The instant we clashed, everything else fell away.
There was no sky. No sand. No wind screaming through the ruins.
Just the sound of metal on metal—and my heartbeat trying to punch through my ribs.
His axe came down like a hammer from a god, and I barely dodged left, the ground where I'd stood seconds before erupting in a burst of violet energy and flame. The shockwave hit my chest like a wrecking ball, lifting me off my feet and flinging me through a crumbled stone pillar.
My back hit hard. Pain spiderwebbed through my spine. I grit my teeth, rolled, came up coughing, but still standing.
He was already on me.
His axe sang through the air again, an arc of Null trailing it like ghost fire. I parried with Voidscar, but the blow still sent me skidding backward across the gravel, boots digging trenches in the sand.
He wasn't just strong.
He was relentless.
"You move like prey," he snarled, baring rows of serrated teeth. "But you hit like something old. I like that."
He charged again.
I met him.
We collided in the center of the camp like meteors. Voidscar and the Null axe clashed, releasing a pulse of shock energy that split the air. My arms buckled. My knees trembled. Every blow he landed echoed in my bones.
I ducked under a wide swing, rolled behind him, slashed upward—caught his thigh.
He didn't even flinch.
A backfist caught me in the jaw, spinning my vision sideways. My feet left the ground, and before I could recover, he grabbed me by the throat and slammed me into the dirt hard enough to crater it.
"Flesh breaks," he whispered. "Even strong flesh."
I couldn't breathe. The Null in his grip was searing into my skin like acid. My Essence flared in resistance, trying to push him off.
It wasn't working.
Not yet.
I drove my knee into his ribs, over and over. He grunted, but didn't let go. Darkness crept into the edges of my vision.
Then—
"REMEMBER WHO YOU ARE."
Nyxia's voice wasn't a whisper.
It was a scream.
I exploded.
My Essence surged in a flash of white-hot heat. The very ground beneath us cracked. A sonic boom rippled through the ruins. His hand tore from my throat as he stumbled back, arm shaking from the backlash.
I stood up—barely—my breath ragged, blood dripping from my lips.
"You're right," I said, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. "Flesh breaks."
I stepped forward. Slow.
"But soul doesn't."
I charged.
This time, I wasn't dodging. I was matching him.
Strike for strike. Blow for blow.
Our weapons clashed again and again, and sparks lit the air like fireflies. I ducked a spinning slash, buried Voidscar into his side—then had to roll away as he retaliated with a blast of Null energy that left the ground glassy and black.
I was panting hard. Muscles torn. One of my ribs was definitely cracked. My left shoulder barely moved right.
He wasn't unscathed either.
Blood poured down his side. His breathing was harsher now, shoulders heaving with each motion. But his grin never left.
He loved this.
"You know," he rasped, circling me, dragging that axe like it weighed nothing, "they say the Grimson were born for war. That you never break."
I didn't respond. My vision was tunneling. I could feel my Essence flickering inside me, like a dying star refusing to go out.
He spat to the side. "Let's test that."
He lunged again—this time faster than before. A blur of Null and muscle and hate. I barely deflected his strike. The impact still sent Voidscar from my hands, the blade skidding across the sand into the dark.
"Shit—"
His fist slammed into my gut. Another into my ribs. Then a rising knee that caught my chin and lifted me off the ground.
He grabbed me midair and threw me into a broken wall. My body crumpled like a ragdoll.
I hit the ground hard.
I didn't move.
Not at first.
I couldn't.
Pain was everywhere. Bones screaming. Vision doubled. The taste of iron thick on my tongue.
I could hear his footsteps. Slow. Confident.
"Get up," he said. "Come on. You were so full of fight a second ago."
He was right.
I was losing.
Bleeding. Broken.
But something inside me… refused.
I saw her again.
Scarlett. Her hands bound. Her face bruised. Crying—but not for herself.
For the others.
I heard the screams again. Felt the weight of the corpses.
I remembered the tomb. The training. The months of solitude and pain.
I remembered who I was.
And then?
I stood.
Every joint protested. My lungs felt like fire. But I stood tall.
I didn't say anything.
I didn't need to.
Essence poured from me like a dam had broken.
The sand lifted. My eyes glowed white.
Even the air bent around me.
His smile finally dropped.
He rushed me again.
But this time?
I moved like a goddamn storm.
I sidestepped the first swing, grabbed his wrist mid-attack, and broke it backwards. He screamed, staggered—then I buried my fist into his gut so hard he coughed blood. Before he could fall, I kicked his knee out, spun, and backhanded him with a blast of Essence that launched him off his feet.
He hit the ground and rolled.
I didn't let him recover.
I was on him in seconds.
I mounted him, fists raining down like hammers, fueled by every ounce of rage, memory, and purpose in my soul.
He caught one punch, grinned with bloody teeth—and headbutted me.
My nose broke. Pain exploded through my skull. But I didn't stop.
I drove my elbow into his throat. Felt the cartilage give.
He twisted. Threw me off him. We both staggered up.
He tried to run for his axe.
So did I.
But I beat him there.
I slid, grabbed Voidscar in one motion, turned—
—and threw it.
The blade flew through the dark like a streak of silver lightning.
And buried itself in his thigh.
He screamed—fell.
I closed the distance, slow now. Breathing heavy. Bloodied.
"You talk too much," I muttered.
He tried to rise.
I kicked him in the chest. Hard. He collapsed again.
I stood over him, Voidscar in hand once more.
He looked up at me, still defiant, even dying.
"More will come," he hissed. "Stronger than me."
"I hope so."
I raised the blade high.
"Because I'm just getting started."
I brought it down.
Clean.
Final.
The camp went silent.
The wind returned. The world unfroze.
I stood there for a long moment, breathing hard, Voidscar dripping.
Then I fell to one knee.
Not from pain.
Not from exhaustion.
But because it was over.
For now.
I'd won.
But I knew this was just the beginning.