EXT. BROKEN PASS – HELL (Continuing)
The air trembled as Arven and Grace stood against Velythar, the Third Sigil Demon. Ash twisted like waves around the battlefield, every breath sharp with dread.
They moved together, faster than before. Blades slicing the air, movements synchronized, their speed breaking the sound barrier with each strike.
Grace: Arven—left!
Arven: Got it!
Their attacks carved through the storm, two shadows dancing in perfect rhythm. But Velythar only laughed. His eyes glowed with unnatural malice.
Velythar: Hahahaha... faster, faster! Run, little mice. Dance for me.
Every strike missed. Every slash cut air. He did not dodge by moving—he shifted their speed itself, his gaze alone warping the flow of motion.
Mocking laughter pierced their ears as if their speed was nothing but a game.
Velythar: Do you think speed is salvation? Pathetic. My song bends it. My gaze breaks it.
Arven gritted his teeth, fury rising. He lunged, no longer chasing speed but anchoring himself in raw strength. Their blades clashed—steel against claw, sparks erupting.
The ground cracked beneath Arven's feet. He forced Velythar back, muscle against monstrosity. For a heartbeat, he held his own.
Grace (thinking): If speed means nothing... then I'll be the blade that bends.
Grace flowed around the battlefield like water, her movements no longer about speed, but flexibility—dodging, twisting, evading every strike that sought to kill her.
But then Velythar vanished.
He reappeared before them in a blur, voice low, mocking.
Velythar: 80%!
A blast erupted. A symphony of destruction, sound and light crashing together in a blinding outburst. The ground shattered, the sky split with waves of force. Arven and Grace were hurled across the battlefield, crashing into stone, ears ringing, energy drained.
They could barely move. Their bodies screamed, their ears deaf to everything but the ringing aftermath. The world spun as the Deathsong's laughter shook their bones.
Velythar: Broken toys. Weak, trembling, useless.
But before the final blow could fall—a shadow cut through the light.
Steel sang. A flash severed through the storm. A hand, monstrous and clawed, fell to the ground, torn from Velythar's arm.
Riku: Step aside. I'll give you time.
Riku stood, his blade dripping with the black ichor of the Sigil. His eyes burned with unyielding resolve.
Arven (gasping): Riku... If we kill him... Gabriel said one of the first three Sigils controls the domain. If he dies—we might escape!
Riku's grip tightened. His blade shimmered in the storm.
Riku: Then I'll carve our way out.
He surged forward. Blade and claw clashed, shockwaves tearing through the broken pass. Each strike rang like thunder, steel against the laughter of death.
Arven and Grace could only watch, broken bodies trembling as the two forces collided. Their ears bled, their strength stolen by the waves of sound. But their eyes—stayed locked on Riku, hope burning faintly in their hearts.
For a moment, Riku pushed Velythar back. A punch, a slice, a blur of battle that tore through the battlefield.
But then—the demon stopped smiling. Its eyes flared with a deathly glow, its aura freezing the air around them.
Velythar (cold): Don't you dare... one on one me.
The demon's stare locked onto Riku. His body froze, his will crushed beneath the aura of the Sigil.
Riku (straining): Ngh—move, damn it...!
Velythar's claw swept low. Pain exploded through Riku's leg as his foot was struck, forcing him to the ground.
The demon leaned closer, its voice a whisper of finality.
Velythar: Be gone, human.
Its cold stare pierced through him, freezing his spirit, drowning him in terror. The battlefield quaked as the Deathsong raised its arm for the end.
To be continued...