Modred and Augustus surged forward together, flame and light ripping through the battlefield as they closed the distance in an instant, the ground collapsing beneath their feet from the force of their acceleration.
The Hoblim laughed.
It was a deep, resonant sound—ancient, pleased—before its massive frame blurred and vanished.
Space folded.
Before either of them could react, the creature reappeared behind them, its movements so clean and effortless that instinct came too late. A colossal fist smashed into Modred's side, the impact cracking the air and sending him spinning violently across the ground, while another blow struck Augustus squarely in the chest, launching him like a broken doll through stone and dirt.
They skidded to a halt in opposite directions.
Modred forced himself upright, blood running freely from his mouth as his breath came out ragged. "You alive?" he shouted.
Augustus groaned, rising to one knee, teeth clenched. "…Didn't expect this thing to be that strong."
The Hoblim straightened slowly, dark Arcana rolling off its body in heavy, oppressive waves as it opened its mouth.
"Children of Hazo," it rumbled, its voice vibrating through bone and soil alike.
"Give me your best."
The words scraped against something buried deep in Modred's chest, something old and unsettled.
"…What the hell does it mean?" he muttered.
Augustus shook his head sharply. "Doesn't matter."
His eyes burned gold as he stepped forward.
" We have to kill it."
The sky answered.
Light tore open the clouds as dozens of radiant swords formed above the Hoblim, their presence alone bending the air. Augustus brought his hand down, and the blades descended in unison, crashing into the ground with enough force to split the battlefield apart, shockwaves ripping outward as dust and debris swallowed everything in a violent storm.
For a brief moment, there was nothing but silence.
Then the dust cleared.
The Hoblim stood there.
Unharmed.
It reached down, picked up a broken fragment of one of the light blades, and bit into it, metal cracking between its teeth as the remaining Arcana fizzled out uselessly.
"…Delicious," it said, smiling as it looked at them. "Is that all?"
Augustus froze.
That attack alone had drained nearly forty percent of his Arcana.
Modred struck him sharply between the shoulders. "Guess it's my turn."
Fire erupted.
Modred launched forward in a blaze, twin swords igniting as he moved, his speed savage and unrestrained, steel cutting deep as he carved clean through the Hoblim's arm, severing it completely and sending it crashing to the ground in a spray of dark blood.
The Hoblim laughed again.
Dark Arcana surged.
From the stump, shadows swarmed—writhing, pulsing—coiling around bone and muscle. Flesh knitted itself back together in seconds, forming a new arm that twitched once… then clenched into a fist.
Its grin widened.
They clashed again, harder this time, the Hoblim adapting with terrifying speed as claws tore through flame and strikes landed heavy enough to shatter ribs. One blow slipped past Modred's guard, claws piercing straight through his abdomen.
Pain exploded.
Blood poured freely as Modred staggered backward, death pressing close enough to feel.
And yet—
He laughed.
His eyes burned dark red as heat flooded his veins, blood roaring in his ears as something inside him awakened fully.
"…Another hit like that and I'm dead," he muttered, dodging on instinct alone.
The grin on his face only widened.
"I've never felt better."
His movements sharpened, faster, cleaner, more efficient, and the Hoblim noticed immediately.
Its smile vanished.
Dark Arcana erupted outward as its body warped violently, growing taller and thinner, pupils collapsing into narrow black voids as it seized Modred by the throat mid-charge and lifted him effortlessly into the air.
"You are powerful," it growled.
"Too bad you die here."
Its claws descended—
Gold light tore through the space between them.
The Hoblim's arm was severed again, this time burning.
Augustus stood there, blood streaming from his ribs, eyes blazing with something far more dangerous than fear.
"Show me," he said evenly, "what you've got."
The Hoblim turned on him, and they collided.
Augustus moved with precision, light forming and reforming into blades around him as he fought, dodging narrowly as claws grazed his side and tore flesh. Pain flared—and memory followed.
A man in black robes.
Wind tugging at dark hair.
A familiar voice, calm and unyielding.
"You have a special power, the voice said.
Use it to protect your brothers."
Augustus laughed softly. "…Damn you. That's one hell of a burden."
He rose into the air as the sun caught him fully, light condensing around his body until a star-shaped crest burned open in his left eye.
"Thank you," he said to the Hoblim. "I'll show you real power."
He pointed skyward.
The clouds split as a colossal sword of light formed above, humming with overwhelming density.
"Well then," Augustus said, bleeding and smiling,
"guess this is the end."
He pointed down.
The world vanished in white.
When the light faded, the Hoblim lay ruined, half its body gone, regeneration faltering as Augustus clutched his side and collapsed midair.
Modred caught him.
Then—
A scream.
Dark and sharp.
The Hoblim began regenerating again.
Steel flashed.
Leon stood there, sword already sheathed.
"You should stay dead."
The Hoblim's eyes widened in disbelief. "How—"
Its body split apart and evaporated.
Behind it, the chimera lay in pieces.
Dante stood among them, bloodied and grinning. "Good riddance."
Silence fell.
Leon stepped forward. "You two alive?"
Modred raised a shaking hand. Peace sign. "Still breathing."
Leon smiled.
Dante snorted. "Don't relax yet. We still have to win."
Then a voice cut through the aftermath.
"We already won."
They turned.
Taren stood there, flag in hand.
For a moment, Modred couldn't breathe.
Then he ran.
He stumbled, nearly fell, caught himself, tears streaming freely as exhaustion and disbelief crushed into him all at once. When he reached Taren, his legs finally gave out, and he grabbed the flag with trembling hands, clutching it to his chest as a broken laugh tore free from his throat.
"We did it," he choked out, tears spilling openly now.
"We actually did it."
No one spoke.
They simply stood there, letting him have the moment.