The battlefield was chaos incarnate. Smoke coiled in the air like angry spirits. Fire gnawed at the edges of trees, and the stench of venom, blood, and burned earth coated every breath. Warriors clashed steel to bone. Arrows rained. Magic screamed. But in the eye of the storm, there were only two.
Luciano.
Catalina.
Brother and sister. Born under the same blood moon. But only one could wear the crown.
Catalina's eyes glowed bright emerald, like venom solidified. Her skin cracked with energy, golden veins pulsing across her arms like cursed lightning. The Golden Poison consumed her completely now. She hovered inches off the ground, not walking—gliding. Above her, the sky swirled into a golden cyclone. Time seemed to bend around her presence.
Luciano stood firm, battered but burning with purpose. His armor glinted with crimson streaks—his blood, yes, but also war paint from the rituals of his ancestors. He whispered their names beneath his breath, calling on their strength.
Then he stepped forward.
Sword raised.
"Catalina," he said. "This isn't you."
"You're right," she snarled. "This is what I should have always been. No more mercy. No more weakness. No more family!"
She lunged.
Their swords met in a clash that shattered the ground beneath them. Lightning cracked across the sky. The jungle screamed. They traded blows, power for power, speed for rage. Every strike from Catalina came with a hiss of poison mist; every counter from Luciano came with firelight glowing from his blade.
Valentina watched from the edge of the battle, eyes wide. She wanted to rush in—but this was their fight.
Ancient magic exploded around them. Ghosts of old kings and fallen warriors rose from the earth, drawn by the power tearing through time. Zoraida's voice joined the winds—she was chanting a binding spell, hoping to seal Catalina's curse before it spread to the world itself.
But Catalina broke through it.
With one scream, she knocked Luciano back with a wave of corrupted magic. He hit the ground hard. The golden mist closed in.
"Time to die," she whispered.
Then she raised her hand—and the crown appeared. Not made of gold. Not anymore.
It was black.
Twisted.
Venomous.
The Crown of Ashes.
She reached for it.
But a spear flew through the air—silver-tipped, ancient, aimed straight for her heart.
Valentina had thrown it.
Catalina turned too late.
The spear pierced her chest.
She staggered.
Luciano rose, bloody and burning, grabbed his sword, and drove it through the heart of the golden mist.
Catalina screamed—not in pain, but in fury.
The crown shattered.
Light exploded.
The world paused.
When the light faded, Catalina lay still.
Not dead.
But... human again.
The venom was gone. Her body was broken. Her eyes, no longer glowing, met Luciano's.
"I only wanted to be free," she whispered.
"You could've been," he said softly, "if you had just stood beside me."
Then her eyes closed.
And silence fell.
The war was over.
But the price was everything.
The jungle would regrow. The tribes would heal.
But Luciano... he had won the crown.
And it no longer felt like victory.
TO BE CONTINUED…