Ashen's breath came in ragged gasps as he stood back up, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth. The tension in the air was suffocating, the weight of the Death Lord's power looming like a dark cloud ready to descend and crush them both. Pyro, still locked in his [Berserk Mode], was panting heavily but stood tall, the flames of his Zweihander flickering, unwilling to die out just yet. They had reached the breaking point.
The battlefield around them was a wasteland of ash and broken earth. The remnants of the earlier storm still crackled in the distance, the once ferocious wind now little more than a whisper. Bodies of the fallen, both friend and foe, littered the ground, their souls long since claimed by the Death Lord's insidious aura.
