He sheathed his blade, hands moving in intricate patterns.
The air around him shimmered with heat. Fire - blue, red, and black - spiraled around his form, coalescing into a rippling aura.
Zellrid charged, a primal howl tearing from his throat. Multiple arms sprouted from his torso, each clutching a crackling blade of pure energy.
They met in a cataclysm of fire and lightning.
The shockwave leveled buildings for a block in every direction.
Typhon roared overhead, unleashing gouts of flame to incinerate falling debris before it could crush fleeing civilians.
At the epicenter, Aerovind and Zellrid grappled. Flesh sizzled. Lightning arced. For a moment, they were obscured entirely by a maelstrom of competing energies.
Then - clarity.
Aerovind stood, one hand gripping Zellrid's shirt, the other pressed against his forehead. Black flames danced between his fingers, seeping into Zellrid's skull.
The extra arms withered and vanished.
"I'm sorry pal, i got a revenge to seek," Aerovind murmured.
Zellrid's eyes cleared. For a fleeting moment, gratitude shone in them. Then they rolled back, and he collapsed.
Silence fell, broken only by the crackle of lingering flames and distant screams.
Typhon landed nearby, crushing a fallen statue beneath its bulk.
Aerovind hefted Zellrid's unconscious form over his shoulder.
He surveyed the devastation, jaw tight.
A tiny voice piped up from behind a ruined wall. "Is... is it over?"
Ela peeked out, clutching her teddy bear. Soot streaked her cheeks.
Aerovind's eyes softened a fraction. "Yeah, kid. For now."
Typhon's rumbling voice shook the air. "He is not to be pure yet."
A weary sigh escaped Aerovind's lips. He fished out a cigarette, lighting it with a fingersnap.
"Then I guess we're not done yet." He glanced at the ruined cityscape. "Ordeon's gonna love this paperwork."
Typhon's colossal body twisted sinuously amidst the dilapidated structures, each movement causing his jagged scales to grate against the weathered stones. The tip of his tail, adorned with a menacing row of serrated thorns, thrashed violently at the wreckage.
"You test my patience, worm," Typhon growled, voice dripping with disdain. His eyes, burning with ancient malice, fixed on Aerovind."
You have neglected the primary goal."
Aerovind took a long drag from his cigarette, the ember glowing an unnatural blue in the pre-dawn gloom. He exhaled a plume of smoke,regarding Typhon with casual indifference.
"Always with the dramatics, Typhon," Aerovind drawled, flicking ash from his cigarette. "One might think you actually cared."
One of Typhon's tails whipped towards Aerovind, faster than the eye could track. It met only air as Aerovind seemed to flicker out of existence, reappearing atop a fallen pillar.
"Touchy, aren't we?" Aerovind chuckled, lighting another cigarette with a snap of his fingers. "But as much as I'd love to dance, we've got more pressing matters."
Typhon's eyes narrowed, a low growl rumbling in his chest. "Speak, then. What chaos have you wrought this time, nameless ashen?"
Aerovind's expression hardened slightly, all traces of amusement vanishing. "The kingdom's bleed, Typhon. Three dead kings in as many moons. The realms teeter on the brink of all-out war."
"Assassination," Typhon snarled, smoke curling from his nostrils. "The shadow blades move with impunity, striking at the very heart of power. And you, no doubt, a fan of them."
A bitter chuckle escaped Aerovind's lips. "Oh, I wish I could take credit for such artistry. But this game is beyond even my considerable talents."
Their tense exchange was interrupted by movement from below. Zellrid, who had been slumped unconscious at Aerovind's feet, suddenly jerked awake with a strangled gasp. He tumbled to the ground, hitting the debris-strewn street with a pained grunt.
Aerovind made no move to help, simply watching as Zellrid began to crawl. The eldritch energy that had possessed him earlier was gone, leaving him weakened and disoriented. Where his right eye had once pulsed with otherworldly power, there was now only an empty socket.
"Well, look who's rejoined the land of the living," Aerovind drawled, falling into step beside the crawling Zellrid. A bemused grin played at his lips as he took another drag from his cigarette. "You're a real hothead, aren't you? Quite the mess you've made."
Zellrid's head snapped up, his remaining eye wild and unfocused. "Joseph," he rasped, fingers scrabbling against broken cobblestones. "Where... where is he?"
Aerovind gestured vaguely towards a collapsed building nearby. "Last I saw, your friend was cowering in there. Though given the state of things, he might be buried under a ton of rubble by now."
Undeterred, Zellrid continued his desperate crawl towards the ruined structure. Aerovind kept pace, smoke trailing behind him like a spectral banner.
"You know," Aerovind mused, his tone conversational, "the Nightstalkers seem awfully invested in keeping you breathing. Offered quite the prize for your safe return."
Typhon's massive head lowered, bringing one giant eye level with Aerovind. "The Key of Eternity," the dragon rumbled, voice laced with contempt. "A relic of immense power in the hands of a worthless mortal. The very thought sickens me."
Aerovind's eyes glittered with interest. "Now, now, Typhon. Don't be so quick to judge. Think of the possibilities."
The dragon snorted, a gout of flame singeing nearby debris. "I think of the destruction such power would wreak in your reckless hands, aerovind."
"Your lack of imagination wounds me," Aerovind replied, placing a hand over his heart in mock offense. His gaze returned to Zellrid, who had reached the edge of the collapsed building and was now trying to claw his way through the rubble. "Though I must admit, our one-eyed friend here has certainly piqued my curiosity. What do you say, Zellrid? Fancy a chat about what ever the fuck inside of you?"
Zellrid's only response was a determined growl as he continued his search for Joseph amidst the ruins. Aerovind chuckled, taking another long drag from his cigarette.
"No rush," he said, smoke curling around his words. "We've got all the time in the world. And something tells me this night is far from over."
Typhon's tails lashed impatiently, carving furrows in the street. "Enough of your games, mortal. What of Beelzebub? The whispers from the West grow louder with each passing day."