The symbols along the arena's edge flared brighter, locking into place like a seal. The air thickened, every breath heavier than the last.
Cameron moved first.
Not with speed—but with certainty.
The ground folded beneath Thar's feet as a wave of shadow surged upward. Thar planted his hammer and met it head-on, runes blazing as he absorbed the impact. The shock rolled outward, knocking lesser soldiers off their feet beyond the barrier.
"Noa—left flank!" Thar barked.
Noa was already there.
He vanished in a burst of white, reappearing behind Cameron with a precise, controlled strike. The blow landed this time—light tearing through shadow—and Cameron slid back several steps, boots scraping across the stone.
A thin line of blood appeared at the corner of Cameron's mouth.
He wiped it away, studying it with something like curiosity. "You learned restraint," he said to Noa. "Interesting."
"I learned control," Noa replied, voice low. "You should have done the same."
Cameron's eyes hardened. "Control is a luxury for those not drowning in lies."
He raised both hands. The symbols ignited in sequence, and the arena itself responded—walls of darkness slamming inward, compressing space.
Thar charged.
He leapt through the collapsing shadows, hammer whirling. Cameron countered, conjuring a blade of void that met the hammer mid-air. The clash sent a thunderous crack through the realm, light and darkness grinding against each other.
"You were always like this," Cameron said through clenched teeth. "Standing in the way. Protecting a system that eats its own."
"And you chose to become the monster you hated," Thar shot back. "That was your choice."
Cameron twisted, releasing a blast that hurled Thar across the arena. Thar skidded, armor screaming as it scraped the stone. He forced himself upright just in time to see Cameron turn on Noa.
Chains of shadow lashed out again—but this time Noa caught them.
Light surged from his eye, coursing down his arms as he tore the chains apart. The effort made him stagger, breath hitching.
"Enough!" Noa shouted. "End this, Cameron!"
Cameron paused.
For a heartbeat, something human flickered across his face.
Then it vanished.
He thrust his hand forward.
The arena responded with a deafening pulse. A spear of condensed darkness formed instantly—far denser than before—aimed straight for Noa's chest.
Thar saw it.
He didn't think.
He moved.
Thar stepped between Noa and the spear, raising his hammer in a final, desperate guard.
The impact was silent.
The spear pierced through the hammer's head, through the runes, through Thar's armor—driving him backward. The force lifted him off his feet before slamming him to the ground.
"No—!" Noa screamed.
The world seemed to stall.
Thar lay still, the spear dissolving into smoke as it withdrew. His hammer slipped from his grasp, clattering across the stone.
Cameron stared, eyes widening just slightly. "You… would still choose him."
Thar coughed, blood staining his lips—but he smiled.
"Every… time."
With the last of his strength, Thar pressed his palm to the ground. The runes etched into his armor ignited one final time, flaring brighter than ever before.
"Noa," Thar said weakly. "Listen."
Noa dropped beside him, hands shaking. "Don't—don't do this. I can hold it back. I can fix—"
"You can't," Thar interrupted gently. "And that's okay."
The arena began to crack.
"You're stronger than this curse," Thar whispered. "Stronger than him. Don't let my end… be your beginning into darkness."
The light surged outward.
A massive shockwave tore through the realm, shattering the symbols, ripping the arena apart. Cameron was hurled backward, barely managing to shield himself as the black void collapsed in on itself.
The illusion broke.
The soldiers were thrown onto solid earth beneath a dawning sky.
Cameron stumbled at the edge of the collapsing rift, cloak torn, blood running freely now. He looked back once—at Noa cradling Thar's body.The battlefield fell silent.
Noa knelt in the dirt, holding Thar as the last glow faded from his armor. Thar's eyes were closed, his face peaceful—as if the burden he had carried for so long had finally lifted
"No…" Noa whispered, voice hollow. "You promised you'd walk out of this."
There was no answer.
Behind him, the air shifted.
Lunnaux's breath caught. "Noa—!"
Too late.
The shadows gathered again, folding inward like wings. Cameron emerged from the fractured space, wounded but standing, his presence heavier than before. Whatever restraint he had left was gone.
"You see now," Cameron said quietly, stepping closer. "This is the cost of hesitation. Of mercy."
Noa didn't turn.
His left eye dimmed, flickering erratically. The power that once roared within him now sputtered, exhausted—empty.
Cameron raised his hand.
Darkness condensed, sharper than before, humming with finality.
"You should have died with him," Cameron said. "But instead—you'll live as proof."
The force surged forward.
Lunnaux screamed.
Noa closed his eyes.
A sound cut through the air.
Whistling.
The darkness shattered.
An arrow—wrapped in spiraling wind and faint golden runes—pierced straight through Cameron's attack, splitting it apart mid-flight. The impact detonated the shadow into fragments that dissolved harmlessly into the air.
Cameron staggered back, eyes widening.
"…That trajectory," he muttered.
A second arrow struck the ground between Cameron and Noa, embedding itself deep into the stone. Wind erupted outward, forming a barrier that forced Cameron to retreat several steps.
A figure stood on the broken ridge above the battlefield.
Cloaked.
Bow still raised.
The archerer.
Cameron laughed bitterly.
"Elysium will fall," he said. "If not by my hand—then by the truth you refuse to face."
The shadows swallowed him once more.
And he was gone.
The archerer was about to leave.
But Noa called him and begged to heal Thar wounds.
Lunnaux also tried to stop the wounds by freezing.
But it was already too late.
The archerer didn't answer and left turning his back on Noa and Others.