The Duke let out a roar of fury, his hand slicing through the air as he unleashed a devastating magical ability: "Air Magic: Tempest Rend." A violent surge of wind erupted from him, sharp as blades and ferocious as a hurricane, tearing toward Noir. The sheer force of the magic shook the earth, its destructive energy obliterating a distant mountain into dust and debris. The winds howled with an almost sentient rage, but beneath their wrath lay a price—the Duke staggered momentarily, his breath faltering as the strain of wielding such immense power visibly drained him.
Noir didn't flinch. His form flickered, dissolving into shadow just as the attack ripped through the space he had occupied. The winds howled through empty air, scattering the terrain around them into chaos. Within the blink of an eye, Noir reappeared directly in front of the Duke, his hand snapping out like a striking serpent to clamp around the Duke's throat.
Noir's grip tightened, his expression unreadable save for the faint glint of dark amusement in his eyes. With a bone-shaking crash, he drove the Duke into the ground, the earth splitting beneath them as shockwaves rippled outward. The impact left a crater, cracks spidering out in every direction, as if the world itself recoiled from Noir's power. The Duke's body struggled beneath him, writhing and surging with energy, but Noir's hold was unrelenting, his gaze unyielding.
Leaning in close, Noir's voice dropped to a low, deadly whisper, laced with venom. "I know about the vampires lurking beneath this city, hiding in the shadows like rats in the gutter, pathetic vermin. Tell me what you know, or I'll drag your soul to Nyros myself and ensure you burn for eternity."
The Duke snarled, his body surging with raw, unrefined power as he unleashed another burst of magic. "Air Magic: Wailing Surge!" A violent explosion of compressed air and energy erupted outward, forcing Noir off him with enough force to hurl him into the air like a ragdoll. The blast sent debris flying in all directions, carving gouges into the earth around them. The Duke didn't hesitate—he followed up in an instant, launching himself into the air with a feral cry. His knee drove into Noir's ribs mid-flight with brutal precision, the crack of bone reverberating like a gunshot.
Noir grunted as the blow sent him spiraling through the air, but the Duke wasn't done. Closing the distance with astonishing speed, he spun on his heel and delivered a devastating elbow strike to Noir's back, driving him downward into the ancient trunk of a towering tree. The wood exploded into splinters on impact, the mighty tree collapsing under the force as Noir crumpled to the ground amidst the debris.
Before Noir could recover, the Duke surged forward again, raining down a vicious combination of strikes. A flying knee connected with Noir's jaw, snapping his head back, followed by a spinning backfist that sent him sprawling to the side. As Noir tried to regain his footing, the Duke was relentless—he leapt into the air, delivering a crushing downward elbow to Noir's shoulder, driving him back to the ground. Each strike was precise, brutal, and merciless, a testament to the Duke's mastery of close combat.
Standing over his opponent, the Duke's eyes burned with an infernal glow, his chest heaving with exertion as he roared, "I answer to no man! I am the storm, and you are nothing but dust beneath my feet!"
Blood trickled down Noir's face, yet his lips curled into that same chilling smile, his crimson eyes gleaming with something dark and unrelenting. He pushed himself up, his movements deliberate, as if the pain only fueled his resolve. "You will answer to me," he whispered, his voice like a death knell.
Noir unsheathed his katana with a deliberate, fluid motion, the blade gleaming like liquid silver under the pale moonlight. The air around him grew heavy, dark magic crackling like thunder. His voice rang out, cold and commanding, as he invoked his power.
"You spoke of flames rebuked by the heavens?" Noir's tone was razor-sharp, his words dripping with malice. "Let's see which flames your soul can endure."
With a flourish, Noir raised his katana and snarled, "Fire Magic: Crimson Coat!"
The blade ignited with molten flames, the fire snaking up and down its length as if alive, roaring with an insatiable hunger. The heat radiating from the weapon warped the air around it, distorting the Duke's vision. The ground beneath Noir's feet blackened and melted, the flames' intensity overwhelming even the earth itself.
Noir moved, his speed so blinding that the Duke barely had time to react. He darted forward, a streak of fire and shadow, his katana slashing toward the Duke in a fiery arc. The Duke raised his arms to block, summoning another Tempest Rend to shield himself, but Noir's flames tore through the barrier like paper, searing through the Duke's defenses.
The katana connected, the flames biting into the Duke's flesh with a searing hiss. The Duke roared in agony, staggering back as the fire consumed his arm, leaving blackened, charred skin in its wake. Noir pressed his advantage, delivering a flurry of precise strikes. Each slash was a symphony of fire and steel, cutting through armor and flesh alike, forcing the Duke further and further into retreat.
Desperate, the Duke gathered his strength for one final attack. "You'll burn with me!" he bellowed, summoning an enormous vortex of wind and flame, a desperate fusion of his magic into a cataclysmic assault. The vortex spiraled toward Noir with devastating force, threatening to consume everything in its path.
Noir stood his ground, his katana poised. His voice was calm, almost mocking. "Burn with you? No." The flames on his blade flared even brighter, their intensity reaching an almost blinding peak. He swung the katana in a wide arc, releasing a wave of fire that collided with the vortex head-on. The resulting explosion lit up the night, the shockwave flattening the surrounding forest.
When the dust settled, the Duke lay sprawled on the ground, his body charred and broken. Noir stood over him, his katana still glowing faintly, the flames slowly receding. Blood dripped from Noir's wounds, but his grin remained, cold and victorious.
Leaning down, he whispered into the Duke's ear, "You had power, but no discipline. No restraint. That is why you lost."
The Duke groaned, his strength failing him as he slumped into unconsciousness. Noir straightened, sliding his katana back into its sheath. His crimson eyes glowed faintly as he turned away, leaving the Duke defeated and broken amidst the smoldering ruins of their battlefield.