The armored Cockatrice lunged again, its massive form surprisingly agile as it twisted mid-air. Its silver-plated beak snapped like a guillotine, missing Burning Storm’s shoulder by mere inches. The air itself seemed to part before the creature’s strike, creating a vacuum that pulled at Raizel’s clothing.
Burning Storm pivoted, twin swords singing through the air in a deadly cross-pattern.
The Cockatrice let out with a deafening screech that shattered remaining windows for hundreds of meters. Glass rained down like crystal tears as the beast’s armored tail whipped forward with devastating force, carving through a marble column as if it were paper.
Raizel dodged with preternatural speed, but the edge of the tail’s armored plates grazed his cheek, drawing a thin line of crimson. Rather than retreat, he charged forward, using the momentum to slide beneath the Cockatrice’s massive form.
From below, he struck upward with both blades, aiming for the softer underbelly between armor plates. The swords connected, but instead of piercing flesh, they met unexpected resistance. Sparks erupted like angry fireflies as metal scraped against an invisible shield of essence.
“You didn’t think it would be that easy?”
The young soldier taunted.
“My essence is Petrification—the very power that turns living things to stone.”
The ground beneath Burning Storm’s feet began to crystallize, stone creeping up his boots like hungry vines. Raizel leapt backward just as the transformation reached his ankles, shattering the partially transmuted stone with raw force.
“Impressive…”
Burning Storm acknowledged, his emerald eyes calculating.
“But petrification requires sustained focus. And I won’t give you that luxury.”
He vanished in a blur of motion, reappearing behind the Cockatrice.
His twin swords merged into a singular great blade in mid-swing, the transformation so seamless it seemed like sleight of hand. The unified weapon hummed with barely contained power as it arced toward the beast’s spine.
The Cockatrice spun with uncanny speed, its armored wings forming a protective cocoon. The impact sent thunderous vibrations through the air, creating ripples of force that tore through the remaining structures around them. What had once been an elegant estate now resembled a war zone, rubble and destruction stretching as far as the eye could see.
The creature snarled, silver eyes narrowing.
“You’re holding back! Show me your true form, traitor. Show me the flames that earned you your title!”
Paragon Raizel’s face remained impassive, but something dangerous flickered behind his emerald gaze.
“You wish to see fire?”
With a controlled exhale, Burning Storm altered his stance. His sword began to glow, first red, then white-hot, the metal seeming to consume light rather than reflect it. The air around him shimmered with heat, distorting reality itself.
“Very well.”
Without manifesting his full essence, Raizel channeled raw power into his blade. When he swung, it wasn’t merely metal that cut through the air—it was concentrated force, devastating in its purity. The sword left trails of superheated air in its wake, creating a vacuum that imploded with deafening force.
The Cockatrice raised both armored wings to block, but this time, the impact sent it sliding backward, talons gouging deep trenches in the earth. Its silver armor glowed cherry-red where Raizel’s blade had connected, the metal warping under extreme heat.
For the first time, uncertainty flickered across the creature’s inhuman features.
Burning Storm pressed his advantage, each step creating small craters in the ground, each swing of his superheated blade unleashing waves of concentrated force. The Cockatrice parried and dodged with increasing desperation, its movements becoming more defensive than offensive.
“This is but a fraction of my power.”
Paragon Raizel stated, his voice carrying over the cacophony of destruction.
“You speak of betrayal without understanding the greater vision. There is no vision that justifies alliance with evil! Darkness! Destruction!!”
The Cockatrice spat a glob of venomous essence that sizzled through the air.
Burning Storm side-stepped the projectile, which struck a fallen pillar behind him. The marble instantly crystallized, turning to solid stone with veins of silver running through it.
“You are nothing but a narrow-minded fool! All of you!!”
Burning Storm replied, his blade now leaving afterimages as it sliced through the air.
“The Lieutenant you so faithfully serve keeps you blind to the true threats.”
The Cockatrice unleashed another cyclonic blast from its wings, but this time, Raizel didn’t attempt to cut through it. Instead, he planted his feet firmly, his blade held vertically before him. The wind howled and tore at his clothing, but he remained unmoved, a statue in the eye of the storm.
When the gale subsided, Burning Storm stood unscathed, a thin smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
He thrust his sword skyward, and the air around him ignited. Not with common flame, but with essence-fire—a mesmerizing dance of emerald and gold that consumed nothing yet radiated terrible heat. The fire spiraled up his arm, across his shoulders, down his spine, until his entire form was outlined in burning light.
The Cockatrice took an involuntary step backward, its silver eyes wide with primal fear.
Raizel explained calmly:
“This isn’t full manifestation… It’s merely a taste.”
With a flick of his wrist, he sent a wave of essence-fire hurtling toward the creature. The Cockatrice crossed its armored wings before it, essence gathering to create a shield of petrifying energy. Fire met stone in a catastrophic collision that sent shockwaves rippling outward.
The ground beneath them split open, revealing the foundation stones of the buildings around.
Through the chaos, the Cockatrice lunged forward, one talon extended in a desperate strike. Its claws, now glowing with obsidian petrifying essence, aimed straight for Paragon Raizel’s heart.
Burning Storm pivoted at the last possible moment, the talon missing his vital organs but tearing through his side. Blood and fire mixed as he spun away, his own blade slicing across the Cockatrice’s shoulder joint where armor plates met.
Crimson ichor sprayed from the wound, sizzling where it touched Raizel’s essence-fire. The creature shrieked in pain and fury, its injured wing drooping slightly.
They circled each other, both wounded, both deadly. The young soldier’s manifestation was impressive but draining his reserves rapidly. Already, the edges of his armored form seemed less solid, the silver of his eyes flickering like a guttering candle.
“You can’t maintain this form much longer.”
Burning Storm observed, his own wound already cauterizing from the heat of his essence-fire.
“Yield now, and live to fight another day.”
The Cockatrice spat, gathering its remaining strength.
“I would rather die than yield to a traitor.”
The air between them grew heavy with concentrated essence, reality itself bending under the pressure of their opposing wills. The Cockatrice’s petrifying aura expanded outward, turning small debris to stone wherever it touched. Burning Storm’s essence-fire intensified in response, consuming and crushing the petrification effect with terrifying force wherever the two powers met.
“So be it.”
Raizel said softly, almost regretfully.
The Cockatrice launched itself forward in one final, desperate attack, both talons extended, beak open in a silent scream of defiance. Its remaining strength poured into this last strike, turning its entire form into a missile of petrifying essence.
Burning Storm did not dodge. Instead, he met the charge head-on, his blade held before him like a spear. As the distance closed between them, he channeled all his essence-fire into the sword, causing it to shine with unbearable brightness.
The collision was inevitable, devastating, and final.
In that moment of impact, time itself seemed to hesitate. The emerald flames didn’t merely burn—they compressed and sharpened along the edge of Raizel’s blade, becoming a cutting inferno with crushing weight. The petrifying force of the Cockatrice met this dual-natured essence, creating a nexus of power that hovered between them like a newborn star.
Then, with a sound like the world taking its final breath, the balance broke.
Burning Storm’s essence pressed upon reality with its crushing will despite not fully manifesting his essence. The emerald flames spiraled around the blade in tightening bands, simultaneously slicing through the Cockatrice’s defenses while compressing with gravitational force. The sword pierced through the nexus not just with sharpness but with overwhelming pressure, cleaving through armor as the fire-weight behind it crushed essence and will alike.
The creature’s momentum carried it forward onto the sword even as Raizel’s cutting flames raced along the metal. Where they touched, the Cockatrice’s form didn’t simply burn—it collapsed inward, compressed and sliced from within by the dual nature of Burning Storm’s essence. Armor plates didn’t melt but imploded, crushed by invisible weight before being severed by emerald-edged fire.
The young soldier’s scream—human once more as his manifestation faltered—echoed across the ruined estate. His form flickered between beast and man, essence and flesh, the magnificent armor not crumbling but compacting into itself before being sliced apart, falling away like precisely cut fragments and vanishing into sparks.
Paragon Raizel withdrew his blade in a single, clean motion, stepping aside as the young soldier collapsed to his knees.
Blood mixed with rapidly dissipating essence pooled beneath him, yet still, defiance burned in his eyes.
He gasped, looking up at Burning Storm.
“Finish it! Prove to the world that you are nothing but a traitor!”
Paragon Raizel extinguished his essence-fire with a thought, the crushing weight and cutting edge dissipating as his sword cooled to normal temperature in his grip. He regarded the fallen soldier with something almost like respect, saying quietly.
“Your courage is commendable. But your death would serve no purpose.”
The young soldier tried to rise, managed only to lift himself on one trembling arm.
“Then why?”
He demanded, blood staining his lips.
“Why betray everything we stood for?”
Burning Storm sheathed his blade, his emerald eyes unreadable.
“Young soldier. I never betrayed anything. What you see as the great vision today started with mere childhood fantasies of Dante and I. Being descendants of Gafarè, the only ones that inherited the purpose and mandate. Dante was the one who betrayed that vision.”
A little pain flashed across his face.
“This was never our vision. Destruction was never included.”
He turned away from the defeated soldier, continuing his purposeful march toward the complex that now bore scars of their battle.
Behind him, the young Paragon slumped to the ground, consciousness fading as his essence reserves depleted entirely.
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