Asmodeus roared, his composure fracturing like shattered glass. Black energy thickened around him, swirling in a storm of fury. His strikes and ice lashed out, wild and unrestrained—a beast's last thrash before being subdued.
The ground trembled as spikes of ice and cracks spread across the arena floor. Each swing of Asmodeus's blade tore through the air, raw force behind every blow, enough to crush steel and bone. Elias felt the weight of every strike, each one testing the limits of his endurance, pushing him back.
The sword in Elias's hand trembled, the hum of Manna flickering—as if it, too, were testing him. One misstep, one moment of doubt, and the tide could shift again.
He gritted his teeth, steadying his stance and breathing through the ache in his side, the heaviness in his limbs. This fight wasn't about overpowering his enemy now—it was about outlasting him, letting the Devourer's own arrogance unravel.
Asmodeus sensed it, too. His face twisted into a snarl, golden eyes blazing. "Do you think you're the first mortal to challenge me?" His words dripped with venom, each syllable a weapon. "You'll fall like all the others."
Elias said nothing. He let silence answer for him.
Asmodeus's sneer deepened, and his blade swung faster, harder—desperation edging each motion. The Devourer could feel control slipping, the end creeping closer, just out of reach.
But Elias moved with purpose, not panic. His strikes were deliberate, patient, guided by Manna and instinct. He wasn't chasing victory. He was waiting for it to find him.
Asmodeus lunged, his blade arcing in a deadly sweep aimed at Elias's neck. Elias twisted just in time, the black edge slicing inches from his throat. The Devourer's laughter echoed through the arena, sharp and cold. "Do you see now?" he taunted, circling him. "You're nothing."
Elias exhaled slowly, resetting his stance. He blinked away the sweat stinging his eyes, feeling the rhythm of the battle shift beneath him. The time had come—he could feel it, like the weight of an oncoming storm.
He adjusted his grip, the sword vibrating with newfound purpose in his hands.
Asmodeus charged, his blade a blur of dark light. Elias sidestepped at the last second, feeling the rush of the missed strike. Before Asmodeus could recover, Elias stepped into his guard, his movements smooth, effortless.
Then came the sharp sound of steel slicing through bone.
The sword in his hand moved like a brushstroke across canvas, cutting through the air in a perfect arc. Golden sparks and tendrils of shadow danced along the blade as it sliced through Asmodeus's defenses.
The Devourer staggered, eyes wide with shock. He hadn't seen it coming.
Elias pressed forward, his movements fluid, unrelenting—not driven by rage, but by calm resolve. He could feel the faint burn of Kairo's anger in the back of his mind, but he let it go. This wasn't about revenge or regret; it was about choosing a different path.
Asmodeus stumbled, his perfect smile crumbling. The cracks in his pride spread like spiderwebs, widening with each passing second.
Elias knew the moment had come. He raised the sword high, the glow of Manna blindingly bright. For an instant, the weight of Astravell, Kairo's memories, and the voices of his friends merged into one.
With a final breath, Elias brought the sword down.
The blade sliced clean through Asmodeus's chest, and the Devourer let out a scream that ripped through the very fabric of reality. Light and shadow exploded outward, Astravell's energy flooding the darkness and devouring it.
Asmodeus fractured, splintered—and shattered. The sword devoured him like a long-awaited feast.
The arena trembled as Asmodeus's essence faded, the last shadows dispersing in a golden flood. The hum of Manna quieted, settling into a soft, steady thrum beneath the surface—a reminder of what had been won.
Elias exhaled, lowering the sword. His limbs ached, but his heart felt light. It was over.
Naomi, Dan, and Ava rushed to his side, their faces a mix of relief and exhaustion.
"You did it," Naomi whispered, her voice barely audible. "You really did it."
Dan grinned, clapping Elias on the back. "Not bad, buddy."
Ava buried her face in Elias's chest, her voice muffled. "I knew you could do it."
Elias smiled—a small, tired smile, but real. And for the first time in a long while, he closed his eyes in peace.