The commander's warhammer crashed down again, chains howling through the night. Kael met the strike head-on, his blade flashing with black lightning. The collision sent a shockwave ripping across the field, scattering ash and sparks.
But the commander didn't relent—his strikes came faster, chains coiling and uncoiling like serpents of iron, hammering into Kael with merciless rhythm. Each blow could have broken a lesser man in half.
Kael parried, twisted, and slid across torn earth, but his arms ached from the force.
This man fights like a siege engine, he thought, every strike heavier than the last.
The commander grinned beneath his helmet. "You have fire, boy. But fire burns out. Iron endures."
With a vicious sweep, the warhammer slammed low. Kael barely vaulted over it, cloak snapping like bloodied wings. In midair, he spun, blade glowing, and slashed downward—
"Crimson Fang!"
A jagged crescent of black-red energy ripped through the air toward the commander.
The commander raised his gauntleted arm, bracing. The arc of energy slammed into him, sparks and smoke engulfing his massive form. For a moment, silence.
Then the smoke cleared. His armor was cracked, but he still stood.
He laughed, deep and booming. "Good! A blade with a name. That means I can kill you with honor."
Behind Kael, the clash of steel rose sharply—his companions had no time to stand idle.
The commander's elite guard surged forward—hulking warriors clad in scaled black plate, their weapons brutal and unforgiving.
Lyra darted among them, blades flashing, cutting tendons and throats where she could, but every swing of their great axes forced her back. Darian braced against two at once, his shield ringing as he absorbed blow after blow. Sparks flew as the steel cracked against his defense. Selene's chants grew louder, glyphs spiraling around her hands as she tried to bend the tide with raw sorcery.
"Kael!" Lyra shouted, slipping past a crushing swing. "If you don't finish him fast, we won't last!"
Kael didn't turn—his eyes were locked on the commander, who was already swinging the chained hammer again, fast enough to rip through trees and stone.
Kael's blade lit with lightning, the air trembling with the crack of thunder.
"I'm not planning to drag this out," he said coldly. "Let's see which endures—iron… or the storm."
The duel tightened, their weapons blurring as sparks rained down. Around them, his companions fought desperately, their survival tied to whether Kael could break the iron giant before the guard overwhelmed them.
The battlefield was no longer an army's clash—it was the eye of a storm, and Kael stood at its center.