The square shook as the Wyrm's molten tail smashed through the archway, turning ancient stone into ash and flame. Its obsidian crown shimmered with runes that pulsed with dark energy—foul Veil-binding magic rooted in forgotten Sovereign rites.
Civilians fled. Soldiers scattered.
Only Kael stood still.
Ashreaver flared to life in his hand, the crimson glow now laced with embers and heat—Crimson Ascendance had awakened more than just his aura. The blade itself sang in resonance with his soul, its edge hungering for corrupted blood.
"Everyone, fall back," Kael commanded, his voice cutting through the chaos. "This one's mine."
Darric looked like he wanted to argue, but Isryn pulled him back. "This is beyond us now."
Kael stepped forward, eyes burning.
The Wyrm bared its jaws, exhaling a cone of living fire that melted stone and seared air. But Kael vanished—Blinkstep—and reappeared above the creature mid-fall, his blade crashing down like a star from the heavens.
"Blazing Fang – Third Form: Scorchfang Descent!"
The impact rocked the entire plaza. A vertical gash erupted along the Wyrm's shoulder, molten ichor spraying high into the air. The creature roared in agony, thrashing violently as its wing-like limbs unfolded to strike.
But Kael met them, deflecting a claw strike with the flat of his blade before driving his foot into its chest, vaulting backwards, landing lightly on a collapsed fountain.
The Wyrm lunged. Kael responded.
Fourth Form: Ember Bloom.
Ashreaver traced a spiral in the air, igniting dozens of delayed flares mid-air. When the Wyrm crashed through them, they detonated one by one—boom after boom slamming into its armor and setting its wounds alight.
From afar, Lyra watched, awestruck.
"He's changed," she whispered. "He's… becoming something else."
Isryn nodded. "No. He's becoming what the flame remembers. What the Sovereigns feared."
Kael advanced once more, his aura now fully unleashed—a blazing crimson windstorm swirling around him. He dragged Ashreaver behind him, the blade crackling and glowing brighter with each step.
"You were once royalty, weren't you?" Kael murmured to the Wyrm. "Now look at you… a puppet gnawed hollow by the Veil."
The Wyrm reared up to strike.
Kael struck first.
Final Form: Infernal Verdict.
A single slash.
A blinding arc of red light.
Time seemed to halt as the Wyrm's body was bisected cleanly from crown to tail. Its molten heart exploded outward in a cascade of fire, ash, and light.
The plaza fell silent.
Kael stood amidst the cinders, cloak torn, face burned, breathing heavy—but unbroken.
Darric and Lyra rushed forward. Behind them, the brass-armored guards of Cindervault dropped to one knee.
They had witnessed something not seen since the days of the First Sovereign.
A warrior touched by flame and fate.
A Crimson Sovereign, reborn.