Everything fell silent for a moment.Even the tongues of flame licking the palace walls seemed to pause, waiting for what was to come. The air was charged, heavy, laced with the scent of burnt iron and smoke.
Larem looked at Jhon, who muttered in a heavy voice:
Jhon:"They've arrived..."
Azar shot him a sharp glance:
Azar:"Who? Who do you mean?"
But Jhon didn't answer. Instead, he slowly turned toward the shattered window and stared at the western horizon. Beyond the sea fog, massive ships were cutting their way toward the island. They were not merchant ships, nor the kind that carried ordinary soldiers; they were massive structures, black as night, silent like ghosts moving upon the water.
Tir, standing on the wall with his clothes covered in the dust of explosions, whispered:
Tir:"No... not just them... those ships only move to invade and colonize kingdoms..."
Jhon gave a faint, mocking laugh:
Jhon:"Your end is coming... your island is just the beginning, we will occupy all your lands."
Larem tightened his grip on his sword and said:
Larem:"Enough arrogance. Who is on those ships?"
Jhon replied coldly:
Jhon:"Those who subjugate cities before their feet even touch the ground... the Imperial Army."
Beyond the sea fog, the massive ships kept advancing toward the island. They were not merchant ships, nor troop carriers of ordinary kind, but towering hulks, black as night, silent like ghosts drifting across the water.
Tir shouted to the remaining harbor guards and the Draughtborn Slayers:
"Evacuate the city! Don't stay a single minute! Move!"
But his voice faded with the breath.
In a ruined square nearby, Azamir and Nuh stood frozen, unable to grasp the scale of the disaster, staring at the ships filling the horizon and at the city burning in silence.
Nuh (whispering):"Is... is this the end of Naran?"
Jhon attacked with a sharp water arrow that shot like lightning toward Larem's chest, but Larem twisted his body at the last moment, letting it graze his shoulder, leaving a deep wound coated in frost-like cold spray.
Larem gasped in pain, but before he could react, footsteps thundered through the hall.
A group of Draughtborn Slayers, masked faces and curved black swords in hand, surrounded Jhon from three sides.
One of them shouted:"Surrender, Arkanis! You're finished!"
Jhon smirked, his eyes glinting with savagery:
Jhon:"Damn you... what have you done to my creatures?! They weren't made to be defeated!"
Then he suddenly raised his hand, enveloping himself in a gleaming water armor that covered his entire body, as if water had poured over him and then solidified into a flexible form, merging with his long sword that looked as though it had risen from the depths of the sea itself.
Without warning, he attacked!
He rushed at Larem and the Draughtborn Slayers with a speed unfit for his size, his sword gleaming, droplets scattering like shards of glass. Their strikes were lethal and well-trained, but Jhon didn't budge. He was like a tide, flowing between blows, parrying with both his sword and the fluid shield, then countering with a violent slash that made the air around them shudder.
In a fleeting moment...
Jhon's sword pierced the guard of one Draughtborn Slayer, slicing off his right hand with a sudden sidestep, then twisting his body to deliver a clean slash to the neck.
The head hit the ground before the others realized what had happened.
The survivors stepped back, hesitant.
Jhon (in a demonic whisper):"One... two... who's next?"
But a loud voice cut through the chaos:
Larem (furious):"Fall back! Cover Azar and Qays immediately!"
The Draughtborn Slayers quickly retreated, dragging the wounded, while Larem stepped forward alone, his sword dripping blood and water.
Larem:"Your fight is with me now... leave the others. I'm your opponent."
Jhon smiled with deadly calm and gave a slight bow, as if offering him a duelist's salute.
Jhon:"As you wish... let's finish what we started."
Larem slowly poured poison along his blade, his eyes tracking Jhon's movements like a predator awaiting the strike. It wasn't an even fight—in strength nor in abilities—but Larem was no ordinary knight. He had fought worse than men.
In a blink, Jhon spun like a storm, his sword slicing the air, wrapped in a lethal whirl of water. Larem blocked the first strike but nearly fell under the pressure of the relentless blows. With each hit, he stepped back.
Larem (muttering to himself):"His power is beyond measure... can't face him with the sword alone."
He suddenly stepped back, pulled a small mechanical device from his side pocket, and released a faint puff of gray gas toward Jhon.
Jhon (mocking):"You think I fear gases? These are children's poisons."
But Larem didn't answer. Instead, he withdrew further, opened a pouch from his belt, and pulled out a small tube of black metal veined with copper edges.
He locked it into the hilt of his sword with astonishing speed, and a sharp crackling of electricity filled the air.
Jhon (suspicious):"What is that?"
Larem:"The end of your arrogance."
He lunged with all his strength, his sword clashing against Jhon's, sending the electric spark from the metal straight into Jhon's body.
Jhon's body convulsed violently.He screamed, water bursting around him in turbulent bubbles.His water armor collapsed, the whirlpool defense crumbling.He fell to his knees, gasping for breath that wouldn't come.
At the critical moment, Larem leapt, aiming a precise thrust toward his head.
But he didn't kill him—Instead, he slashed his left side, then twisted the blade toward his face, tearing through the helmet and stabbing into his left eye!
A horrific scream tore from Jhon's mouth as his body writhed on the ground, as if fire had erupted in his skull.
But...
The horn's call thundered again in the distance.
Tir (shouting from the wall):"Imperial reinforcements!! The ships are unloading battle units!!"
Larem knelt beside Azar, who was helping Qays up, and panted:"We have to retreat... now!"
Outside, hundreds of armored soldiers poured from the bellies of the black ships. Imperial banners rose in every corner of the harbor, the pounding of war drums striking the ground like the blows of doomsday.
Above them, Jhon, despite his wounds, laughed... venom spilling from his mouth, steam rising from his ruined eye.
Jhon (in a broken voice):"You've marred my face... but you won't save your city."
Larem:"Everyone withdraw! This isn't a battle we win... it's a battle to delay our deaths."
The bodies of the Draughtborn Slayers and the remnants of the guard disappeared into backstreets, while the drums thundered and the Imperial armies advanced through the ruins of Drienasas.