The once grand courtyard had been reduced to a desolate wasteland, a fitting reflection of the battle that had just unfolded. The earth beneath it cracked and heaved, as if the land itself had been scarred by the immense power unleashed upon it. The remnants of shattered stone and smoldering debris lingered in the air, mixing with the faintest traces of lingering aura, which flickered as if gasping for breath. The weight of the silence hung heavy, suffocating in its intensity.
Ryan and the Crimson Serpent leader lay crumpled on the battlefield, their bodies broken and drenched in sweat and blood. The air, thick with the scent of destruction, felt alive with the remnants of their clash. For a moment, it seemed as if time itself had stilled—no movement, no sound, only the deep, oppressive quiet that followed the fury of their battle.
From his throne, Manav watched, his cold, unblinking gaze fixed on the two combatants. The lines of his face were unreadable, his expression as immutable as the stone that surrounded him. Slowly, he rose to his feet, the weight of his gaze never wavering. With a quiet but deliberate step, he moved toward the chaos before him.
"Ryan," he said, his voice sharp, cutting through the silence like a blade. "Did you come here without a plan?"
Ryan's body twitched, the faintest glimmer of life returning to his exhausted frame. His breath was ragged, his pulse hammering in his ears. He struggled to lift his head, his vision blurred and unfocused, yet through the haze, he saw Manav's piercing gaze upon him. His words hit like a taunt, a challenge in the stillness.
But before Ryan could respond, a low chuckle echoed from the leader's throat. A rasping, guttural sound that sliced through the tension like a knife. His crimson aura flickered and surged, as if refusing to be subdued, and slowly, he forced himself to rise. His eyes glowed with a feral gleam, his bloodied mouth curling into a twisted grin.
"You think this is over?" The leader's voice was dripping with venom, harsh and mocking. "This is only the beginning."
With a grunt, the leader staggered to his feet, the aura around him swirling like a storm of rage. He raised his arms, and with a violent sweep, summoned forth an unspeakable power. The ground trembled beneath him, groaning as if the earth itself feared what was to come.
From the very air around him, the leader drew a twisted, demonic force, summoning a creature born of pure darkness and bloodlust. It rose from the chaos in a blur of crimson and shadow—an enormous beast, towering at least 8 feet tall, its grotesque form covered in jagged, spiny armor. Its red eyes glowed with malevolent fury, its claws gleaming like curved daggers, dripping with anticipation for the slaughter it was about to unleash.
The creature let out a bone-chilling roar, its voice echoing with unearthly rage. The air vibrated with its power, and Ryan instinctively took a step back, his exhaustion beginning to show as the weight of the creature's presence pressed down on him like an unrelenting storm. His aura flickered weakly around him, barely enough to hold back the suffocating pressure emanating from the beast.
"Do you still think you can stop me?" the leader spat, his grin widening into something monstrous. "This is the final act. My power is limitless, and your strength… pitiful."
Ryan steadied himself, his hand trembling as he reached within, gathering the last remnants of his power. A purple glow began to form in his palm, weak at first, but growing steadily stronger as he poured what little energy he had left into the ball of aura. The sphere pulsed with a dark, menacing light, crackling with destructive force. Ryan's breath quickened, but his eyes locked onto the leader's monstrous creation.
With a final, desperate effort, he hurled the energy ball forward, his aim steady but the ball faltering slightly, trailing off course. His heart skipped a beat as the ball flew off target, veering straight toward Manav.
"No…!" Ryan whispered, his voice strained with fear and frustration.
The energy ball soared through the air, glowing like a comet as it streaked across the battleground. And then, it was there—just inches from Manav. The leader's mocking laughter grew louder, as if savoring the inevitable chaos. But Manav's eyes never left the ball. He stood still, unflinching, as if the destruction headed for him held no weight.
As the ball neared, Manav raised a single hand.
The glowing sphere stopped midair, suspended in his grasp as if frozen in time. The energy rippled and pulsed in his palm, illuminating his cold expression in a dim purple hue.
For a long moment, the courtyard was still. The world seemed to hold its breath, waiting.
Then, Manav's gaze shifted toward Ryan, the intensity in his eyes undeniable.
"You can use it," Manav said, his voice carrying the weight of something ancient and unyielding. The words were deliberate, the weight of his power palpable in the silence that followed.
Ryan's heart raced. His energy reserves were all but spent, yet the words reverberated in his mind like a drumbeat. "You can use it." A spark of realization ignited within him—an opportunity, a chance, if only he could seize it.
But before Ryan could respond, the leader's figure shifted once more. His crimson aura surged as his eyes glazed over, flickering with memories that seemed to rise from the depths of his consciousness.
The clash had worn on for what seemed like an eternity, and now, in the aftermath of the devastation, the leader's mind drifted back, just for a fleeting moment, to the shadows of his past.
*Flashes of forgotten pain surged through his mind—blurred images of a time before the endless battles, before the bloodshed. He saw the faces of comrades lost in another life, their eyes full of hope, full of purpose. But those days were long gone. The world had betrayed him, twisted his mind, and now he was a shadow of his former self, fueled only by rage and ambition. He remembered the taste of victory, the sound of the cries of those he had crushed beneath his heel. But with each memory came the bitter realization—he had been shaped by violence, forged by a cruel hand that had left him nothing but a broken monster.*
The brief flashes of memories faded as quickly as they had come, leaving behind only the crimson rage that defined his existence. His eyes snapped back to the present, and the leader bared his teeth, his jaw tightening as he looked upon the five warriors before him.
"Foolish," he spat, his voice dark and venomous. "Do you think you've won? Do you think this pathetic show will break me?"
The beast roared in response, its claws scraping against the ground as it advanced once again, its presence overwhelming.
Ryan, though exhausted, focused his energy, his eyes still fixed on Manav, who had yet to make a move.
Manav's stillness was a paradox. His presence alone seemed to command the battlefield, as though his mere existence held the key to everything that was happening.
"Use it," Manav repeated, his voice soft but final.