The war raged on.
I stood at the balcony of Princess Vaeloria's stronghold tower in Dravenguard, the wind whispering through my hair as the cries of battle echoed from the far edges of the realm. The sky was split with fire and shadow, and though I was far from the frontlines, my heart beat with the tremors of war.
"Come," the princess called, her tone curt and amused, "Let's see if your precious prince will still live."
Mirelleth held on to my chest and followed, it ached more than worry.
But far to the east, high upon the peak overlooking the endless, bleeding battlefield of Artherion, the Knight stood with Lucien. Behind them, the arch-seraphim burned with celestial radiance, unmoved, vigilant. The skies above teemed with wyverns, phoenixes, shadow dragons, and winged beasts of forgotten realms, their aerial conflict a storm of flame and fang.
The seas churned beneath, where leviathans battled krakens, and merfolk clashed with undead sea kings. The caves spat out chimeras and stone-blooded monstrosities, while the fields below drowned in the blood of thousands. Artherion and Dravenguard had unleashed all their fury. And now, the true descent began.
The king of Artherion still sat on the throne, and at a single word from Elyrion,"Go", Lucien stepped over the edge of the peak, and the Knight followed.
The Knight landed on scorched soil, and silence followed him. It was as if time itself hesitated.
And then, from a shadow-stitched rift, Saevan stepped forth.
Two figures stood, unmoving. Unyielding.
On one end stood The Knight, his silver armor polished and gleaming, gold and rare stones. His blade, long and unwavering, was held low in one hand, its hilt untouched by war, its edge still perfect. His eyes, like winter frost, were locked forward with a soft glow under his helmet.
On the other end loomed Saevan.
A darkness in the shape of a man.
His body pulsed with dark energy and purple hues, as if the world's darkness has taken form as a man. In his hands he held dark sleek obsidian daggers. Menacing and sinister, it had curves and serrations on either side.It shimmered and glowed giving off a dark aura and tendrils and also exposing runic inscriptions. It exuded intimidating energy and had a presence of it's own.
Saevan's voice whispered in the broken silence, calm and full of compulsion.
"You came alone, knight. Brave… or foolish?"
The Knight did not answer.
He simply lifted his blade to the sky.
And stepped forward.
The ground vanished.
Saevan lunged first, a blur of muscle and hate. His daggers crashed toward the Knight like a meteor, carving through the air with such force that the sky itself split. But The Knight sidestepped at the last second, his cape whipping behind him. In one fluid motion, he brought his blade across Saevan's ribs, drawing blood that hissed and burned the air.
Saevan laughed.
"Good. Make me feel something."
He retaliated with a roar, swinging both arms in a feral arc. The Knight raised his blade just in time, steel clanging against steel, the impact creating a shockwave that blasted the debris into the distance.
Then they moved again.
Strike after strike.
Blow for blow.
Each one a crescendo of war.
Saevan's power was overwhelming. Every movement warped the world around him, craters bloomed beneath his feet, trees blackened, wind screamed. But The Knight was a storm of control. Where Saevan was fury, the Knight was form. He flowed like water, struck like lightning. Every parry was perfect. Every step precise.
"Why do you fight?" Saevan snarled, daggers clashing against steel. "You cannot win. I am evolution. I am truth. I am the end."
The Knight's voice remained quiet.
Saevan lunged again, but this time the Knight did not evade. He met the monster head-on.
Steel met steel.
Blade met datkness.
And the world trembled.
Saevan surged with black lightning, his body transforming mid-fight, daggers intensified, mouth stretching into a jagged grin, eyes now burning pits. He attempted to grab the Knight by the throat and the knight held his hand, then hurled him into the sky like a broken star.
Saevantwisted mid-air.
He plunged down like a comet, his blade engulfed in shadow and electric pulses. The knight raised his sword to block, the strike split the land in two. A golden shockwave surged in all directions, flattening mountains, parting clouds, and casting long shadows across the battlefield.
For a moment, there was silence.
Then Saevan emerged from the dust, wounded. Breathing hard. Smiling.
"Yes... you're worthy."
His body began to mutate, growing horns, wings of black crystal unfurling behind him. The final form.
A final move.
"Let's end this."
And then, the last movement began.
Their battle was no longer grounded.
They vanished, reappeared, struck, vanished again.
Clashing in mid-air.
On the cliffs.
In the shattered sky.
The Knight swing effortlessly.
But Saevan refused to fall.
He absorbed, adapted, responded with fury.
Abyssal Howl.
Chaos Devour.
Apex Eclipse.
They clashed high above the world, two gods in human skin, silhouetted against the burning sky.
And then…
The knight pierced through Saevan's side.
Blood fell like stars
Saevan fell from the sky, dropped to one knee.
The knight approached, long sword ready for the final blow.
"It was never in your power to fight me", he said so cold and calmly. This traumatized Saevan to think that the knight was using not even an ounce of the strength he has to fight.
His blade lit up, not with fire, but divinity .The power of a thousand fallen worlds burned within it now. Every reality. Every dimension. Every realm.
And with his last move…
"Radiant Art—Final Judgement."
The world area in light.
Saevan screamed. The light pierced through him, cracking his monstrous form apart.
The shadows screamed as they died.
And then…
Silence.
The light faded.
Smoke drifted over a shattered battlefield. Broken stones, ruined cliffs. In the center…
The Knight stood.
Saevan knelt
Barely.
His blade embedded in the ground. Blood running from his cloak. His breath... shallow.
He actually was gone. Not even dust remained.
And so, The Saevan, wounded, broken, looked to the sky.
The clouds had cleared.
The ground yet still trembled more violently. Prince Alaric and King Zeburel Ashkeroth stood forth against Prince Lucien...