The silence shattered.
Arcturus's hand swept outward, and chains of searing flame erupted from the dais, streaking across the chamber toward Kaelen. They hissed and shrieked as they split the marble floor, burning the very air.
Kaelen raised his palm. The black fire coiled into shape, a spiral of jagged glyphs that bent the flames back, twisting them into a vortex of smoldering ash.
The court exploded into chaos. Nobles screamed and stumbled from their seats; guards surged forward with steel flashing. The Sovereign's throne pulsed with crimson wards, the walls humming as if the palace itself was bracing for war.
"You've defied me for the last time, ghost!" Arcturus roared, his crown blazing with runes. "I am Sovereign of the Ashen Realms—your death will be my decree!"
Kaelen's reply was a whisper, carried like thunder.
"Then decree your end."
He struck first. A torrent of shadowed fire lanced across the chamber, swallowing half the Sovereign's banners in oily flame. Spears of black light clawed upward like talons, rending the golden ceiling.
Arcturus countered with a gesture, conjuring a blazing greatsword of pure Sovereign aura. He swung, and the shockwave blasted the black fire apart, the impact rattling chandeliers from their chains. Sparks cascaded like stars dying midair.
The Sovereign Guard charged. Dozens of them—helms gleaming, blades aflame—closed on Kaelen. He moved through them like a storm. Sigils burst from his hands, chains of void snapping necks, blades of obsidian cutting through steel as if it were parchment. His violet eyes glowed with merciless certainty.
Still, the Sovereign pressed forward, every strike resounding like thunderclaps, every clash shaking the very foundation of the chamber. Their duel eclipsed everything—two forces ancient and unyielding, colliding in the seat of power itself.
"Heretic!" Arcturus bellowed, swinging his greatsword down in a blow that split the marble dais in two.
"False king!" Kaelen roared back, hurling black lightning that coiled like serpents around the Sovereign's wards, cracking them one by one.
The nobles cowered at the edges of the chamber, many too terrified to flee. Whispers turned into prayers. Others could not look away, knowing history itself was unfolding before their eyes.
At last, as flame and shadow met in the center of the court, the clash threw them apart—Arcturus bleeding from his arm, Kaelen's chest torn with a searing brand. Both still stood. Both still burned.
And the Court of Sovereigns trembled on the edge of ruin.