Liron took an offensive stance, the ox, aiming his blade's tip at the Ch'riun. The Qilesh danced its arm stomps, moving the remaining Mass into his broken arms. Liron's embers had bitten deep into the clubs. Their heat had scorched the flesh, turning it into a freckle crust, losing all mobility. The additional mass did not suffice to repair the damage, but it allowed them to be used.
The Ch'riun moved its jaw, wanting to exchange a few final words with Liron. Before it could open its mouth, Liron shot his dagger out of his sword. Taken by surprise, the Ch'riun failed to bring its arms up in time. The dagger pierced its cheek, its steel melting into smoke, flooding the Qilesh's mouth with dark clouds. Liron ordered them to attach themselves to his foe's head and to attempt to surge into his throat.
The Ch'riun roared, thrashing around. It did not suffocate, as it breathed mostly through its gills. But the smoke edged its way into its body, threatening to claim its innards. To stop its advancement, it closed its throat off by creating a wall of its flesh. It adjusted its anatomy, causing its gills to pump air in an altered way.
Liron grinned, exploding himself towards the Ch'riun. While the smoke couldn't penetrate further, it didn't need to. His heightened focus lessened the mental load of yet another spell. As his embers, his smoke had an edge. From the inside of its throat, the smoke trapped inside became an evaporated sword. Clouds that cut upon touch.
The Ch'riun's eyes went wide as the smoke cleaved itself through its neck. If Liron could summon his Conduit through the Property of his Gate, this fight would have been won. Alas, the Qilesh had to suffer, clawing its neck. Not content, Liron commanded the smoke around the Ch'riun's head to cut as well. Its eyes, full of fear, were slashed apart before it knew what was happening.
With its hands trying to disperse the smoke, the Qilesh left itself wide open. Liron's black blade cut into its belly, its skin too thick to be opened. The embers coating his sword left behind torn furrows alongside the slash. They burnt the grey flesh, painting it black. Even without the flames accelerating his haue, Liron delivered four within a moment.
Consumed by pain, torn apart from two sides, the Ch'riun stumbled. It had faced death throughout its life, but Liron had brought it closer than ever before. Upon meeting it, the Qilesh proved how it achieved its current position. It slammed its fists down, forcing Liron to retreat. It grew eyes on its arms, allowing it to follow Liron.
The smoke still devastated its face and throat, but it pressed the agony aside. The only way to end its suffering was Liron's death. The five cuts had sawed away at its belly, scarring it in ugly burns. It danced its flesh, turning the wounds into a mouth. It lacked the time to restructure its anatomy for such a drastic change, revealing its guts as the maw opened itself. Parts splashed out as a shrill scream erupted from the mouth, its strength alone tearing its innards.
The lost javelin burst out from the wreckage of the smaller temple. It flew into the air, soaring towards its master's call. Another scream gave its direct command. It altered its trajectory, heading to the dead Zruns. Liron moved backwards, using his explosion to boost his footwork, escaping the Ch'riun's rage.
Despite that, he held up a hand, signaling Emma to not intervene. He knew his sister well enough. One simple illusion and the living javelin would fail to secure the Mass. Liron wanted it to succeed. He wanted his enemy to come at him with all its power. Then he would crush it, proving himself superior.
Emma hurled an insult at Liron's head, calling out his recklessness. He paid her no mind. He was too consumed by the fight.
The javelin picked up the dead Zruns, fusing their Mass to itself. It rammed into the Ch'riun's new mouth, allowing itself to be consumed. Energy fueled the Qilesh, breathing new life into it. It took hold of its head and neck, both gory shreds, and ripped them off. It discarded them, freeing itself of the smoke still attached to them.
The Ch'riun resummoned its facial features on its torso, mimicking its leader. Most Qilesh would die with the loss of their head. An advanced individual could survive such an injury if they had enough Mass to reconstruct the critical organs inside their bodies. This one had the wits to ensure its immediate survival, but its replacement for its brain was lacking. The Ch'riun did not have the skill to pull off such a stunt.
But it succeeded in engraving one final command onto its body. Kill Liron.
Mindless, the brute dashed forward, expanding its remaining two arms. Instead of growing a new pair, it bolstered its strength. Within a moment, they grew twice as large, tree trunks moving with the speed to belt in a Greater Machina. What a challenge.
Liron grinned, smoke bursting from his blade, engulfing him like a cape. As the first punch came his way, he interjected the blow with his dark cloud. He ignited them into tiny explosions, painting the arm into dozens of small stars. They failed to even scratch the Qilesh's skin, but they altered the attack's angle. The fist rushed past Liron's face, the hissing wind slapping him across his cheeks.
The Ch'riun raged forward, throwing an endless barrage of strikes at Liron. He scattered backward, keeping his distance from the Qilesh, but he stayed close enough for the punches to potentially hit him. Yet each missed him, Liron altering them with his explosions. His head ached at the effort, but he ignored it. He wanted to enjoy dominating this creature of war. Bred for violence, it knew nothing but fighting. For how many years had it littered Sannara's sand with the dead? War had taught it well, but not well enough.
He had not been in this war for more than a few weeks, but Liron outfenced this hardened warrior. If only it had a reasoning mind left, it would suffer the humiliation. Each second Liron played with it, his grasp of magic improved. His spells became sharper, solidifying themselves into a fifth sense he could use without thinking. Unfortunately, Liron had no audience to prove himself to. He had Emma's love, and it should have been enough. But as another powerful punch went nowhere, the force behind pulling the giant unbalanced, Liron realized he had fooled himself.
He wanted more than love. He wanted admiration and respect. Fear and awe. He wanted to look down at the rest of this world and let them know one thing. That he had ascended them.
Liron had planned to blow up the smoke, slashing apart the Ch'riun's neck to end this fight. But this turn had presented itself with new opportunities. Even in schemes failing, Liron found a new way to victory. Harras did not abandon him after all. He had been too quick to curse His name.
His smoke mantle rushed forward, slamming into the Ch'riun's torso, blinding the brute's eyes. It had not recovered its balance yet. The pain of the slash still echoed throughout its body, causing it to shriek. But the smoke did not cut away its eyes. There was no need for such a thing.
Liron exploded the back of his blade, casting a smaller one to better control his enhanced hau. He coated the other edge into ember. As his strike collided with his enemy, the smoke ignited, blasting apart. But Liron did not let it.
His Conduit became an extension of himself, pressing his will onto the explosion. Headaches erupted as violently as the new spell itself. The force itself attached itself to his blade, pressed into the shape of an edge. Instead of being dispersed as usual, all the energy focused itself onto the spot, aiming towards the Ch'riun's belly.
Liron held it for a blink, unleashing it. The spell rushed forward, tearing apart the plates and the thick skin of the Qilesh. With one hau, Liron cleaved the brute into two. The Ch'riun fell apart, its guts and underdeveloped brain splashing out of its body. Its upper side twitched, its arm reaching for Liron. He moved out of the way, panting as he looked down at its defeated enemy.
He caught one of the Ch'riun's eyes. There he saw it. The thing he wanted from this beast. Fear. Dread. Certainty.
It had lost, and it would die. Because of him.
Liron wanted to laugh at it, to hurl some witty insult at its head, but his legs gave way before he could. He fell to his knees, his vision spinning. The toll of the fight caught up to him. One short moment of rest, knowing the fight to be over, and his body refused to carry the burden any longer.
He threw up again, his head hurting like the Qilesh had split it apart. His condition was temporary. He had cast too many new spells, overdoing it with his experimentations. He needed a few moments to recover, but time was not on his side.
"You fuckin' ass!" Emma screamed at him.
Liron frowned, holding his stomach. He had forgotten about her calls. "Wh… what?" he asked.
She sprinted towards him, no need to hide from the Ch'riun any longer. "What the fuck do you think!" she called, reaching him. She took him by the head, turning him towards the dunes. "Look!"