The barren valley trembled beneath the weight of ancient bloodlines and unburied grief. Winds screamed through the hollow mountain passes like mourning spirits, dragging ash and pale dust across the cracked earth in violent spirals. Above the ruined terrain stood Ember, the colossal ivory wyvern, his enormous wings partially unfurled as though the beast itself anticipated catastrophe. Beside him perched the two raven-like monsters, August and Hurricane, their monstrous forms unusually silent now, both creatures observing the battlefield with an eerie, almost human anticipation.
At the center of it all stood the last two surviving heirs of the Pendragon dynasty.
Callum and Artoria faced one another in silence, blades drawn, golden hair swaying within the cold wasteland winds. The resemblance between them was undeniable despite the years and suffering that separated them. Their posture, their eyes, even the way they carried their swords carried the unmistakable mark of the same bloodline. Yet the similarities ended there.
One stood for vengeance.
The other stood for truth.
And neither intended to yield.
For several long moments, neither moved. The valley itself seemed to hold its breath alongside them. Then, in less than an instant, the silence shattered.
The earth exploded beneath their feet.
Both knights vanished forward with terrifying speed, their bodies tearing through the air like bolts of light. A deafening shockwave rippled across the valley as steel collided against steel for the first time, sparks erupting between them like miniature stars.
Callum narrowed his eyes, gripping his blade with both hands as he shifted into a side stance. Without hesitation he unleashed a massive horizontal slash aimed directly for Artoria's neck, the force behind it strong enough to split stone. The blade screamed through the air.
Artoria ducked beneath it at the last possible second.
Her own sword remained low by her side as she slid forward, perfectly controlled despite the overwhelming momentum. In one fluid motion she thrust upward toward Callum's exposed ribs, aiming to pierce directly through his side.
Callum twisted violently.
The blade missed him by mere centimeters.
Using the momentum of his dodge, he rotated his grip and brought his weapon crashing downward with monstrous force, aiming to cleave both Artoria and the earth beneath her apart in a single strike.
Artoria's eyes widened faintly.
She sidestepped instantly.
The sword slammed into the ground with an explosive boom, splitting the earth open and sending fractures racing across the valley floor. Dust erupted upward in violent clouds.
Artoria planted her feet firmly and drew her blade high beside her body, preparing to counterattack while Callum's weapon remained buried in the stone.
But before she could move,
Callum released his sword entirely.
Artoria's eyes widened.
"...How noble," Callum muttered coldly.
In the next instant he surged forward barehanded.
One arm shot outward, locking both of Artoria's sword arms in place before she could react. Then his other fist drove directly into her face with enough force to crack the air itself.
A violent impact echoed throughout the valley.
Blood burst from Artoria's nose as her body recoiled backward, skidding several meters across the stone before she regained her footing. She blinked rapidly, breathing unevenly as crimson dripped between her fingers.
Slowly, she raised a hand and stared at the blood staining it.
Then she looked back at him.
Disappointment flickered across her expression.
"This..." she said quietly, "is not how a knight should fight."
Her voice hardened.
"It is not how a Pendragon should fight. Have you truly abandoned everything our family once stood for, junior?"
Callum stared at her for a long moment before wrenching his sword free from the ground with one hand.
"Not how a Pendragon should fight?" he repeated slowly.
A bitter laugh escaped him.
"Funny. It's almost like there was nobody left to teach me those ways."
Artoria narrowed her eyes sharply.
"You make light of our dead family now?" she asked coldly. "How far you've fallen."
Her stance widened again, sword raised with practiced perfection.
"I will defeat you," she declared, "and afterward I will teach you what it means to be a true Pendragon."
Something shifted in Callum's eyes then.
"You?" he asked quietly. "Beat me?"
He tilted his head slightly.
"Elder... I killed you once already."
The wind around them seemed to freeze.
"What makes you believe I cannot do it again?"
Artoria's expression darkened instantly.
"Then we shall see."
She exploded forward again, moving so quickly her body became little more than a blur. Even stripped of the overwhelming powers she once wielded, her physical strength remained monstrous. Every movement carried centuries of battle experience refined into instinct.
Yet this time Callum did not move.
He simply watched her approach.
Closer and closer
His jaw tightened so hard it looked as though he might shatter his own teeth.
Artoria swung first.
Her blade carved through the air in a perfect diagonal strike aimed to sever him from shoulder to hip.
And Callum caught it.
With his bare arm.
Artoria's eyes widened in genuine shock as steel bit into flesh yet failed to continue deeper. Blood spilled across Callum's arm, but he ignored it entirely.
At the same instant, his own sword rose high overhead.
Then descended.
Artoria loosened her grip instantly and stepped backward just as Callum's blade crashed downward past her face, splitting the air with enough force to create a violent gust that tore through her hair and clothes.
But before she could recover,
Callum grabbed her sword arm.
He yanked her violently toward him.
Their faces came within inches of one another.
Artoria saw it then.
Callum released her arm and drove a punch toward her face. Artoria barely managed to tilt her head aside in time, his fist grazing past her cheek with enough force to tear the air apart.
She hissed sharply before retaliating instantly, driving her boot directly into Callum's abdomen.
The impact forced him backward several steps.
"Enough!" Artoria shouted furiously.
"A Pendragon must never abandon their blade! Our swords are our souls! They exist to protect our people!"
Callum straightened slowly, his gaze colder than before.
"Those ideals no longer exist."
He raised his blade once more.
"I will protect my people," he said quietly, "but you have no right to tell me how."
Artoria recoiled slightly.
Shock flickered across her face.
For a brief moment, uncertainty entered her eyes.
Then both charged again.
Their blades collided over and over in violent bursts of sparks and steel. Shockwaves erupted with every strike, the valley trembling beneath their battle. Neither yielded ground willingly. Every movement was answered by another. Every strike met resistance.
Callum fought with brutal efficiency.
Artoria fought with flawless discipline.
Two philosophies clashing through steel.
Then,
Artoria misstepped.
Her heel caught uneven stone.
Only slightly.
But enough.
Callum's eyes narrowed instantly.
He abandoned his sword entirely and lunged forward, fist raised high with enough force to shatter bone and consciousness alike. The attack descended toward her face,
Yet Artoria did not panic.
She looked calm.
Too calm.
Callum realized it a fraction too late.
His eyes widened.
Then his body stopped.
Completely.
The world froze around him.
No,
Not the world.
Him.
Space itself constricted around his body while time locked his movements in place. His fist remained suspended mere inches from Artoria's face, unable to move even slightly.
Artoria slowly rose to her feet.
The wind carried her hair gently as she looked at him with weary disappointment.
Natural plane abilities could not properly function within this death zone. The connection to the planes here was nearly nonexistent.
But Artoria no longer relied solely upon a plane.
She was the vessel of a living relic.
And even diminished, that power still surpassed ordinary logic.
She stepped around him quietly.
"I suppose I should not be too harsh on you, junior," she said softly. "But I do hope one day you understand."
Ember looked down upon the scene.
And laughed.
A deep, draconic laugh echoed throughout the valley.
Then,
BOOM.
A deafening impact exploded through the wasteland.
Artoria's eyes widened.
Something struck her face with overwhelming force.
Her body launched backward across the valley floor, skidding violently before she finally planted her sword into the ground to stop herself.
Blood dripped from her lips.
She snapped her head upward in disbelief.
Callum stood there breathing heavily, his fist still extended.
The prison around him had shattered.
Artoria's expression twisted with genuine shock.
"HOW?!" she yelled.
"How did you break free?!"
Callum slowly wiped blood from his mouth, his eyes colder than the frozen valley itself.
"How?" he repeated quietly.
He took a slow step forward.
"Because I am the last heir of my clan."
Another step.
"And I would be damned..."
The ground cracked beneath his feet.
"...if I allowed a relic like you to defeat me."