The battlefield was quiet, eerily so. Smoke drifted across the broken plain, the stench of iron and death hanging thick in the air. The great commander of the Sovereign lay in a pool of his own blood, his shattered hammer beside him.
Kael stood over the corpse, shoulders heaving, blade still slick with crimson. The black lightning around him fizzled, and at last, he allowed his aura to fade. His body trembled, but he forced himself upright.
"…He did it."
The words were a whisper at first. Then louder, carried across the ranks of battered soldiers.
"Kael… has slain him!"
The cry rippled like wildfire through their lines. Men and women, bloodied and exhausted, lifted their weapons into the air, voices rising in thunderous roars. For them, this wasn't just a victory. It was survival—hope clawed back from the jaws of despair.
Aric rushed forward first, his normally stern expression broken into something raw, almost disbelieving.
"Kael," he said, his voice low, almost reverent. "You've… you've broken their spine."
Kael turned his gaze briefly, eyes still glowing faintly crimson. His reply was steady, though the fatigue beneath it was clear.
"One battle does not break a war."
Lyra came next, her bow slung over her shoulder, strands of hair clinging to her face. She looked him over, eyes narrowing.
"You're bleeding everywhere," she said, half in scolding, half in relief. "You push too far every time… and one of these days—"
Kael cut her off with a faint smirk.
"And yet, I'm still standing."
Lyra shook her head, muttering under her breath, but her shoulders eased.
Kaelen approached last, moving with his usual deliberate calm. He studied the corpse of the commander, then Kael himself. For once, his tone carried not mystery, but pride.
"You've stepped further into the path I always knew you'd walk," Kaelen murmured. "This was not just strength—it was resolve."
Kael said nothing, but the weight of Kaelen's words lingered in him.
All around them, soldiers began to press forward, some falling to their knees, some shouting Kael's name. To them, he was no longer just another blade in the ranks. He was a beacon, a figure carved in blood and legend.
Kael, however, only tightened his grip on his sword, staring toward the distant horizon where dark clouds gathered.
This was not the end. It was the beginning of something far greater.