EXT. BROKEN PASS – HELL (Nightfall)
The ash storm thickened as blades clashed. Sparks burst into the air—each strike between Arven and Grace faster, sharper, heavier.
Their movements blurred, steel ringing like thunder. Each strike was not just a test of strength, but of grief, betrayal, and mistrust.
Grace: You were supposed to be stronger, Arven! If May's death didn't break you, why do you still hesitate?!
Arven: Don't you dare use her name against me! You—of all people—you betrayed us!
Their blades locked, faces inches apart, rage burning in their eyes.
Arven pulled back, raising his weapon for a killing strike—then stopped. His chest heaved. His heartbeat roared in his ears.
Something was wrong.
From above, faint and twisted—came laughter.
Arven's eyes widened. Without thinking, he sprinted faster than before, blade cutting into the pillar above them.
Stone cracked. Ash rained down.
Through the fracture—an eye peered back at him. A terrifying, unblinking eye.
The pillar exploded, blasting Arven back. He crashed against the ground, sliding, but forced himself up on shaking legs.
Grace froze. Arven froze. Both stared at the ceiling as the sound of movement came—faster than thought, faster than breath.
Before either could react, something landed between them.
A demon.
It moved in a blur. Grace's eyes widened as a kick struck her chest, sending her flying.
Arven: Grace!
Arven's body reacted before his fear could. He surged forward, blade raised, catching the next strike. The ground beneath his feet shattered, dust erupting in shockwaves.
Ash cleared—and the demon stood revealed.
Tall, slender, but its body radiated death. A monstrous grin stretched across its face, its voice a sickly melody of mockery.
Arven (shaking): No... it can't be...
Velythar—The Deathsong the 3rd out of the 10th Sigil Demons!
One of the three that no human had ever slain since the beginning of mankind.
Arven's grip faltered. His whole body trembled. Fear swallowed his rage. He couldn't move.
The demon tilted its head, grin widening.
Velythar: Heh... I smell it. Fear.
It lunged. Its fist swung for Arven—unstoppable.
Arven froze, his body betraying him.
At the last instant, Grace struck. A fierce kick to Arven's side sent him tumbling out of the attack's path. Both dodged as the ground cratered where they once stood.
Grace (spitting blood): Gabriel, you son of a bitch... you never said where the Sigil would appear.
Arven looked at her, shaken. For the first time, he saw her not as an enemy—but as an ally.
Grace: Arven. Stop doubting. Stop fearing. You and I—we're not enemies. We're all that's left between mankind and extinction. Now fight with me!
Her words lit something in him. Arven clenched his teeth, nodded, and lifted his blade. His legs steadied.
Arven: ...Then let's end this together.
He grabbed Grace by the arm and hurled her forward. Grace twisted midair, using the momentum to strike, blade slashing down in a fierce arc.
But Velythar's body flickered like a shadow. The attack missed.
The Sigil laughed, the sound cutting like razors.
Velythar: Faster. Stronger. Or you'll die screaming like the rest.
The ash storm surged as his mocking laughter filled the battlefield.
To be continued...