Alaric laughed, though it was tinged with desperation. "You think you've won because you've cornered me? I am the High Inquisitor! My will is absolute!"
He raised his blade high, golden energy coalescing around him in a desperate bid to turn the tide. But Aiden was faster. Channeling the authority of the Lord of Pride, he unleashed a devastating counterstrike, the sheer force of which sent Alaric's sword flying from his grasp.
The High Inquisitor fell to his knees, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. His aura flickered like a dying flame, the once-imposing figure now reduced to vulnerability.
Aiden stood over him, his sword poised for the final blow. "This is your end, Alaric," he said, his tone devoid of mercy.
But before he could strike, a voice echoed through the battlefield, cold and commanding.
"Enough."
