The battlefield fell silent, as though the Black Sun itself held its breath. Shadow-knights and collapsing citadels faded into the periphery, their chaos paling against the presence now stepping forward.
The Echo-Lord loomed above them, armored in voidsteel, his body streaked with molten cracks of starfire. His crown of shattered suns burned as though each fragment was a scar left on creation. He towered like a god—yet his eyes, twin abysses, locked onto two mortals.
Kaelen stepped forward, blade igniting, every muscle trembling with the weight of the moment. He wasn't fighting an army now. He wasn't buying time. This was a duel that would either shatter him… or change everything.
"Kaelen—" Lyra began.
He shook his head, never taking his eyes off the Echo-Lord. "This is mine."
The Echo-Lord drew his weapon: a colossal blade of shadowfire, broad as a starship wing. He raised it high, and the Black Sun's light bent toward him, feeding the weapon.
Kaelen moved first. He sprinted across the glass plain, his phaseblade a comet-trail of light. He struck, aiming for the cracks in the giant's armor. The Echo-Lord met the blow with a single swing, the collision igniting a shockwave that hurled Lyra, Rhyss, and Ceyra backward.
Kaelen skidded, boots carving molten streaks in the ground. His arm screamed from the force, but he steadied himself.
The Echo-Lord's voice was low, resonant.
"You fight with rage. But rage burns. I do not burn."
Kaelen launched himself again, his movements sharp, relentless. He feinted low, then leapt high, slashing at the Echo-Lord's helm. Sparks exploded. The giant staggered—but only for an instant. With blinding speed, the Echo-Lord countered, backhanding Kaelen across the battlefield.
He crashed into the ground, coughing blood, his blade flickering.
"Kaelen!" Lyra screamed, running toward him.
But Kaelen forced himself up, spitting blood into the void. "Stay back, Lyra. If he wants me, he'll have to bleed for it."
He charged again, and this time, his strikes carried not just fury but precision. Every cut was a question, every parry a challenge. Slowly, impossibly, he began forcing the Echo-Lord back.
For the first time, the giant faltered.
And the Black Sun shuddered.
Lyra gasped, realization dawning. The duel wasn't just combat—it was rewriting the balance of power inside the Sun itself. Every strike Kaelen landed pulled at the fabric of eternity.
But the Echo-Lord was far from beaten. He roared, summoning shadowfire into a storm that blotted out even Lyra's light.
And as the storm closed in, Kaelen whispered to himself—half promise, half prayer:
"I will not kneel."
Then he leapt back into the fire.