A blinding light erupted from the sky, streaking like a vengeful comet across the battlefield. Its searing heat hit me even before I could react, forcing me to stumble back. The air around me ignited with a blistering wave of fire, making it impossible to breathe.
My instincts flared, and with the last dregs of my mana, I slammed my staff into the ground, conjuring a protective dome spell around myself. The shimmering barrier materialized just as the comet crashed, engulfing the world in an earth-shattering explosion of fire and raw power.
The shockwave roared like an angry god, scorching everything in its path. Flames spiraled outward in a furious maelstrom, swallowing the cracked earth in a blazing inferno. The ground ruptured, tearing apart into a deep, smoking trench as if the very world split open in protest.
Astoroth was launched backward, his monstrous form spiraling through the air like a broken puppet before crashing into the distant ruins, leaving a jagged, gaping scar on the battlefield.
My ears rang, my vision blurred, and the heat still pressed against my protective shield, threatening to melt it entirely. When the blast finally subsided, all that remained was a scorched wasteland, still smoldering and glowing with fading embers.
And where Astoroth once stood, there was someone else.
Through the swirling smoke and dying flames, a figure emerged—taller and broader than the boy I remembered, his shoulders squared with an unmistakable strength. His burning eyes reflected the very fire that had shattered the ground.
Kael.
His fists still smoldered with trailing embers, his stance as solid as the earth he'd torn asunder. The heatwaves rippled around him like a living aura, and in that moment...
He looked every bit the unstoppable force that had just fallen from the heavens.
"I'm cool, right?" he asked, his voice deeper now, rougher—but still unmistakably Kael. His long, wind-tossed hair framed his face, and there it was—a ridiculous attempt at a mustache that did absolutely nothing for his boyish features. He looked like a teenager trying to be taken seriously at a tavern. I almost laughed. Almost.
"You grew a mustache," I said flatly.
He smirked wider. "You like it?"
I shook my head. "Not even a little."
He chuckled and ran a hand through his longer hair. "Figured as much." His stance shifted, his presence radiating something... different. Gone was the brash, reckless boy who once threw himself headfirst into danger with nothing but raw speed and stubborn determination. What stood before me now was something far more composed—controlled.
"I learned a lot from our goodbye, Thalia," he said, his tone softening for a moment. "I figured out how to control and explode my Chi flow... not just let it loose like before." His hands sparked faintly as if the very air couldn't contain his energy.
His gaze met mine—steady, confident, and far too mature for the young man I remembered. How long had it been? Half a year? It felt like a lifetime. Did kids these days just... grow up this fast?
"So, you're not just the thunder boy I knew before?" I asked, my chest tightening with a mixture of relief and dread. He shouldn't be here. Not in this cursed battlefield. He had so much left to live for if this all went wrong...
But his Chi pulsed around him, fierce and untamed but somehow balanced. He could handle himself now.
"So far," he said, raising both hands, flames flickering in one and electric sparks dancing across the other, "I've mastered two types of Chi flow—Thunder and Fire. Turns out... they work really well together."
I couldn't help but smirk despite everything. "Show-off."
Kael turned toward the distant figure rising from the shattered remains of the battlefield. Astoroth. Broken and bloodied... but still standing, still marching toward us like an unstoppable storm. His crimson aura crackled like burning chains dragging across the ruined ground.
"So... that's him?" Kael asked, tilting his head toward the towering demon.
"Yep," I said grimly. "The last demon left. I killed Lucian."
Kael's eyes widened briefly, then lit with admiration. "Still cool, Thalia."
Before I could respond, Kael clenched his fists, his knuckles popping as he stretched his arms again. There was fire in his gaze now—a burning determination that couldn't be ignored.
"One of my students joined the Kingdom's army about a month ago... came here to fight," he said quietly. "Never heard from him again after that."
He rolled his neck, cracking it as he shifted into a combat stance, his fiery aura surging and intensifying like a growing inferno. Astoroth loomed closer.
"And now," Kael growled, lightning flickering at his fingertips, "I think I know why."
"You don't have to do this," I warned, though even I knew it was pointless.
He smirked. "I'm not the kid you said goodbye to. You taught me that power means nothing if you don't stand for something."
Astoroth let out a guttural growl, his claws tightening around his hammers. The ground trembled beneath his steps, the sheer force of his presence weighing down like an impending storm.
Kael flexed his fingers, electricity crackling at his fingertips, mingling with the searing heat of his Chi. "I got this, Thalia. Back me up when you can."
Before I could respond, he shot forward like a blazing comet—thunder and fire colliding into Astoroth with explosive force.
Kael surged forward like a living inferno crackling ground in his wake. His left fist crackled with electric fury, while his right burned with molten intensity. The very air around him distorted from the heat and static, making him appear as if he were wrapped in a cloak of storms and flame.
Astoroth met him head-on, his massive war-hammers raised high. As they clashed, the battlefield erupted into chaos.
Kael swung his left fist first—a thunder-infused punch that tore through the air with a deafening crack. The force alone shattered the ground beneath them, sending out a concussive shockwave. Astoroth conjured a wall of dark, jagged magic in defense, but Kael's punch smashed through it like brittle glass, driving the demon lord back several paces.
Before Astoroth could recover, Kael twisted his body, flames roaring around his right arm as he launched a fiery uppercut aimed directly at Astoroth's chest. The demon barely managed to deflect the attack with one of his hammers, the heat so intense that molten metal dripped from the weapon's edge.
Astoroth retaliated with a brutal downward swing of his remaining hammer, conjuring tendrils of dark energy to entangle Kael's feet. But Kael was faster. He tore free with a surge of electricity and spun, slamming his burning fist into Astoroth's side, sending him skidding across the battlefield.
Astoroth roared, spreading his arms wide, summoning a dome of swirling darkness that pulsed outward like a destructive wave. Kael stood his ground, crossing his arms in front of his chest as lightning surged around him, absorbing much of the blast—but even he staggered back, his boots digging trenches in the earth.
"That all you got?" Kael spat, flames licking at his lips.
With another war cry, Kael charged, thunder roaring in time with his every step. Astoroth met him, his shattered hammer reforming into two jagged, pitch-black constructs, crackling with demonic energy. They collided again—light and darkness, fire and shadow, rage and purpose.
With blinding speed, Kael unleashed a barrage of alternating strikes—lightning-infused left jabs that cracked ribs and fire-drenched right hooks that scorched flesh. Each punch landed with enough force to shake the earth itself. Astoroth reeled, barely keeping up as Kael drove him back with relentless fury.
Seeing an opening, Kael roared and unleashed a final, devastating strike—a combined punch from both fists, surging with storm and fire. Astoroth roared in defiance, crossing his two dark-forged hammers to block the incoming blow.
The moment of impact shattered the world around them.
The hammers disintegrated into ash upon contact, exploding into dark mist. Astoroth skidded back, his massive form forced to a knee, smoke and embers rising from his battered chest.
Kael straightened, breathing heavily but still standing tall, his fists still smoldering with burning power.
Astoroth let out a guttural snarl, dragging himself back to his feet despite the molten burns and cracks spreading across his twisted body. Even broken, even kneeling, he still radiated dominance—unrelenting, indomitable. He would not fall. Not like this.
But we weren't done. Not yet.
I raised my staff high, summoning the last remnants of my dwindling mana. A deep, resonant hum pulsed through the battlefield as glowing arcane sigils erupted into the air behind Astoroth, forming something far more sinister than a simple symbol.
A towering cross forged of darkened steel and entwined with living, coiling serpents of blazing mana emerged from the earth. Its jagged edges glinted like forged blades, while the serpents writhed with predatory intent, hissing with untamed energy.
"Bind!" I commanded.
The serpents struck first, snapping toward Astoroth's limbs with lethal precision. They wrapped around his chest, constricting his torso, forcing him backward with a monstrous growl. His feet dug into the scorched ground, but he couldn't resist their crushing strength.
With a thunderous crash, his back slammed against the steel cross. Metal spikes locked into place at his shoulders and waist, locking him into a brutal, immovable crucifixion.
Astoroth howled in defiance, the sound shaking the very earth beneath us, but he couldn't break free. The serpents twisted tighter, holding him still—alive, furious, but trapped.
"Now!" I shouted, breathless.
Kael surged forward, fists igniting with thunder and fire. His first punch struck Astoroth's chest with the force of a meteor, driving a shockwave through the entire battlefield. The serpents coiled tighter in response, locking him even further against the unyielding steel.
Before Astoroth could react, Sir Cedric appeared in a blur of relentless precision. With a powerful cry, he drove his greatsword into Astoroth's gut, the blade piercing deep into the steel cross behind him, anchoring the demon like a pinned beast.
Rowan followed an instant later. With an echoing war cry, he hurled his enchanted lance with every ounce of his might. It struck true, piercing Astoroth's left arm and pinning it to the unyielding metal.
Astoroth's struggles grew more desperate, his inhuman muscles straining against the deadly embrace of steel and magic.
"Right side!" Rowan barked.
From the opposite flank, Roderick charged like a force of nature. His great axe gleamed under the crimson-stained sky as he swung with brutal finality. The blade cleaved into Astoroth's right shoulder, embedding deep into the cross's steel, locking his remaining arm in place.
The battlefield fell silent but for the rasp of our strained breaths. Astoroth thrashed, snarling like a cornered beast, his power still immense—but his struggles were futile. He was crucified, bound by both the living serpents of magic and unyielding steel.
Still gasping for air, Kael stepped forward, fists burning with barely restrained energy, ready for another blow.
But a sharp, commanding voice cut through the stillness.
"Step back."
We turned our eyes skyward.
She hovered there—Sihir, radiant and terrifying, suspended like some vengeful goddess. Her hair blazed like molten fire, whipping violently in the magical storm she conjured around herself. Her piercing blue eyes burned with apocalyptic purpose, locked solely on Astoroth.
Her staff glowed an intense emerald, arcs of unstable energy spiraling along its length. Above it hovered a colossal arcane sigil, rotating and shifting with infinite complexity, its lines etched with symbols older than time itself. It pulsed, seething with raw, destructive force, hungry for release.
Sihir's staff pulsed with violent arcane energy, her eyes blazing with raw power. She raised her staff high, its tip burning with radiant green light as the sigils circling her crackled and expanded. Her voice rang across the battlefield, cold and commanding:
"Worldbreaker."
The sigil surged with burning brilliance. Then, with a deafening crack that shattered the air, it unleashed its fury.
A blinding beam of searing green magic lashed downward, tearing through the heavens like the wrath of the gods themselves. The beam was impossibly wide, consuming everything in its path with blinding intensity. The ground beneath it cracked and collapsed, unable to withstand the power descending from the sky.
Astoroth snarled defiantly, still straining against the serpentine chains and steel that held him bound. He didn't flinch. He didn't close his eyes. Even in the face of utter annihilation, he met his fate with wrathful, burning pride.
The beam struck with a deafening explosion that shook the entire battlefield. The earth shattered in a violent eruption, sending shockwaves that knocked us off our feet. The sheer intensity of the blast scorched the sky itself, darkening the sun for a moment as if the world itself recoiled from Sihir's unleashed might.
When the blinding light faded, silence fell.
But there—still bound to the steel-and-serpent crucifix—stood Astoroth. His colossal frame was ruined: his head and most of his chest were gone, replaced by jagged, smoking remnants. His hands twitched in lifeless defiance, but his body remained pinned in place, defeated at last.
The Demon of Wrath, the Conqueror of the World, was no more.
To be continued...