The Great Sages pressed on, the dirt road flattening as the distant kingdom swelled with every step. The morning sun climbed higher, casting long, skeletal shadows across a landscape where even the birds had fallen silent. The world itself seemed to hold its breath, sensing the storm gathering ahead. The breeze carried only the scent of stone, dust, and the stale tang of a kingdom bracing for war.
Eiden slowed, then came to a dead halt. The others stopped instinctively, mirroring the sudden tension in his posture. No one spoke; the shift in the air said enough. The wind died, the grass stilled, and a suffocating pressure settled over them like an unseen hand pressing against their skin. Even the sunlight seemed to dim as the sky itself recoiled.
Vaelus squinted toward the horizon, his voice trailing off into a whisper. "What's with the air…"
Then they saw it.
High above the kingdom, a massive spear hung suspended in the heavens—a divine executioner's weapon. It was a colossal construct of shimmering energy, its scale rivaling that of a falling meteor. The surface pulsed with a rhythmic, emerald light, veins of power crawling across its length like living lightning. The very air warped and twisted around it, bending under the sheer force radiating from its core. It loomed over the city, casting a long, unnatural shadow across the pale walls.
Vaelus's jaw dropped. "Woah… what the hell…"
Before another word could be uttered, the spear fell.
It dropped from the clouds with impossible speed, tearing through the sky with a deafening hum that ripped across the plains. The ground trembled. The air vibrated. The sunlight flickered.
Then came the impact.
A blinding explosion of bright green light erupted on the horizon, swallowing the kingdom in a gargantuan dome of radiance. A shockwave tore across the land, ripping dust from the earth and shaking the Sages to their cores. The wind roared past them, violent and wild, whipping their cloaks like banners in a gale. The sky itself seemed to scream.
When the light finally faded, a hollow silence remained. Where towering walls and elegant spires once stood, there was only shattered stone and drifting dust. The banners were ash; the castle, a memory. The once-mighty stronghold had been reduced to rubble scattered across a ruined plain.
Morvath exhaled slowly, his eyes wide. "Damn… it seems like Yajin killed the Angel King."
Eiden didn't blink. "Don't be a fool," he said, his voice chillingly steady. "That attack isn't nearly powerful enough to kill the Angel King."
As if in answer, two figures burst into the sky.
One shone with a blinding white aura, wings spread wide and feathers glowing like molten silver. The other radiated a brilliant, toxic green, the air around him crackling with raw, unbridled power. Their presence alone distorted the clouds, bending the firmament to their will.
They collided mid-air.
A thunderous shockwave rolled over the Sages as spells erupted in every direction. Streaks of white and green light tore across the heavens, and the sound of blades clashing echoed from miles away—divine thunder ringing across the plains. Each impact sent ripples through the atmosphere, scattering the clouds in violent bursts.
The two figures darted and spun, crashing into each other with impossible speed, hurling one another across the sky like falling stars. Every strike carved new scars into the air; every clash shook the very foundation of the land beneath the Sages' feet.
Vaelus swallowed hard, his eyes reflecting the carnage above. "They're… insane."
Selyndra's golden hair whipped in the wind as her eyes narrowed. "This is a battle between kings."
Eiden stepped forward, the explosions of light dancing in his cold, calm eyes. "And we're walking straight into it."