The cavern shook as Kael and General Varkas clashed.
Steel met flame in a thunderous explosion. Sparks rained like meteors as Varkas's colossal axe crashed down, forcing Kael to block with both hands. The force jolted through his bones, but he held.
"You've grown stronger, boy," Varkas snarled, his eyes smoldering with corrupted fire. "But strength without purpose is wasted."
"I have purpose," Kael spat, shoving the axe aside. "You taught me that—when you slaughtered my family."
He lunged, sword sweeping in a fiery arc. Varkas caught the blade on his armored gauntlet, and flame sizzled across the blackened steel.
Around them, the battle had drawn to a halt. Rebels and shadowbound soldiers formed a wide circle, watching in tense silence. This fight was no longer just a clash of warriors—it was symbolic. A reckoning.
Varkas struck again, faster than a man his size should move. Kael ducked, narrowly avoiding decapitation, and rolled behind a shattered pillar. He inhaled deeply, drawing the flame into himself, letting it saturate his limbs and sharpen his focus.
"You hide behind magic," Varkas mocked. "Just like your father."
Kael froze. "You knew him?"
"I killed him," Varkas said, smiling. "Begged like a coward. Said he had a son. I promised to find him."
Rage exploded in Kael's chest. The flame within surged uncontrollably, licking the edges of his vision. He stepped from the rubble, eyes blazing with golden fire.
"No more running," Kael said, voice trembling. "No more fear."
He sprinted forward, blade burning white-hot. Varkas raised his axe to meet him—but Kael feinted, sliding under the blow and plunging his sword into the general's side. Fire roared from the wound, searing armor and flesh.
Varkas bellowed in pain, backhanding Kael across the cavern. Kael hit the stone wall with a grunt, vision blurring. Blood trickled from his mouth.
Mara raced to his side, ignoring the danger. "Kael! You can't win this alone!"
Kael pushed himself up, body screaming in protest. "Then help me end him."
She nodded, her twin daggers drawn. They charged together—Kael from the front, Mara from behind. Their synchronized strikes forced Varkas to stagger.
But he wasn't finished.
With a roar, Varkas unleashed a shockwave of shadow flame, knocking them back. He raised his axe high, the blade glowing with corrupted energy. "This ends now!"
"No," Kael whispered, rising again. "It begins now."
He pressed his hand to the ground. The flame within him responded—not with fire, but light. Golden tendrils burst from the floor, wrapping around Varkas's limbs, binding him in place.
Varkas struggled, snarling. "What is this?!"
"Truth," Kael said. "Flame isn't just destruction. It's renewal. It's justice."
Mara leapt, daggers finding the seams in Varkas's armor. With a cry, she drove them deep.
Kael followed, plunging his sword through the general's chest. Flame erupted—pure, cleansing—and Varkas screamed, his body turning to ash and sparks.
Silence fell.
Then the rebels erupted in cheers.
Kael fell to one knee, exhausted. Elara, Therin, and Lysaria rushed to his side.
"You did it," Elara breathed. "You actually did it."
"No," Kael said, shaking his head. "We did."
Vaelra approached, her usually stern face softened. "You've lit a fire none of us thought possible. The Sovereign will feel this loss."
Kael stood slowly. "Then let's make sure it wasn't in vain. No more hiding. It's time we take the fight to him."
Cheers rose again. Emberdeep had survived.
But this was only the beginning.
Far to the north, in a throne of black stone, the Sovereign opened his eyes—and smiled.