The Sword of Night and Flame was withdrawn, and in its place Lucian swiftly brought out the heavy Ruins Greatsword, raising it as a shield before him. At the same time, the winds gathered close, forming into armor that enveloped his body.
Since evasion was impossible, Lucian resolved to take the strike head-on, to absorb the impact mid-air and thus disperse a portion of the force.
But now, the warriors who traveled on foot had also reached the battlefield.
Of them all, Blaidd the Half-Wolf was the swiftest. His sprint carried him to the forefront, and he arrived first upon the blood-soaked sands. Seeing Lucian caught and unable to move freely, Blaidd leapt forward without hesitation, intent on breaking the bind.
He soared into the air, his figure turning in mid-flight, and unleashed his signature technique—Wolf's Assault. The Royal Greatsword in his hands drove down with thunderous force, plunging deep into Radahn's massive shoulder.
As he tore the great blade free, frost exploded outward from its surface, the chill bursting violently and disrupting the general's movements.
At once, the crushing pull that bound Lucian vanished. His body, at last released from gravity's cruel snare, dropped freely back toward the ground.
Then, from amidst the sea of corpses and blood, another blade slashed in from the flank, drenched in cursed ichor—the ominous Rivers of Blood of the veteran warrior known only as Okina. It carved down upon Radahn's mighty elbow joint, biting deep.
Okina's strikes rained upon Radahn's massive arm, and each cut hewed so deep that bone itself was revealed.
At the same moment, Bernahl had already reached Radahn's side.
He swung his Devourer's Scepter with great arcs, and when the massive iron head connected, it shattered the armor that plated Radahn's waist and belly.
Okina—lightly equipped, and Bernahl, strongest of the warriors besides Lucian, had both now entered the fray.
Behind them came the rest of the gathered champions, though their differing speeds had stretched their ranks. The closest of them still remained at some distance.
Radahn realized then that he had been surrounded.
He bellowed a roar that shook the dunes. His twin greatswords, the Starscourge Greatswords, crashed into the ground. At once, the power bound within them surged forth: their skill, Starcaller Cry.
A colossal gravitational pull swept the field, dragging the surrounding warriors inexorably toward him.
And should they be drawn too close, they would surely be crushed beneath the terrible second stage of his descending strike.
Those further away remained beyond the pull, but Lucian, Blaidd, Bernahl, and Okina were all within the range.
The three braced their weapons into the sand, their strength and resolve holding them fast against the monstrous force.
But Okina—he did not resist at all. Instead, he bent his knees and sprang high, hurling himself forward, allowing the gravity to propel him ever faster toward Radahn.
Madness flashed in Okina's eyes.
With a crimson gleam, the blade of Rivers of Blood cut across Radahn's thick neck.
A fountain of blood erupted, staining the veteran's body scarlet.
At the edge of death, Radahn's primal will to live surged to heights unimaginable.
The Great Rune within him ignited into blazing fire. At the very brink of collapse, it flared with fury.
The wound upon his neck sealed at once, flesh knitting back together. Injuries across his body mended with sudden speed.
In the blink of an eye, the wounds he had suffered, those that had not yet closed, all healed completely.
Radahn swung his arm, hurling Okina aside.
The strike was merciless, sending the veteran rolling across the battlefield before he struggled back to his feet.
Already, Radahn conjured spheres of stone, hurling them in deadly salvos at the battered Okina.
Drawing a Wakizashi into his left hand, Okina fought in dual style, Rivers of Blood and short blade working in tandem. The great sword cleaved apart the larger boulders, while the smaller blade shattered the debris.
Yet his wounds had weakened him. His breath faltered, and it seemed the last rock sphere would strike true—
But one of the Inaba warriors dashed in to shield him. The sphere obliterated the man into pulp.
Okina did not spare the fallen even a glance. Seeing Radahn's gaze shift back toward Lucian, he sank to the ground and began to regulate his breath.
For Radahn's target was still Lucian.
After casting the stone barrage at Okina, the Starscourge turned again to his greatest threat.
Lucian strode forward boldly, resuming the fight.
With the Sword of Night and Flame once more in hand, he conjured Glintstone Cometshards, each impact opening new wounds upon Radahn's colossal frame.
Again he raised a circle of Glintblade Phalanx, and from the flame-wreathed blade he summoned storms of fire.
Flame and wind merged into a blazing tempest—the likes of which had not been seen before.
The firestorm swept Radahn, blackening his already darkened skin, while the delayed Glintblades followed, raining volleys of light.
These constant strikes stung like mosquito bites, but even such irritation drove the Starscourge into wrath.
Radahn whirled, both swords cleaving down upon Lucian.
He leapt aside, narrowly evading the descending blades. The ground erupted into a cloud of sand beneath their weight.
Yet Lucian never ceased his movements, spell after spell bursting forth from his hands.
Nearby, Bernahl thrust the Devourer's Scepter into the ground. The serpent's eye upon it glowed blood-red, and a river of sanguine light spread outward.
Radahn was caught in the range of the weapon's dread power.
From the scepter erupted a horde of blood-serpents, their fanged maws biting into Radahn's flesh, drawing his blood into their endless stream, feeding it back into Bernahl's scepter.
In mere moments, Radahn's massive body was drenched scarlet, a man of blood.
Several serpents darted lower, striking at Leonard, the great horse beneath him, intent on destroying Radahn's mobility.
But how could Radahn allow his beloved steed to be harmed?
He loosed a furious roar, his body wreathed in violet light. The pull of gravity clashed with Bernahl's serpents, the forces cancelling each other out.
Blaidd seized the opening, launching Wolf's Assault again. But this time Radahn met him mid-air, smashing him back down.
Though Blaidd managed to block with the Royal Greatsword, he was hurled aside, blood spraying from his lips.
Meanwhile, Okina had steadied his breath.
He dismissed the wakizashi, taking a stance—feet set, body turned, Rivers of Blood raised high.
Dark, murderous energy surged, and countless vengeful souls from the blade bent to his will.
At the peak of his aura, the vision of a four-armed Asura, born of pure killing intent, manifested behind him, looming immense.
Okina struck, the great blade falling in a straight, unadorned cut. The Asura followed, swinging its phantom weapon in unison.
And even the maddened Radahn could feel it clearly in that instant—
The world itself was split in two.
The strike cleaved a vast wound from crown to chest. His face nearly split apart, the lion-helm shattered into fragments, tumbling to the sand. His long red hair, his pride, spilled downward in bloodied strands.
But even such a terrible blow did not fell him.
In the end, it had only cleaved his face.
Had it struck deeper, had it parted his skull, perhaps the tale of Radahn would have ended here.
As the strike passed, Okina's aura fell, dissipating, leaving him weaker still.
Yet Bernahl and Lucian still stood strong. Seeing Radahn's grievous state, they rushed forward at once.
But before they could land a finishing blow, Radahn moved again.
The general's battle instincts drove him higher and higher. His lust for combat only grew.
He craved battle. He craved endless battle.
This—this was Starscourge Radahn, who stood atop all warriors!
His Great Rune blazed hotter than ever, burning even if it meant ruin, burning even if it meant consuming him entirely.
So be it. Let the fight be fought to the end!
With a skyward howl, his wounds closed once more.
Raising both swords, he unleashed a second Starcaller Cry, stronger than before.
Okina and Blaidd retreated swiftly, escaping the range.
But Lucian and Bernahl were caught in its center.
And now, around Radahn swarmed a host of gravity orbs, like a rain of falling stars.
Lucian strained against the pull, dodging frantically between the projectiles.
Bernahl, though better able to bear it due to his heavy armor, was far from safe.
A single sphere grazed Lucian's body, breaking his balance.
The doubled pull seized him, dragging him into Radahn's reach.
Radahn saw only him, the greatest threat. He ignored all others and swung to kill.
Twin greatswords, drenched in magic, descended.
Lucian called forth his pocket disk-space, swapping Sword of Night and Flame for the heavy Ruins Greatsword.
He braced it before him as the twin swords crashed down.
Shards burst from the weapon, but it held.
Yet it was not only weight and steel.
From the impact erupted raw gravity, a blast of force that swallowed the battlefield in a storm of magic.
The blast hurled Lucian far, flinging him across the dunes until he slammed into the sands.
Bernahl, caught too close, was also cast aside, though he rose again quickly.
Radahn knew his strongest foe had been grievously wounded. He turned from him, moving upon the other warriors.
The host had arrived now in full.
They gasped at the sight of the battle before them.
"What strength!"
"How thrilling! To see such warriors with my own eyes!"
"Even if I die here, it will be worth it!"
And though awe filled their hearts, none would stand idle.
They surged forward, reckless and unyielding, vowing to uphold their general's honor.
The warrior called Great Horned raised the Giant-Crusher hammer and smashed Radahn's leg, shattering his greaves.
The Old Knight channeled gravity, resisting the waves that threatened the others.
Bernahl, though wounded, joined battle again.
Dryleaf Dane chose his moment, soaring high. His foot struck Radahn's sword hilt once, then again, then a third time, each kick sharp and true.
One of the twin blades flew from Radahn's grasp.
Alexander, the Warrior Jar, laughed as he barreled forward, smashing his iron body into Radahn's waist, even staggering the general.
From above descended Freya, the Red Lion. With a roaring war cry, she launched her Lion's Claw, carving wounds upon Radahn.
The first strike marked his leg, giving her momentum.
The second slashed his arm.
The third struck deep into his shoulder, nearly severing an arm.
But to Radahn, it was still as nothing.
With a surge of gravity, he recalled his lost greatsword.
It screamed through the air, tearing apart all caught in its path, until it landed once more in his hand.
Beneath him, Leonard sensed his master's will. The horse began to circle, hooves pounding.
Together, blade and steed spun. Radahn unleashed a whirling strike of ruin.
Those caught around him were cleaved apart, bodies falling in halves upon the sand.
The warriors who yet lived faltered at the sight.
They had known Radahn was the mightiest of the demigods, but never had they imagined such power.
Could such a monster ever be defeated?
They saw the strongest among them charging again, but doubt gnawed their hearts.
Fear crept in—until a voice called out from the storm.
"General Radahn, you have given me no end of surprises."
"At first, I feared your mindless state might disappoint me…"
"But now, it is proven. You truly stand upon the peak of warriors."
"Stand proud, you are strong."
The storm winds rose, lifting sand in a whirling shroud.
And through it came a towering figure.
Lucian rose, dragging forth the Dragon Slayer Swordspear, magnified to its utmost, his body enlarged by the power of the Great Rune.
With a single sweep, the weapon cut the air, scattering the storm of dust.
Though his armor was battered, lightning still danced upon the weapon. He seemed a god descended.
The gale howled, and Radahn beheld before him a true king.
Meeting Radahn's gaze, Lucian smiled faintly.
"Your opponent is me."
"Come, let us continue this blood-boiling slaughter."
And with that, he surged across the vast dunes, stormwinds at his back.
Leaping high, he brought the Swordspear down with a force to cleave the heavens.
Two bearers of Great Runes, each unleashing the full might of their power.
Without doubt, this was a battle fit only for the Shattering War itself.
And now, upon the Wailing Dunes, such a myth was reborn.
Perhaps it was illusion, but Lucian felt certain—Radahn's blood, too, burned with excitement.
The general's twin blades rose to meet the strike, locking against the Swordspear.
With his rune's power swelling his body, Lucian could meet Radahn in sheer force.
Gravity burst outward from the Starscourge Greatswords, blasting warriors aside in every direction.
And lightning and storm spread from the spear, driving all others away.
Now, none could interfere.
For in this battle, neither Lucian nor Radahn would allow any hand but their own.