The air in the great hall was suffocating, heavy with the remnants of violence. The faint echoes of earlier clashes seemed to whisper through the fractured stone walls, a haunting symphony of groans and crashes that refused to fade. The once-grand chamber was now a battlefield of ruin. Splintered pillars leaned precariously, and intricate carvings that once adorned the walls were defaced with jagged slashes and streaks of blood. Dust floated lazily in the dim torchlight, creating an otherworldly haze that clung to the destruction like a veil.
From the shattered entrance, a figure emerged. Avi, his movements devoid of consciousness yet radiating an unsettling purpose, stepped forward. His silhouette was outlined by the flickering torches, casting long shadows that danced like restless spirits against the walls. Each step he took sent faint tremors through the crumbling floor, the sound of his boots crunching over debris sharp against the eerie silence. Behind him lay a path of carnage—guards sprawled across the floor, clutching their wounds, walls marked with deep gashes, and streaks of crimson painting a macabre trail.
At the center of the chaos stood Ethan, a grotesque figure illuminated by the unsteady flames. His cracked, sludge-covered body seemed to pulsate with an unnatural rhythm, the black ooze dripping from his skin pooling at his feet and corroding the floor beneath him. In one hand, he held Tyler, gripping his neck with a cruel nonchalance. Tyler dangled like a broken marionette, his arms limp, his body heaving faintly in a desperate bid for air.
Ethan's face twisted into a nightmarish grin as he turned his attention to Avi. His blackened eyes gleamed with malevolence, the sludge seeping from the cracks in his face giving him an almost demonic appearance. His voice, sharp and mocking, echoed through the ruined hall, bouncing off the cracked walls with an unnatural resonance.
"There he is, my favorite classmate!" Ethan's words dripped with venom, each syllable slicing through the suffocating silence. "I thought I'd have to kill every last one of your pathetic friends to drag you out of hiding. But no matter—you're here now, and I can finally tear you apart."
With a derisive chuckle, Ethan released his grip, letting Tyler's body fall unceremoniously to the ground. The sound of Tyler's collapse—a sickening thud—reverberated through the chamber. He crumpled into a heap, motionless save for the shallow rise and fall of his chest. The flickering torchlight reflected off the sweat and blood staining his face, his once-bright determination reduced to a faint, flickering ember of life.
Ethan turned his full attention to Avi, spreading his arms wide as if welcoming an old friend. His grin stretched impossibly further, exposing teeth darkened by sludge. The black ooze on his body writhed like living tendrils, coiling and uncoiling in anticipation.
"Well? Aren't you going to say something, hero?" Ethan sneered, his tone a blend of mockery and fury. "Oh, that's right—you're too noble for words. Too much of a martyr to do anything but fight, fight, fight! But look at you now." He gestured with a dramatic flourish to the wreckage around them. "This is what your silence brings. Ruin. Despair. Death. And still, you think you can stop me?"
Avi's gaze didn't waver, though his expression was empty, his body moving as if guided by an unseen force. The faint glow of the torches flickered against the sheen of blood on his skin, highlighting the cuts and bruises marring his body. His blade, still steady in his hand, gleamed faintly, reflecting the chaos around him like a shard of the past.
For a moment, the two figures stood in stark contrast—Avi, silent and steady amidst the destruction, and Ethan, a writhing embodiment of chaos and hate. The room seemed to hold its breath, the air thick with the promise of another clash, one that would shake the fragile remnants of the great hall to its very foundation.
Ethan lunged forward, his cracked body glowing faintly with malevolent energy. Tendrils of black sludge twisted and pulsed around his fist, radiating an ominous power. He struck Avi with explosive force, the impact reverberating through the great hall like a cannon blast. Both bodies hurtled into a nearby wall, which buckled and cracked under the force, fissures snaking outward in jagged lines. The floor beneath the collision trembled, small shards of stone raining down as if the entire castle itself was wincing under the strain.
Avi slumped against the fractured wall for a moment, blood trickling down his forehead and tracing a thin line along his face. His body moved again before the dust could settle, driven by something beyond consciousness. In a seamless motion, he propelled himself off the wall and delivered a devastating kick to Ethan's chest. The impact echoed through the hall like the toll of a bell, the force sending Ethan flying backward. Before Ethan could touch the ground, Avi blurred into motion, driving a brutal punch into Ethan's jaw. The blow was so precise, so instinctual, that it seemed preordained—a strike meant to shatter.
Ethan crashed into the floor with enough force to crater the stone beneath him. Dust billowed upward in thick, choking clouds, briefly obscuring both combatants. The room, filled with the groans of fractured walls and the quiet creaks of structural strain, fell eerily silent.
From the center of the crater, a guttural, unhinged laugh erupted. Ethan pushed himself up, black sludge oozing from the cracks in his skin and pooling around him. His grin widened, splitting his face into a grotesque display of malice.
"Is that all you've got?" he sneered, his voice a twisted blend of mockery and rage. "Come on, Avi! Don't disappoint me now. I've been waiting for this ever since you 'killed' me. You think you're the hero of this story, don't you?!"
Avi's body remained silent, his face an unreadable mask devoid of emotion. His movements were a contradiction—fluid yet mechanical, a harmony of instinct honed through countless battles. He advanced like a predator, his obsidian blade glinting dimly in the flickering torchlight.
Ethan rushed again, his body a blur of darkness and sludge. Avi pivoted to the side at the last second, his blade slicing cleanly through the air. The edge grazed Ethan's shoulder, sending a spray of viscous black sludge onto the floor. The liquid hissed and sizzled, eating away at the stone where it landed.
Ethan snarled, pivoting on his heel to deliver a sweeping kick. The floor beneath him cracked and groaned from the sheer force of his movements. Avi leaped back, the blow narrowly missing his ribs but sending a shockwave that rippled through the stone. Without pause, Avi countered with a flurry of slashes. Each strike was precise, each movement economical, as if his body were following an ancient rhythm only it could hear.
But Ethan was fast—unnaturally so. His movements were erratic yet effective, evading or parrying each slash with a mixture of brute strength and inhuman speed. Black tendrils coiled around his arms, forming makeshift shields that absorbed several of Avi's blows.
"You think staying silent makes you stronger?!" Ethan taunted, his voice rising to a manic crescendo. "You think you can ignore me?!"
Avi's blade met Ethan's sludge-coated arm with a resounding clash, the impact sending shockwaves through the room. Chunks of stone walls crumbled, and a nearby pillar groaned ominously before collapsing in a cloud of dust and debris. The torches lining the walls flickered violently, their light casting distorted, chaotic shadows across the ruined hall.
Ethan surged forward, slamming his fist into Avi's ribs with a sickening crunch. The force sent Avi skidding across the floor, his boots carving deep grooves into the cracked stone. He stopped only when his back collided with another wall, a faint splatter of blood marking the impact.
Yet he rose again, his movements unyielding, his blade at the ready. He charged, his figure a blur of deadly intent. Their clash intensified—a hurricane of strikes, slashes, and parries that sent sparks and sludge flying in all directions. Ethan's laughter grew louder, more deranged, as if he were feeding on the chaos.
"That's it! Fight me, Avi!" Ethan bellowed, his grin stretching impossibly wide. "Show me what the 'great hero' is capable of! Prove to me you're not just some mindless puppet!"
But Avi didn't respond. He couldn't. His body moved with the precision of a weapon unsheathed, a force of nature that needed no words.
The destruction around them was total. The grand hall, once a symbol of unity and strength, was now a battlefield of ruin. Massive cracks spiderwebbed through the walls, and pieces of the ceiling began to crumble, falling like heavy stones into the growing pools of blood and sludge on the floor. The intricate carvings and banners that once adorned the walls were shredded and torn, reduced to forgotten relics of a more hopeful time.
At the entrance to the great hall, guards who had sided with Ethan stood frozen. Their weapons hung limply at their sides as they watched the battle, their faces a mixture of awe and fear. They had witnessed Ethan's power firsthand—seen him break fighters, supports, and production classes alike. Yet now, that same terrifying force was meeting an opponent who fought with a raw, unrelenting fury.
From the shadows, Caleb, Lucas, and the other freed prisoners emerged, their expressions pale as they took in the spectacle. Caleb's voice was a low whisper, carrying an uncharacteristic weight of dread.
"He's… fighting like something else entirely."
Lucas's gaze darted to the crumpled form of Tyler on the ground. "Tyler!" he called out, his voice tinged with desperation. But Tyler stirred, groaning as he forced himself to his feet.
With a roar of determination, Tyler lifted his axe and charged into the fray. His [Berserker Strike] cleaved through the air, aimed directly at Ethan's back.
Ethan turned at the last second, catching Tyler's axe mid-swing with a single hand. The black sludge coiled around the weapon, freezing it in place. Ethan's free hand lashed out, slamming into Tyler's chest with enough force to send him flying. Tyler's body hit the ground with a bone-rattling thud, and he lay still once more.
"Tyler!" Lucas shouted, his voice breaking.
Ethan turned back to Avi, his grin unbroken. "See? All your little friends—useless. Just like you."
Avi's body didn't flinch, his blade rising once more. Injuries accumulated across his body, blood dripping onto the stone floor in steady beats. But he kept fighting, kept moving, every strike a symphony of deadly precision.
The guards, prisoners, and rebels alike stood transfixed, unable to look away. The fight was no longer just a battle—it was a clash of forces beyond their understanding, a storm of violence that threatened to consume them all.