n the final clash between the two, the blade of crimson light in Aedan's hand shattered, creating a cascade of crystalline shards that echoed the destruction of the prized spear of Andrich Castellan. Before he could regain his breath, a torrent of fire descended from above, engulfing him in searing flames. The intense heat licked at his Heartspark Armor, and he felt the weight of his injuries, blood seeping through the cracks.
Within the inferno, instead of pain, Aedan felt an unusual serenity settle over him. Life and death seemed of little concern as the flames danced around him. Three Heartsparks circled in an ethereal dance, while the other three returned to his belt, channeling power to ensure his armor didn't succumb to the fiery onslaught.
With the damaged heartspark in his hands, cracks marring its once-perfect surface, Aedan held it forward to the circling sparks midair. To his surprise, the three sparks responded, forming intricate patterns beneath his feet.
The three circling crystals were drawn into the damaged heartspark, and the circle of light under his feet intensified, radiating a brilliant glow. The crystal transformed, growing into a full-fledged crimson crystal sword. Burning veins of aura coiled around the hilt, extending along the ten-inch blade of pure aura.
Aedan, now wielding the Vengeance Sword, emerged from the engulfing flames. The air crackled with the intensity of the evolved heartspark art, and Aedan faced Andrich Castellan with an unyielding resolve, ready to conclude the battle that had plunged the city into chaos.
Wielding the newly formed sword whose blade could extend in shrink in the blink of an eye, Aedan engaged in a mighty clash, the crimson aura blade cutting through defenses with ease. The fire-based attacks, once formidable, proved futile against a weapon of made of pure anger and hatred from those he hurt. Any hint of fire launched at Aedan was promptly absorbed by the long aura blade, never to be seen again.
As the sparks in his belt flew away and hunted down the remaining enemies at his command, Aedan approached the fallen Andrich Castellan, who lay defeated and vulnerable.
Andrich spat out, "You think you can destroy me and claim victory for the weak? This city belongs to the Castellan family, and it will not fall into the hands of rebels like you!"
Aedan, his voice dripping with disdain, retorted, "Your family's rule ends today, Andrich. This city has suffered enough under your tyranny."
Andrich, with a grimacing smirk, muttered, "You may have defeated me, but the Castellan legacy will endure. Others will rise to take my place."
Aedan, unmoved by the threat, replied, "Your legacy is one of oppression and darkness. It ends with you."
In a sudden burst of anger, Andrich snarled, "You fool! Do you think killing me will change anything? The corruption runs deep in the veins of this empire. You can't escape it."
Aedan, raising the crystallized sword, declared, "Maybe not, but I can damn well try. I never planned to exterminate your family like this, my true tagged is the old man and his pet demon demon after all but you who gave me a reason and now will pay for it."
As Aedan made a grabbing motion above Andrich's head, the man's screams filled the air. Aedan, his eyes holding a mix of determination and cold resolve, whispered, "Let this be a lesson so you can fare better in a next life."
The exchange left the once-mighty Andrich Castellan reduced to a hollow shell, a silent testament to the consequences of unchecked power and the pursuit of one's twisted ambitions.
In the eerie aftermath of the intense battle, the air hung heavy with the acrid stench of burnt remains and the weight of Aedan's actions. He surveyed the scene, his once-vibrant crimson crystal sword now dormant, returned as four heartsparks. The last one, the spark used for the basis of the sword bore the scars of the intense clash, its cracks more pronounced than ever.
Victory had been achieved, yet Aedan couldn't escape the internal conflict that churned within him. The flames that had danced in his eyes, fueled by the heat of battle, now dwindled into a cold determination. The once-mighty Andrich Castellan lay nearby, a haunting emblem of emptiness amidst the chaos that had just unfolded.
As the citizens, initially mistaking Aedan for a monstrous force, now stared in awe and fear, a strange mixture of emotions swept through the crowd. Some rejoiced in the fall of the Castellan family, while others cast wary glances toward the solitary figure against the backdrop of a city in disarray.
Aedan, victorious but burdened, prepared to leave the scene. The citizens, their voices forming a tumultuous murmur, expressed a mix of gratitude and trepidation. Aedan paid little heed, his thoughts consumed by the consequences of his actions and the inexorable path he had chosen.
The night, once a canvas painted in the hues of blood and fire, now whispered a haunting melody of uncertainty. Soon the the City of Hunter was far away from his view as he got one step closer to the capital where the real show would take place.