Aetherion swung his blade in a sweeping arc, each strike carving trenches into the earth. Kratos dodged and weaved, his movements primal yet precise. Sparks flew as the titanic blade scraped the ground, missing its mark by inches.
"Stand still, worm!" Aetherion snarled, his frustration mounting.
Kratos, unrelenting, closed the distance between them. His fists slammed into Aetherion's armored torso, denting the blackened steel. The Warden staggered but recovered quickly, retaliating with a backhanded swing that sent Kratos skidding across the ground.
Rising to his feet, Kratos wiped the blood from his lip. His fury was palpable, a storm waiting to unleash. He raised his hand, summoning the latent power coursing through this strange land. The earth beneath Aetherion trembled, erupting in jagged spikes of stone that pierced his armor.
Aetherion bellowed in pain, his molten eyes flickering. "Impossible!" he roared, dropping to one knee.
Kratos seized the moment. With a guttural cry, he leapt into the air, bringing both fists down onto Aetherion's helm. The blow cracked the armor, and the Warden crumpled to the ground.
As the dust settled, Kratos stood over the defeated god. "I am no worm," he growled. "I am your end."
From the broken body of Aetherion, a faint light began to rise—an ethereal essence that whispered promises of power.