The crowd at Estrellia's West Bank marketplace had not dispersed. Whispers and rumors clung to the air like smoke, circling around the two figures standing at its center.
Azeron and Dr. Avenza.A god who demanded obedience.A man who refused to kneel.
Liona stood rigid at Azeron's side, her blade ready. Yet even she felt the strange weight in the air. This was no ordinary clash—it was history itself bending.
Dr. Avenza (calmly):"The people here are not fools, Azeron. They have heard of you. They have heard of the palace that bowed, the court that broke. But tell me… what do you offer them but fear?"
Azeron (voice low, cold):"Fear is the purest truth of existence. Fear commands obedience. And obedience is order. Order creates dominion. With dominion, the world moves as I decree."
The scholar shook his head, his staff glowing faintly in his hand.
Dr. Avenza:"You confuse dominion with power. True power does not need chains. It does not force men to crawl. It inspires them to rise. That is something you will never understand."
The crowd stirred—some nodding at Avenza's words, others shrinking back in terror of Azeron.
Azeron (stepping forward, shadows curling at his feet):"You speak as though men can rise without guidance. Yet I have seen them in their palaces—liars drowning in greed. I have seen them in their courts—rats feasting on corruption. If they rise without chains, they fall into ruin. And so… I am the chain."
Dr. Avenza (raising his staff):"No. You are the prison."
The air cracked like thunder as Azeron's shadow lashed outward, curling around Avenza like a serpent. Yet the doctor's staff flared with white runes, pushing the darkness back. Sparks of light and shadow danced, clashing in mid-air.
Gasps erupted from the crowd. Some dropped to their knees, whispering prayers to Azeron. Others pressed closer to Avenza, emboldened by his defiance.
Liona (furious, shouting):"How dare you resist him! This is Azeron—the one who shattered kings!"
Dr. Avenza (without looking at her):"And kings are mortal. Just as he is."
Azeron's blurred face tilted, as though smiling.
Azeron (voice deep, resonant):"You call me mortal. Then prove it. Break me… if you can."
Avenza's eyes narrowed. His staff slammed against the ground, light bursting outward. Azeron's shadows rose higher, curling like a storm.
The marketplace became their arena.The people became their witnesses.
And for the first time, Azeron did not simply command.He was challenged.