The battle was taking its toll on Benjo, Lyra, and Rico. They were exhausted, their energies drained. Rico and Lyra had fallen, unable to fight any longer. Benjo stood alone, weakened but determined.
He looked at Moros, the ruthless warlock standing tall, seemingly unaffected by the battle. Benjo felt a pang of despair. Was this the end?
Just as he was about to lose hope, he heard a voice. It was faint at first, but it grew stronger, echoing in his mind. It was the Dark Sorcerer.
"I was wrong, Benjo," the Sorcerer's voice echoed. "You are not like me. You are stronger, braver. You fight not for power, but for hope, for Lumina."
With those words, Benjo felt a surge of energy. The Dark Sorcerer was giving him his remaining power. He felt stronger, his magic more potent than ever.
With a renewed sense of hope and determination, Benjo faced Moros. The final battle was far from over, and he was ready to give it his all.