The Vex's mansion's grand hall, once a refined space, now lay in ruins. Shattered stone and splintered wood littered the floor, a stark backdrop for the three figures locked in vicious combat. As the sun climbed higher, its rays filtering through cracked windows, the very air was permeated with exhausted magic and raw desperation.
Gustavo's enchanted blade, its green glow now dim and flickering, sailed through the air. With a sickening crunch, it embedded itself in a far wall, leaving its wielder empty-handed. Malachi's smirk was triumphant, but short-lived as Mordred's fist connected with his jaw, snapping his head back.
"That all you got, pretty boy?" Malachi taunted, spitting blood. "I've had harder slaps from my grandmother!"
Mordred growled, frustration evident as he attempted to summon another blade. Nothing materialized. "Damn it!" he cursed, barely dodging Malachi's retaliatory swing.