Nero held Gerald's gaze without flinching as they stood across from each other in midair. The general slowly raised his long, golden sword, and his radiant eyes never left Nero for a moment. Nero let his own blade hang casually at his side and bared his teeth.
The weapon he carried was an artifact he had possessed for an exceptionally long time. It could channel and shape his magic just as Gerald's sword could, yet it had long ceased to be strong enough for the full force of Nero's power.
Because of that, he had Ramor cover the blade in symbols that enhanced the sword's effect. Most of these markings, however, were active symbols. They lasted only for a limited time, unlike passive ones that had no such constraint. The advantage was that active symbols did not require the Symbolic artist to give up life force.
Ramor had already sacrificed enormous amounts of his lifespan when inscribing symbols on the fortress walls, and Nero did not want to risk losing the already elderly Polykenas. Ramor was likely the most valuable of all Nero's subordinates.
Xersies served as his direct lieutenant, yet Ramor's importance was unmatched, and unlike Xersies, there was no one who could replace him.
There were, of course, other Symbolics in the army, but none of them possessed even a fraction of Ramor's talent. To compare them was like comparing someone who could see in three dimensions to someone restricted to only two. Such a replacement could never reach the same level of understanding because they would perceive nothing beyond flat surfaces.
Even so, the symbols on Nero's blade would remain active for several hours, which was more than enough time.
"I will give you one last chance," Gerald declared suddenly. "Surrender now. Tell me where my daughter is, and I swear on my name that I will spare your life."
Nero was caught off guard by the offer, though he did not show it. His expression remained cold. "Your daughter matters so much to you that you would spare me, the greatest enemy of humankind?"
Gerald growled. "I would do anything to save my daughter."
Nero did not respond for a long moment. Gerald hovered opposite him, sparks in his eyes, yet Nero finally spoke. "That is not entirely true. When she needed you the most, you were behind the walls doing nothing." He tilted his head slightly. "Why?"
Gerald had not expected the question. It truly seemed to interest Nero, who had not felt affection for anyone in an extremely long time.
Now Gerald was the one who remained silent. His head lowered slightly as if in shame, yet his gaze stayed firm. "Because protecting this city and its people was more important. Because upholding our faith was more important. I cannot abandon my duty for selfish desires. I am bound to the city of Gloris, to its citizens, to the holy Luis, and above all to the great Sun God."
Nero burst into loud laughter. "You humans and your fanatical faith. It dictates how you eat, how you drink, how you sleep, and how you wake. It dictates whom you may love and whom you must hate. It dictates how your life should unfold and how it must end. Your entire existence is controlled by it. You cling to beings who supposedly watch over you from high above, beings you call almighty, yet they let you suffer and die and you call it a divine test. I pity you. I pity your naivety."
"How can a man fall so far?" Gerald asked through gritted teeth. "How can someone develop such hatred for the light? How can a human become the enemy of his own kind?"
Nero stared at him. His black eyes were endless and piercing, and Gerald once more felt as if he were not looking at a human at all, but into a bottomless abyss. And the abyss looked back.
"I do not kill because it brings me joy. I do not destroy because I enjoy the ruin. I act because it brings me closer to my goal. It is simply the fastest path," Nero replied calmly.
"And your goal is?"
Nero allowed himself a faint smile. "To become a god."
Gerald looked at the seemingly young man and understood that he meant every word. He saw it in those black eyes. If Nero was not stopped, he would unleash devastation upon everything that existed. In that moment, Gerald realized he was no longer fighting for his daughter, nor for Gloris, nor for himself. He fought for everything. He had to stop this monster wearing human flesh, no matter the cost.
He raised his large sword once more and attacked without another word.
He shot forward with incredible speed while Nero drifted back. Gerald lifted his golden weapon and struck, but Nero parried the blow. Light and darkness burst outward as the two blades collided, forcing both fighters apart. They lunged at each other again immediately.
Nero moved with swift, precise cuts. Not a single motion was wasted. Gerald fought with overwhelming force and unwavering determination. They were opposites in every way: strength against agility, good against evil, light against darkness. One walked the path of destruction, the other the path of salvation. Their beliefs clashed just as fiercely as their swords: one trusted in an almighty god, in light and the future; the other believed in nothing except himself. One valued every life equally; the other saw everything as a tool to reach his ultimate objective.
Their bodies fought the same battle as their beliefs. Their clash lacked the overwhelming spectacle of Xersies and Luis above them, yet it carried far more intensity.
Sparks sprayed from their blades as they struck again and again. Darkness pressed in on Gerald from every direction while a golden shield of light encased him. Nero attacked Gerald's leg, but the general blocked and punched Nero across the face. Nero turned with the impact. His sword was too low for a strike, so he used the rotation of his movement and slammed a shadow-covered fist into Gerald's protective barrier.
The shield flared brightly, but Nero forced more magic into his strike. Shadows increased their pressure until the barrier finally shattered. Gerald seized the opening and brought his golden blade down on Nero's shoulder. The already injured flesh barely resisted, and the sword severed the arm cleanly. Blood sprayed from the wound where Nero's arm had been, yet he did not react to the pain. He swung his remaining hand outward while his broad black wings carried him away from the general. Shadows wrapped around the falling sword and pulled it into Nero's left hand. He lunged at Gerald again immediately.
Gerald raised his sword to defend himself as Nero delivered strike after strike. His technique was noticeably rougher now, since he was far more skilled with his right hand than his left, yet he remained an extraordinarily dangerous swordsman.
Gerald found more breathing room and countered with bursts of golden light. Nero was pushed back step by step. Cuts accumulated across his body, though his expression remained composed.
Cracks spread across his arm as the pressure mounted. Eventually, he made a mistake. He struck at Gerald's side, which the general had intentionally left open. Nero's blade found a gap in the armor that had already been damaged in many places. With a sickening sound, the blade pierced Gerald's side. The general did not retreat; instead, stepping even deeper into the weapon, which now pierced completely through him, but the general seemed not to care, raising his own blade in response and ramming it into Nero's chest.
Blood splashed outward when Gerald stabbed through Nero's heart. Yet Nero also showed no signs of panic. Instead, a faint smile formed as his sword detonated. Darkness suddenly erupted as his blade shattered inside Gerald. Too much power had been forced into it at once. A massive hole tore into Gerald's body, destroying the entire right half of his torso instantly. Still, the general clung to life. With the last of his strength, he flooded his golden sword with magic until it began to shine.
If I die, then so do you, he thought. His lungs were already shredded, leaving him unable to speak the words.
The golden light threatened to consume Nero's body. But suddenly cracks began to spread across his entire body, reaching from his limbs to his chest and stopping just before his magical heart. Darkness seeped from the wound. With his remaining strength, Gerald saw the faint smile on Nero's bloodstained face. Nero had tricked him. Both had been prepared to impale themselves to end the battle, yet Nero had been more prepared. He had wounded himself before Gerald's blade reached him, allowing him to protect his vital organs with concentrated darkness. Even so, it had cost him nearly all his remaining magic to survive the general's final attack.
The risk had been enormous, but in the end, Nero emerged victorious. The lifeless body of the general of Gloris, revered and beloved for so many years, slid slowly off Nero's sword. Even in death, he held his weapon tightly, which, as the remains of Gerald's body were pulled toward the earth's surface by gravity, was brutally torn from Nero's body, who no longer had enough energy to protect himself.
A Polykenas flew toward Nero in the final moment and caught him as he collapsed. Darkness tightened around him; his wings faded as he finally lost consciousness.