Kaemor stepped forward, stopping just far enough from the man who once stood beside him in quiet agreement—Blythe. The betrayal was clear, and Kaemor's tone held the weight of disappointment more than anger.
"I should've known better than to put faith in your words. You led me straight to her, all calm and calculated like you always are. But turns out, even you couldn't stomach seeing your sister fall apart."
Blythe remained still, the expressionless mask hiding the guilt simmering beneath. He had played a dangerous game, and he knew it. His silence said plenty, but his voice followed shortly after.
"I won't deny it. I made the wrong call for the right reasons. I truly believed Chiaki had what it took to face you. I thought she could pull off the impossible… But maybe I was wrong."
He paused, then took a slow step forward, fists clenched at his sides.
"But that doesn't mean I'm going to let you drag her into whatever darkness Rhaziel's planning. She's my sister. Our paths may differ, but my blood still runs through hers. And I won't let her end here."
Kaemor widened his stance, one foot anchoring firmly into the floor as he extended his arm to the side. The cords around him stirred like serpents sensing prey, twisting through the air with an eerie elegance—each one perfectly controlled, as if responding to his thoughts alone.
His tone was calm, but there was venom behind every word.
"I'll give you one chance, Blythe. One condition. If you don't want things to turn ugly between us... then take down the white-haired one. Do that, and I'll let your betrayal slide. No hard feelings. We pretend none of this ever happened."
The cords flared slightly as Kaemor's gaze narrowed.
"So go ahead. Make your choice. But choose wisely—because once it's made, there's no turning back. Pick wrong, and you won't just face consequences… you'll face your end."
Blythe didn't flinch. He stood firm, posture sharp and composed, like a statue carved from quiet defiance. With a single motion, he slid his hand in front of his chest, a deliberate gesture of finality.
"My decision's already made," he stated, voice steady as stone. "There's no need for alternatives. I'm walking out of here with my sister—and the man you want gone. You'll find my strength quite useful in this... little confrontation."
Kaemor's gaze sharpened behind the lenses of his mask, zeroing in on the man he once considered an ally—maybe even a friend. And yet, Kaemor had never truly understood Blythe. He never knew how he'd earned his place in Rhaziel's inner circle. Never knew what darkness Blythe had buried beneath that cold mask.
"So that's it then," Kaemor said, his voice deepening with restrained fury. "You've chosen your side."
His frame stiffened, breath growing heavy and rhythmic like a predator ready to pounce. "Fine. Then let's turn this into the meeting you asked for."
Without warning, thick violet gas erupted from his sleeves, swirling and roaring like a furnace unleashed. It wasn't fire, but it moved like it—violent and scorching, fanning out behind him like wings carved from smoke and wrath.
"I'll tear you apart, Blythe!" he roared.
No more words. Just fury, betrayal—and war.
Blythe held his ground, his focus locked onto the opponent before him. He said nothing, but his eyes spoke volumes—of betrayal, disappointment, and a quiet fury buried deep beneath his calm. Kaemor wasn't the man he remembered. Once a relaxed powerhouse with terrifying control over his abilities, Kaemor now radiated something entirely different. No restraint. No ease. Just raw, boiling aggression—like a beast unleashed from its cage, feeding off his own rage to amplify his strength.
Meanwhile, Rhaziel turned his attention to the other threat standing before him—Temoshí. He could already tell… this one wasn't ordinary. His aura burned hotter than most, and something in his stance carried the weight of experience. Rhaziel didn't flinch, but he acknowledged internally: this fight would be different.
Then came the warning.
"Rhaziel…" Temoshí's tone dropped, serious and cold. His fists clenched as he bent into a ready stance, the flames around his body flickering faster like they were impatient. "I'll give you one last chance…
Back. Off."
But there was no time left for threats. No more breath to waste on speeches.
With a burst of pure, searing blue energy, Temoshí vanished from sight—rocketing forward like a launched meteor. His flames trailed behind him in streaks, leaving behind echoes of heat and light as he cut through the air like a living bolt of lightning.
In a blur, he closed the distance—his leg already stretching into a comet-like arc, the same devastating kick he'd used in his entrance. But this time, Rhaziel didn't underestimate him. With calm precision, Rhaziel brought his arms up in a tight guard just as the impact landed.
And then—
Boom.
A thunderous trio of shockwaves exploded outward, rippling through the chamber like the toll of a god's bell. The ground cracked beneath them. Air warped. Walls shuddered from the force.
And yet… Rhaziel didn't budge.
Temoshí's eyes widened mid-air.
He hit him—clean, full-force—and Rhaziel stood still.
Out of nowhere, a white vacuum-like burst of energy erupted from behind Rhaziel's crossed arms—surrounded by that ominous red-framed aura. It detonated like a thunderclap, releasing a rupture of force so dense, so oppressive, it slammed into Temoshí like a tidal wave of pressure. The sheer gravity of it warped the air and crushed the momentum from his strike, forcing him to drop to the ground as if the very laws of physics had betrayed him.
The weight didn't fade. The pressure continued to flood the room, thick and suffocating. And in the very next breath, Rhaziel drew his knee back—slow, deliberate—and then launched it forward like a jet-fueled spear. The wind behind the blow howled, sharp and violent, as if the air itself had turned solid with fury. It was coming fast—too fast—and aimed right for Temoshí's head.
But just before impact, his body ignited. In an instant, Temoshí dissolved into a form of pure flame—his figure melting into a blaze of orange and blue fire. Rhaziel's knee passed through the inferno harmlessly… but the force behind it did not.
The pressure of that failed strike still surged upward, crashing into the ceiling above them and obliterating it with a deafening crack. Shattered debris and dust rained down as the roof split open like fragile glass under a hammer.
Temoshí reappeared a moment later, bursting out from the flames in a backward dive—his expression sharp, his eyes wide with a mix of surprise and awe. While still in midair, azure flames danced at his heels like loyal spirits, guiding his motion. He landed in a low slide, skidding across the floor until his boots dug in and stopped him.
He straightened and locked eyes with Rhaziel—who calmly lowered his leg back to the ground, as if the whole thing was just part of a routine.
"He kicked the wind like it owed him money... What kind of anatomy does this dude even have? I felt that in my spine... This guy's on another level."
To be continued...