The clash between Kael and the obsidian knight shook the very stones of Veyrath Keep.
The moment their blades met, shockwaves rippled out like thunder made flesh. The knight's greatsword was unnaturally heavy, black flame dancing along its edge. Each swing came with impossible weight — and yet Kael matched it, Ashrend gleaming crimson and black, its blade alive with rage and will.
"Ashrend: Crimson Divider!"
Kael struck low then up in a spiraling slash, forcing the knight backward through the marble steps of the sanctum. Sparks burst, stone cracked. But the knight responded in kind.
"Veilbrand: Grief Reborn!"
The blackened sword howled as it cleaved down. The air tore. A wave of voidflame exploded from the blade, lashing out in a wide arc that threatened to devour Kael whole—
But Kael moved.
Not with fear — but fury.
He ducked under the wave, shoulder-rolled through the firestorm, and launched forward with a driving stab that pierced through the knight's shoulder armor.
The blade didn't cut clean.
It sank in — as if the creature's flesh rejected death.
The knight roared in silence, a burst of cursed energy erupting from its core.
Kael was flung back across the chamber, slamming into the cracked wall.
"Kael!" Lyra shouted, dashing forward.
But Kael raised a hand, stopping her.
He stood slowly, blood trickling from his brow, the mark in his chest glowing faintly.
"No. This one's mine."
He stared down the knight, breathing steady now.
"You carry a Veilstone. You were forged for power. But I've bled for mine."
"You are a remnant of a dying age. I am the voice of what comes next."
"Let me show you what a Sovereign looks like."
Ashrend howled in his hand.
Lightning gathered in storming arcs around him. His aura flared — red, black, and gold. The second shard of the Veilstone pulsed within his blade, answering the third's challenge.
The battle resumed — faster, sharper, more brutal.
Kael fought with a clarity forged from pain. He parried the knight's cursed cleaves, danced around wide arcing strikes, and punished every slow movement with precise fury.
"Ashrend: Sovereign Requiem!"
A tri-cut move — left, center, over the top.
The third strike shattered the knight's helmet.
A ghostly skull stared back, wreathed in golden flame.
It hissed — not in pain, but recognition.
"Rivenhart."
Kael didn't hesitate.
"You're damn right."
He drove his blade into the knight's chest — through bone, through flame, through whatever curse animated it.
"Ashrend: Judgement Break."
The blade erupted.
Red lightning. Black flames.
And silence.
The knight crumbled like ash in the wind.
Only the black crown remained — and embedded in it, the third Veilstone Fragment, pulsing with quiet defiance.
Kael knelt, breathing hard.
He picked up the fragment.
And as his fingers closed around it, Ashrend shimmered. A hum rose from the blade — deeper, fuller.
The third shard had awakened.
Outside the tower…
The Black Host fell silent.
The deathless froze in place — then crumbled as if their will had been tied to the knight's own. A storm of bone and rusted armor blanketed the courtyard.
The battle… was over.
The Stormbreakers stood among the ruins, bloodied but victorious.
Lyra limped toward the tower, grinning.
"You're getting dramatic with your finishes, Kael."
"You sound like you're complaining," he replied.
"Not if it keeps working."
Garros laughed from a broken wall. "That's three Veilstones. How many are left?"
Kael looked toward the sky, where thunder still loomed in the clouds.
"Four more."
"And they won't give themselves up."
Far to the north…
In the shadowed halls of a forgotten temple, a figure robed in sapphire watched a crimson flame flicker within a pool of water.
"He's moving faster than expected," the figure whispered.
Another voice answered from the dark.
"Let him come. We've waited long enough."