Akar stumbled back, gasping for breath, his fiery aura flickering against the encroaching darkness. The crowd fell silent, the weight of the moment crushing. Then, with a roar that seemed to shake the very foundations of the castle, Akár lunged. He threw his remaining strength into one final, desperate blow, aimed at Gareth's heart.
Gareth, weakened but unwavering, met the charge head-on. His blade, a shard of winter's fury, parried the crimson inferno. The blades locked, inches from each other's heartbeats, sparks erupting in a blinding vortex. The force of the clash sent both knights crashing to the ground, bodies broken and bloodied.
The stands erupted, a chaotic mix of cheers and panicked screams. The elders exchanged worried glances, while King Ethan gripped the armrests of his throne, knuckles white with tension. For a moment, the world held its breath.
