Sid's blade clashed against Zoltan's sickly green chains, sparks flying with every impact. Poison hissed in the air, corroding the stone beneath their feet. Sid's blue flames burned brighter, but Zoltan's poisonous aura twisted like serpents, smothering the battlefield in choking fumes.
"You're strong, boy," Zoltan sneered, his chains tightening around Sid's sword with a sickening hiss. "But strength is wasted when anger blinds you. You'll end up just like your father—clinging to pride until the world grinds you down."
Sid gritted his teeth and shoved forward, his light sword wrapped in fire cutting through the chains. "You know nothing of my father. Or of us!"
Zoltan smirked, spreading his arms. The poison around him thickened, forming the shape of a monstrous cobra with dripping fangs. "I know enough. The Starborns have hidden behind bloodlines and illusions of power for too long. Today, that ends!"
Before Sid could retort, a pulse struck his chest. His vision blurred for an instant—then he felt it. A thread snapping deep inside him.
His heart sank. His breath caught.
Mira. Cael.
He staggered, clutching his chest as the weight of their deaths crashed into him. Memories of Mira's calm smile, of Cael's booming laughter, rushed into his mind. He saw them both, standing in defiance, giving their lives to protect him. Protect the clan.
Sid's sword trembled. His body shook. The grief dug into him like claws—then ignited into something else.
Fury.
"You killed them," he whispered, though he knew Zoltan hadn't delivered the final blow. It didn't matter. Zoltan had brought this battle here. His betrayal, his greed, had caused this. "You killed them!"
His Vitral roared to life. Blue flames engulfed him, swirling violently, so hot they warped the air. Light bled into the fire, until the flames began to shift—brightening, sharpening. White.
The battlefield froze.
Even Zoltan's smirk faltered as he stepped back, shielding his face from the blistering heat. "What… is this?"
Sid lifted his head, his eyes glowing with silver fire. His sword blazed, no longer blue but pure white flames interlaced with radiant light. The ground beneath him melted, glowing cracks spreading outward.
"This is their will," Sid said, his voice steady but burning with rage. "And I will carry it!"
With a roar, he launched forward. His blade carved a white arc through the poison cobra, splitting it in half. The spectral beast shrieked as white flames devoured it, leaving nothing but ash.
Zoltan snarled and swung his arms, his poison chains hardening into serrated whips. They lashed out, striking at Sid from every direction.
Sid's body blurred, light bursting from his steps. He weaved through the strikes, parrying two, cutting a third in half, then vanishing into a burst of white fire. He reappeared behind Zoltan, sword descending.
Zoltan barely caught it, crossing his chains like a shield. The impact cracked the air, a shockwave rippling across the battlefield. The poisonous chains hissed, corroding under the searing white flame.
Zoltan roared and pushed back, spraying venom in every direction. "Don't think you can beat me with a new trick!"
Sid didn't flinch. His sword cut through the venom cloud, his white fire consuming every drop before it could touch him. His flames were purer, hotter—burning even poison into nothing.
"Try me," Sid said coldly.
The two clashed again, faster, harder. Poison spikes erupted from the ground, but Sid's blade shattered them. Chains coiled to trap him, but his flames melted them. Each strike forced Zoltan back, his once-confident grin replaced by a scowl of frustration.
But Zoltan was not finished. With a guttural shout, he slammed his palm into the ground. Poison surged outward, condensing into a massive dome of writhing serpents. They coiled around Sid, dozens of them, each dripping venom so corrosive it melted stone on contact.
The serpents lunged.
Sid planted his sword into the ground. White flames burst outward in a blazing wave, vaporizing the first serpents instantly. But more came, overwhelming him, slamming into his defenses with relentless fury.
Sid gritted his teeth, forcing his flames higher, hotter, brighter. The serpents screamed as the white fire spread, eating them alive. One by one, they dissolved—but every defense drained his strength.
Zoltan laughed, his voice echoing through the poison dome. "Burn as bright as you want, boy! Fire fades, poison lingers. And mine will rot you from the inside out!"
Sid staggered under the weight of the attack. His flames flickered for a moment—but then Mira's smile, Cael's roar, and his grandfather's words flooded back into his mind.
The fire inside him surged again, stronger than before. His white flames flared, spreading like wings.
"I will not fall!" he roared, lifting his blade high as a pillar of white fire tore through the poison dome, splitting it apart and flooding the battlefield with light.
For a moment, Zoltan shielded his eyes from the blinding brilliance. When he looked back—Sid was standing tall, his white flames burning hotter than ever, his sword gleaming like a star.
The duel was far from over. But now, it was Sid who stood at the peak.
The ground shook as distant explosions thundered across the island. Three clung to the edge of the doorway, his heart hammering. His father's command still rang in his ears: "Go to your mother."
But even here, danger had found them.
Two hooded figures stepped out of a dark portal that split the air inside their home. Their auras pressed down like a storm, suffocating. Both radiated the unmistakable might of Pattern Weavers.
Keila stood between them and her son, her eyes sharp, her aura flaring. Sparks danced along her arms, lightning crackling wildly in the confined space.
"You'll not touch him," she said, her voice low and steady.
The intruders smirked and rushed her in unison.
The first conjured a spear of condensed Vitral, thrusting with terrifying speed. Keila's hand shot out, lightning forming into a jagged whip. It wrapped the spear and yanked it aside, discharging a crack of thunder that blasted the attacker through a wall.
The second blurred forward with twin daggers, aiming for her throat. Keila spun, arcs of lightning bursting around her like a storm. Sparks scorched the wooden beams, and every strike of the daggers was met with a furious snap of electricity. The impact rattled the house, showering them all in shards of broken timber.
Three stumbled back, eyes wide. The room shook with every clash, the air buzzing, the smell of ozone sharp and choking. His mother was everywhere at once — lightning flashing, strikes cracking like thunder — but so were they, relentless, coordinated, deadly.
One dagger cut across her arm. Another sliced her side. Keila hissed, blood mixing with the sparks dancing on her skin, but she didn't falter. With a fierce cry, she unleashed a wave of lightning that consumed the first attacker, his body convulsing violently before collapsing, charred and lifeless.
The second roared in rage, his aura spiking. He darted in, faster, deadlier, daggers weaving in a blur. Sparks and steel clashed again and again. Three could only watch as the house became a battlefield of light and shadows, every strike threatening to tear it apart.
Keila gritted her teeth, pushing past the pain. Her lightning gathered, brighter, sharper, until it speared forward and pierced clean through the intruder's chest. His body jerked violently, then went still, smoke rising from the wound as he fell.
Silence crashed into the room.
Keila stood swaying, blood dripping from her wounds, electricity still crackling faintly across her skin. Three's breath caught as he saw her knees buckle.
Her lightning winked out.
Her body crumpled to the floor, falling hard.