The battlefield burned.
Steel clashed against claw and fang as the Army of the Sun pushed deeper into the ruins of the Citadel of the Stars. Awakened warriors fought shoulder to shoulder, blades glowing with flames of all colours, shields cracking under monstrous blows. Ascended generals moved like living Grim reapers, every strike annihilating Nightmare Creatures.
And still they came.
From cracks in the earth, from collapsed towers, from pools of half-coagulated blood, the creatures of the night surged forward, howling as if the world itself screamed through them.
Caspian stood at the center of it.
And he was unstoppable.
He moved through the horde like a crimson phantom, claws flashing, body blurring from one kill to the next. His senses were razor-sharp, his movements effortless. Each strike was lethal, each leap perfectly timed.
[You have slain an Awakened Beast, Creature of the Night.]
[You have slain an Awakened Beast, Creature of the Night.]
[You have slain an Awakened Beast, Creature of the Night.]
The Spell's voice layered itself into the chaos, almost rhythmic.
Blood splashed across Caspian's skin, but none of it slowed him. The power he carried — stolen from the Saint's in it majority— made the battlefield feel small.
And yet…
His eyes kept drifting upward.
High above the citadel, light and shadow tore the sky apart.
—————————
The Tyrant, his brother, met him head-on.
Their collision shattered the air, a shockwave rippling outward as fire and crimson shadow clashed violently. Verdam screamed — not in pain, but in fury — wings beating as he forced his brother away from the citadel, dragging the colossal bat creature toward the river beyond the ruins.
"Why?" Verdam roared, flames surging brighter. "Why did you choose this path?!"
The Tyrant laughed.
It was a sound that sended chills down the long spine of Verdam's beastly form.
"You still don't understand, older brother" he hissed. "I didn't change. I evolved, i'm but a mere step away from my...coronation, and that step...is you."
They tore at each other midair, talons and fangs ripping through burning feathers and corrupted flesh. Black blood rained from the sky, sizzling where it struck the ground.
Verdam forced him back, inch by inch, until the river came into view below — wide, dark, and cold.
"You were chosen by the Moon Goddess," Verdam shouted. "She trusted you! She gave you a second gift after the fall — why betray her?!"
The Tyrant's crimson eyes burned brighter.
"It wasn't her."
Verdam froze — just for an instant.
"What?" he demanded.
The Tyrant grinned, a monstrous, broken thing.
"It was the God of Death."
The words hit harder than any blow.
"The Shadow." the Tyrant continued, voice reverent now. "He showed me truth. He showed me what the Moon never dared. That this world does not need balance… it needs peace."
Their bodies slammed into the riverbank, earth exploding upward as both crashed down in a storm of dust.
They transformed.
Fire collapsed inward. Shadow recoiled.
When the dust settled, two men stood facing one another.
Both ruined warriors of a world at the brink of calamity, both knew that if they killed the other, supremacy would be theirs, one did not wanted it, the other desired it more than anything else.
Verdam's armor was cracked, golden blood leaking from deep wounds. His flames burned erratically now, unstable. Across from him, the Tyrant stood hunched, one arm torn, his body pierced in multiple places — yet his grip on the Crimson Sword was unwavering.
"Look at you" the Tyrant sneered. "Still clinging to light."
Verdam raised his blade.
"And you." he replied quietly. "Still afraid of the dark."
They charged.
Steel rang out.
—————————
Do not lose sight of the sun.
The Saint of the Stars' words echoed in Caspian's mind as he tore another creature apart, his claws ripping free a still-beating heart.
Or the moon will swallow it whole.
Caspian froze.
His gaze snapped away from the battlefield.
Verdam.
He could feel it — the wrongness. The pressure. The scent of burning flesh carried on the wind.
Without another thought, Caspian turned and ran.
He abandoned the battlefield.
He followed instinct, memory, and something deeper — a pull he could not explain. The scent of Verdam's fire led him beyond the citadel, toward the river.
Then—
The world exploded.
A blinding flash of crimson and gold erupted ahead, throwing Caspian backward. He skidded across broken earth, barely managing to shield his face as debris rained down.
When the dust cleared—
He saw them.
Verdam was on his knees.
The Tyrant stood over him, pressing the Crimson Sword against his stomach, its blade burning as it pierced deeper, inch by inch.
Verdam was not dead, yet.
But he would be in no time.
The Tyrant himself looked ruined — one arm missing, blood pouring from his side, half his face was burned, his form flickering between human and monster. Yet he laughed.
"You lose" he rasped.
Verdam looked up.
And smiled.
He grabbed his brother.
Locked his arms around him, in one last, warm embrace, for everything they once had together.
"Caspian" Verdam said softly.
The name cut through the chaos like a knife.
Caspian screamed it back. "VERDAM!"
The Saint of the Sun began to glow.
Not explosively.
Not violently.
But steadily — like a rising dawn.
"The sun" Verdam whispered, voice weakening, "should shine on the moon again."
Light poured from him.
Pure light, like a white stroke of paint adorned with gold.
A miniature sun igniting from within his body, pouring outward in waves of searing radiance. The Tyrant screamed as the light burned him, flesh blackening, shadow recoiling violently.
But he did not die, he refused to die, he did not wanted to die, he embraced the power of shadow, yet he was still afraid of the dark.
He burned.
Alive.
Verdam's glow began to fade.
"Now" he breathed. "Take it."
Caspian didn't hesitate, not now.
He rushed forward, ignoring the burning heat as he grabbed the Crimson Sword and tore it free from Verdam's torso.
Agony exploded through him.
Fire and light consumed his hands, his arms, his very soul—
But something else ignited too.
A faint blue glow flared just above his skin.
Starlight.
The Saint of the Stars' final gift shielded him, burning away instead of his life.
Caspian roared.
He turned.
And hurled the blade forward with everything he had.
"This ends now" Caspian screamed. "It's time a new moon shines in the sky!"
The Crimson Sword pierced the Tyrant's heart who was trying to run to the river to escape from the light.
Both of them fell.
Down into the river below.
Cold water swallowed fire and blood alike.
As Caspian sank, gasping, his vision blurred — but he saw one last thing.
Verdam.
Colorless.
Fading.
A sunbleached drawing of what he once was.
The Saint smiled faintly.
Caspian couldn't hear him.
But he read his lips.
"Thank you."
Verdam turned to ash, pure white ash.
The Spell's voice echoed.
[You have slain a Corrupted Tyrant, Tyrant of the Moon.]
[You have slain a Transcendent Human, Verdam of the Celestial Bodies.]
[You have received a memory...]
The river carried Caspian away, while caspian was thinking about how the spell gave Verdam's kill to him, maybe because pulling the sword from his body counted as the last hit.
Above, human voices rose.
Cheers.
Victory.
The living had won, the nightmare was over.
And as if it agreed with him, the spell voice sounded clear, even when water filled Caspian's ears.
[Wake up, Caspian! Your nightmare is over.]
[Prepare for appraisal...]