Jareth groaned, his vision blurred from the sudden impact. The force of Nerina's opening attack had sent him sprawling across the damp stone floor. He gasped for air, pain lancing through his ribs as he struggled to regain his bearings. The sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the chamber—swift, relentless.
Before he could even sit up, she was already upon him.
A spear of water shot toward his chest. With pure reflex, Jareth twisted his body, barely avoiding a fatal strike. The spear shattered against the ground, sending droplets slicing through the air like knives. Ignoring the pain, Jareth pushed off the floor, flipping backward to create distance.
But Nerina was faster.
She lunged forward, her sapphire-blue eyes burning with vengeance. Her silver hair trailed behind her like the tide before a storm. She struck again and again, her spear a blur of motion, aiming to pierce, slice, and break him apart.
Jareth's Godsword clashed against her weapon in a shower of sparks and water droplets. He dodged, parried, countered—his body moving on instinct. But fatigue clawed at his muscles. His previous battles had drained him more than he wanted to admit. He was struggling to keep up.
"Nerina, listen to me!" he shouted, his voice hoarse as he deflected a sweeping strike. "Your sister—"
"DON'T YOU DARE SPEAK HER NAME!" Nerina roared, spinning her spear in a powerful arc. The tip grazed his shoulder, pain flaring as blood spattered onto the floor.
Jareth gritted his teeth. "Lyra is alive—"
"LIES!" Her power surged. Water exploded around them, rising into tendrils that lashed out, forcing Jareth to evade. "I saw everything in the Vision Crystal! I watched her die for me!"
She thrust her spear forward, an eruption of pressurized water detonating on impact. Jareth barely managed to redirect the blast with a desperate slash of his Godsword, but the force sent him skidding across the floor.
Bahamut's voice rumbled within him.
"Jareth, she won't listen. And I can't reach Undine either… It seems the Water Goddess has chosen to ignore my words as well."
Jareth's fists tightened around his sword. He wanted to avoid hurting her, but she wasn't giving him a choice. Every attempt to reason with her only made her strikes fiercer. She was lost in her rage—her grief fueling an onslaught that was growing harder to endure.
Bahamut's voice came again, more urgent this time.
"Stop holding back. We need to make her unable to fight."
Jareth exhaled sharply, his body aching. He hated it, but Bahamut was right. If he didn't end this soon, he wouldn't survive.
Fire and water surged between them, their clashing elements generating thick steam that began to fill the chamber. Visibility dropped as the mist swirled around them, obscuring their movements. Their battle was now reduced to raw instinct.
The sound of steel cutting air. The hiss of evaporating water. Their breathing—ragged, desperate.
Jareth's focus sharpened. If words wouldn't reach her, he'd have to break through another way.
Nerina's voice cut through the mist. "You murdered my sister, and now you mock me with your lies!"
Something inside Jareth snapped.
His stance shifted, his grip tightening. "You're not the only one who's lost someone," he growled, his eyes burning with newfound fury. "But if you think I'd lie about Lyra—then I'll MAKE you listen!"
He launched forward, faster than before. His attacks grew sharper, heavier, relentless. Their weapons clashed again and again, neither backing down. Nerina countered with deadly precision, her spear weaving between his strikes, her water magic carving through the mist.
A sudden opening—she feinted left, then drove her spear toward his heart.
Jareth barely twisted in time, his blade catching the spear's shaft, deflecting it inches from his chest. The sheer force of the impact sent tremors through his arms.
He couldn't keep this up. He had to end it—now.
Bahamut's voice roared within him.
"There is one technique. But it will drain you."
Jareth didn't hesitate. "Show me."
A surge of energy flooded his veins. His eyes ignited with lightning-like brilliance, his body vibrating with raw mana. His movements became a blur—faster than thought, faster than sight.
Nerina barely had time to react before Jareth was behind her.
A final strike.
With the last of his strength, Jareth brought the hilt of his sword down on the back of her neck. A precise, calculated blow. Not to kill—but to incapacitate.
Nerina's body tensed, her spear slipping from her grip. Her knees buckled. She collapsed onto the cold stone floor.
Jareth followed suit, falling onto his back, utterly drained. His vision swam, breath shallow. The steam still hung thick around them, swirling like ghosts of their battle.
For a long moment, there was only silence.
Then, a weak voice.
"…Is my sister alive?"
Jareth turned his head slightly. Nerina lay beside him, her silver hair splayed out, her body unmoving except for the slow rise and fall of her chest. Their heads rested side by side, facing opposite directions, their legs pointing away from each other.
Jareth closed his eyes, exhaling softly.
"…Yes."