arcs. By charging his body with opposite polarities—positive across his arms, negative through his legs—he generated a magnetic field that dragged violently against the iron framework buried in the structure's walls. The force jerked him to a halt mid-flight, skidding him just short of impact, his limbs shaking from the strain.
He dropped to the ground with a growl, shaking out his aching arms, his eyes locked on Arkanis with venom.
*Damn it! I'm only at thirty-five percent of my full strength from 500 years ago… and he's always been the second strongest after me. This isn't an uphill fight—it's a mountain straight up a cliff face.*
Arkanis leveled his staff, his expression unreadable. "What's wrong? Are you not going to continue?"
Ercale steadied his breathing, his gaze narrowing. Slowly, he raised his right hand before his face, the skin glowing with an otherworldly indigo light. He pressed his index finger, middle finger, and thumb together, whispering through his teeth: "Krazulik."
The air beside Arkanis split apart with a thunderous rip. A rift tore open in reality, a swirling tear of night sky—strewn with stars, shifting with hues of deep blue and violent purple. From its depths, four glowing slit-pupiled eyes stared out.
Arkanis's grip on his staff tightened. "…Oh, that's just fantastic."
The rift heaved outward, and from it surged a monstrous form—an immense crocodilian beast, its indigo scales broken by luminous, star-flecked patches that shimmered like constellations. The creature opened its cosmic maw, fangs glowing with voidlight, and lunged with a roar to clamp down.
But instead of the wet snap of bone or the tearing of flesh, the air rang with a violent crackle of energy. Ercale's eyes narrowed as he saw the truth—Arkanis had woven together a bulwark of layered sorcery, each element braided into the next. Fire roared, wind howled, stone surged upward, thunder snarled, and the crushing weight of gravity pressed down, all coalescing into a shimmering barrier that locked the beast's jaws apart before they could close.
"You've gotten stronger," Ercale admitted, his tone edged with both grudging respect and mounting frustration.
Arkanis said nothing at first. His free hand began to glow with the same deep indigo as Ercale's, though steadier, more refined. Energy pulsed outward, folding and spiraling in patterns too precise to be chance. It condensed into a sphere that shimmered with the likeness of a night sky, tiny constellations flickering within. With a sharp thrust of his palm, Arkanis unleashed it—an astral burst that tore into the summoned beast.
The creature writhed as its star-strewn scales split apart under the impact, fragments of cosmic light scattering like glass shards across the battlefield. Its vast form convulsed once, twice, before unraveling into nothing, dissipating back into the rift from which it came. The tear in reality sealed shut behind it with a low, echoing hum.
Arkanis finally turned to face Ercale fully, his staff lifting. "Thank you for noticing," he said coldly, though his voice carried a fatigue that belied the words. "Now… it's time for you to die again." At the crown of his staff, multiple magics converged—flames spiraled with currents of air, arcs of thunder twisted with stone fragments, and invisible pressure warped the very air, all gathering at a single point of destructive potential.
Ercale, however, did not rush forward. His body shifted, flickers of electricity running across his limbs as his stance lowered. "Not going to be as easy as you think," he muttered. Then, with ruthless pragmatism, his form dissolved into pure lightning. In an instant, he shot upward, streaking into the storm clouds above and vanishing from sight, leaving only the sharp scent of lightning in his wake.
Arkanis stood motionless, staring at the spot where his rival had stood only moments ago. Slowly, he lowered his staff, his gaze dropping to the broken street beneath his boots. "A decisive victory," he murmured, almost in disbelief. His magenta eyes dimmed with a flicker of something unspoken. "One I never thought I'd achieve against you." He exhaled, the weight of his words heavy, his shoulders sinking slightly. "Nor was it something I ever wanted to accomplish…"