The oppressive air thickened, but Kyrntar's eyes sharpened. There was still hope—if they could work together, they might stand a chance.
Kyrntar unsheathed his sword with a slow, deliberate motion, the light of the protective aura casting a sharp, radiant glow along the blade's edge. His voice, steady and commanding, cut through the heavy tension in the air, his words laced with authority.
"Druvon, take her hits—keep her focused on you." Kyrntar's eyes flicked to Vikra, crouched low, her breath sharp. "Vikra, shadows. Wait for your chance—make it count."
Druvon's jaw tightened, his muscles coiled like steel, ready to withstand the storm of Marra's fury. He nodded, his stoic face betraying the gravity of the fight ahead. Vikra, her eyes gleaming with sharp intent, gave a subtle nod, the corner of her lips twitching into a smirk despite the weight of the moment. She vanished into the dim light, slipping into the darkness like a whisper, her movements fluid and precise.
Kyrntar cast one last glance at Marra, her form now completely consumed by the malevolent power of the dragon amulet. Dark tendrils of energy swirled around her, cloaking her in an ominous shroud of frost and necrotic energy. Her once-human hand had twisted into a blackened, grotesque claw, pulsing with an unnatural chill that sent waves of icy death through the air. The sinister power radiating from her was suffocating, a tangible force that pressed against Kyrntar's chest.
His grip tightened around the hilt of his sword, knuckles tensed with determination. The weight of the moment settled on him like a heavy mantle, but there was no hesitation in his heart. With a deep breath, he called upon the divine, his body flooding with the radiant power of Warden's Fury. The light surged through him, crackling along his blade with a brilliance that stood in defiant contrast to the darkness surrounding Marra. Every muscle in his body tensed, his resolve hardening as he prepared to face the creature that had once been his ally.
"This is my atonement," he says quietly. "For failing to lead before. Let's end this."
"Atone? For what?" Marra's grin widened. "You're too late, Kyrntar. You always were. No one needs your pity, least of all me.
With a nod, the party moved. Druvon charged ahead, his hulking frame barreling toward Marra, shield raised to absorb her oncoming fury. The ground trembled with each of his steps, his presence an unyielding force.
Vikra vanished into the shadows, a phantom slipping between the cracks, eyes locked on Marra, poised for the perfect moment to strike. The air crackled with tension as they neared, the weight of battle heavy around them. Marra's wicked smile deepened, her corrupted form pulsing with dark energy. The fight was moments away, and the intensity was palpable.
Marra lets out a chilling laugh, her mace crackling with dark energy. "You think you can atone for this, Kyrntar? You're too late."
She swings her mace with deadly force, the black frost swirling around her. The cold necrotic energy bites into the air as the battle begins in earnest.
Druvon braced himself, a living wall against Marra's fury. Her corrupted eyes blazed, her mace crashing down with murderous force. Each strike reverberated through his shield, but Druvon didn't flinch—he was their shield, their last defense. He tried his best to draw her focus away from Kyrntar and Vikra as he weathered her storm with calm defiance.
Sweat poured down Kyrntar's brow as his trembling hands tightened around his greatsword. His heart pounded, each beat a reminder of the crushing weight of failure. With a roar, he swung, but Marra moved like a shadow, slipping out of reach. His blade sliced through empty air, his focus fractured by the storm of doubt gnawing at him. This wasn't just a missed strike—it was his fears manifesting, dragging him down.
Vikra vanished into the shadows, daggers gleaming, her target locked. But a loose stone betrayed her. Marra's head snapped around, that twisted grin spreading wide. Vikra froze—her chance was gone, frustration coiling tight in her chest.
Undeterred, she lunged, her blade aimed at Marra's exposed side. But the mounting tension made her strike clumsy, and Marra effortlessly deflected it, her mocking eyes piercing through Vikra's failure.
From behind Druvon's shield, Kyrntar struggled to steady himself, the weight of the battle pressing down on him. His voice cracked with desperation as he called out, "Marra! You're stronger than this! There's still time—break free!"
Her response was swift and cutting, a laugh that was colder than the frost that emanated from her. "Stronger? You fool." Her eyes gleamed with cruel amusement. "You were never my leader, Kyrntar. I only followed you because I had to. You were nothing more than a figurehead, pretending to lead, while the amulet showed me the truth—you're no leader. You never were. Not to me, not to Edric."
The words sliced through him like a blade, sharper than any physical wound. Kyrntar's breath caught in his throat, his heart aching as the lie settled into his chest, intertwining with the seeds of doubt already there. *Was it true? Had his friendship meant nothing?* His vision blurred, and for a moment, the weight of her accusation felt unbearable.
Suddenly, Marra's aura flared, a ripple of dark energy rolling through the chamber. It slammed into them like a tidal wave, forcing both Druvon and Kyrntar to stumble back, their footing momentarily lost. Even Vikra, hidden in the shadows, felt the overwhelming surge and had to catch herself against the cold stone wall. The oppressive power was suffocating, its malevolent force making the air thick and heavy, as though the very walls of the temple were closing in on them.
Kyrntar's legs shook, his body screaming under the strain. The battle was taking its toll. His grip on the sword tightened, each breath growing heavier, but the weight of his failures pressed harder. His grip on his sword tightened, but his resolve wavered as Marra's mocking gaze bore into him.
Marra seized the moment. She swung her mace in a wide arc, aiming straight for Kyrntar, her eyes wild with a vengeful gleam. But Druvon was there, his shield a steadfast barrier between the paladin and the deadly strike. The force of Marra's blow sent a shockwave through the shield, but Druvon held firm, deflecting her attack before it could even reach Kyrntar.
Suddenly, the very air around them thickened. A dark, choking energy swirled through the room, twisting the shadows and seeping into their lungs. Kyrntar staggered as the oppressive atmosphere intensified, each breath becoming a struggle against the malevolent force. His own warden amulet pulsed against his chest, its warm aura flickering cold as an abysmal influence began digging deeper into his mind. Despair clawed at his heart, the weight of failure pulling him down, drowning him in its icy grip.
The chamber itself seemed to come alive with dark energy, feeding off their fear and desperation. Marra's taunts, the crushing weight of the environment, and the relentless battle were all conspiring to tear them apart. The oppressive atmosphere thickened, as if the very temple itself sought to crush their spirits.
Druvon stood like a mountain before the onslaught of Marra's fury. Her corrupted eyes blazed with dark magic as she swung her mace with brutal strength, each strike meant to shatter the party. But Druvon's shield, broad and unyielding, met every attack with ironclad resolve. His body tensed with every impact, absorbing the force like a living fortress, protecting his companions from the worst of her wrath. He grunted as her mace hammered against him, but his feet remained planted, his stance unbroken. The dark energy around them pulsed, but Druvon held strong, deflecting each blow with the weight of his towering form, his presence a barrier between his allies and the chaos swirling around them. Marra snarled, her focus locked on him, frustrated by his defense.
Behind Druvon, Kyrntar's grip tightened around his sword as radiant energy surged through his veins. The Warden Fury coursed within him, filling him with the power of light as he took aim at Marra. His body moved with precision and fury, his sword cleaving through the darkness. With a cry of righteous fury, Kyrntar's blade connected with Marra's side, a burst of radiant light erupting on impact. The strike ripped through her, the corruption in her body amplifying the damage as the radiant energy seared her flesh. Marra's body jolted violently from the blow, her scream echoing through the chamber as the light tore at the dark magic that consumed her. The strike had been devastating, and for a moment, Kyrntar's heart swelled with hope.
But hope was fleeting. His next swing, fueled by momentum, was wild and unfocused. Marra, despite her injury, twisted with an eerie grace, dodging the follow-up attack with a mocking grin. Kyrntar's sword sliced through the air harmlessly, leaving him off-balance. His heart pounded in frustration as Marra's laughter echoed in his ears.
Vikra, lurking in the shadows, seized the moment. Her daggers gleamed in the faint light as she moved to strike, her body merging with the darkness. She was silent, deadly, her eyes fixed on Marra's exposed back. But as she neared her target, something in her approach faltered—Marra's eyes flicked toward her, sensing the danger. Vikra cursed under her breath as her cover was blown, her critical strike failing to land. She swung anyway, the blade catching Marra's arm with a sharp slice, drawing blood but failing to deal the damage she had hoped for. It was a hit, but not enough to turn the tide.
Amid the chaos, Marra's voice cut through the air like a poisoned blade. Her words were sharp, dripping with malice. "Is this all you have, Kyrntar? You'll never save anyone. Not her… not him." Doubt gnawed at him again, weakening his resolve just as he needed it most. His grip on his sword faltered, the light within him dimming under the shadow of his fear.
Marra, seizing the moment, raised her mace and brought it down toward Kyrntar, her face twisted in cruel triumph. But Druvon, ever the shield, was there in an instant. His massive frame shifted just enough to catch the blow with his own body, softening the strike aimed at his companion. The mace connected with a dull thud, sending a shockwave through Kyrntar, but thanks to Druvon's defense, the damage was minimal. Still, Kyrntar winced, feeling the impact reverberate through his bones, the weight of his doubts slowing his movements.
Kyrntar straightened, but every movement felt heavier, the weight of the prolonged battle bearing down on his weary body. His muscles screamed with exhaustion, yet his grip on the sword remained firm. The Warden Fury still simmered beneath his skin, flickering like a dying flame, waiting for one final surge. His breath came in ragged gasps, each inhale a struggle, but his resolve hadn't wavered. Not yet.
Beside him, Vikra, though battered and bruised, fought to steady her trembling hands. The failure of her earlier strike gnawed at her, but the fire in her eyes hadn't dimmed. She slipped into the shadows once more, her figure almost invisible, save for the determined gleam in her gaze. She would not falter again. Every muscle in her body ached, but the pain only sharpened her focus.
The air crackled with dark energy as Marra loomed before them, twisted and corrupted beyond recognition. Her aura pulsed with malevolent power, the dragon amulet around her neck gleaming with cold, dark light. Her once-human form was now a terrifying embodiment of darkness, and Kyrntar could feel the oppressive weight pressing down on his very soul.
Kyrntar's grip tightened around his greatsword, the radiant energy surging through him like a wildfire. His heart pounded with fury, but his mind remained sharp—this was it. Their final chance.
With a roar that echoed through the stone walls, Kyrntar charged forward. His sword, now alight with divine fury, blazed through the shadows. The weight of the sword in his hand felt like an extension of his very soul, the light guiding him as he brought it crashing down toward Marra.
The blade cleaved into her with all the force of a divine judgment, a searing light erupting upon impact. Marra recoiled, her corrupted form trembling beneath the might of the attack. For a brief moment, the oppressive gloom lifted as the radiant energy tore through her.
Kyrntar's breath caught, hope flickering—then Marra's grin returned. With a sickening crack, she raised her mace, dark frost swirling like a gathering storm. Her gaze locked onto him. In that instant, Kyrntar knew—this blow was meant to end him. And it was coming fast.