Nebula barely managed to bring up his arm. The impact snapped bone, sent him flying backward through a pillar of molten stone.
He hit the ground hard, sliding through the mud, coughing blood.
Cain trudged after him, dragging his weapon behind. The rain hissed against the blade’s heat, steam rising in thick plus.
Nebula forced himself up, one knee digging into the ground. His breathing was ragged, erratic.
"I could’ve... ended this from the start," he muttered. "You’re not the only one with tricks."
Cain tilted his head. "So why didn’t you?"
Nebula’s grin was cracked and bloody. "Because I wanted to see what you’d do without your mana. To see if the stories were worth anything."
"And?"
Nebula chuckled weakly. "They weren’t exaggerated."
Cain’s expression didn’t change. He raised {Eidwyrm}.
Nebula raised his arm.
For a mont, it looked like both were about to throw everything they had left.
Then the ground beneath them shifted. A deep rumble shook the battlefield, the molten rivers around them bubbling violently. The storm responded, lightning flickering faster, almost erratic.
Cain glanced at the sky. Sothing massive was building above the clouds—a luminous vortex, swirling with unnatural light.
Nebula saw it too. His smirk faded. "You feel that?"
Cain nodded slowly. "That’s not either of us."
The light intensified. The entire world around them began to tremble, as though so vast presence was watching through the veil of the storm.
For the first ti, neither man moved to strike.
For the first ti, they both felt it—sothing greater than their hatred, sothing old and patient and waiting.
The rain slowed. The air grew heavy.
Cain lifted his gaze toward the growing light above and muttered under his breath, "We might’ve just woken sothing up."
Nebula lowered his arm, his breathing uneven. "Then let’s see which of us it kills first."
The next bolt of lightning struck between them, and the world vanished in white.
The whiteout lasted only a second—then ca the sound.
A roar so deep it didn’t just echo through the air, it crawled through the ground and into bone. The landscape convulsed as if so massive creature were turning beneath the crust. The molten rivers from before didn’t just shimr—they erupted upward, forming walls of liquid tal that spiraled into the storm.
Cain dug his boots into the slick mud, anchoring himself against the shockwave that followed. His coat whipped violently in the wind as his eyes darted through the haze.
Nebula was already moving.
The bastard hadn’t even hesitated—he used the chaos as cover, blinked forward in a shimr of steel and light, and slashed at Cain’s throat.
Cain ducked, the blade missing by a hair, and brought his knee up into Nebula’s ribs. The crack was sharp enough to be heard over the storm.
Nebula coughed blood but twisted on impact, driving an elbow into Cain’s jaw, spinning him sideways. He followed it with another slash—but this ti, Cain caught the blade mid-swing with his bare hand.
The edge tore into flesh, but Cain didn’t let go. His other arm drove {Eidwyrm} straight through Nebula’s side.
Nebula gasped, eyes wide—but before Cain could pull the blade free, Nebula’s form broke apart again, dissolving into hundreds of shimring fragnts that darted away like living shrapnel.
They sward the air, orbiting Cain in a tightening sphere.
Cain cursed, eyes darting as the fragnts pulsed with an eerie glow. He knew this pattern—it was sothing like a containnt field, but more chaotic. Improvised.
He swung once, twice, sending arcs of golden energy into the air. Half the fragnts shattered—but the others detonated in rapid succession.
The explosions slamd into him, one after another, until the world beca fire and ringing pain.
He was thrown through the mud, tumbling end over end before slamming into a chunk of half-lted rock. The impact cracked the surface, sending sparks and steam bursting outward.
Cain lay there for a second, blinking the haze away.
His clothes were scorched, his arm burned raw, and blood dripped freely from his temple.
He grinned anyway.
"Alright," he rasped. "That was new."
Nebula reappeared across the field, clutching his side where the blade had gone through. His breathing was ragged, shallow—but his smirk hadn’t faded.
"You’re supposed to be ash right now."
Cain spat blood into the mud. "Guess I’m defective."
The ground trembled again before either could move. This ti it wasn’t the storm—it was sothing deeper. The molten walls they’d ignored earlier began collapsing inward, streams of glowing tal converging at a single point behind Nebula.
A shape began forming within the heat—tall, skeletal, its surface tallic and molten, shifting with every blink. It had no face, only a hollow cavity that seed to pull in light.
Both n turned toward it.
Nebula took one step back. "What in the hell—"
Cain didn’t answer. His eyes narrowed.
The air was heavy with pressure. Not mana, not divinity—sothing else. Sothing old. The molten creature raised an arm, its body cracking with veins of golden light.
Then it moved.
The swing was impossibly fast for its size. The air itself bent around the motion, and both n barely leapt aside as the arm slamd into the earth, carving a trench through the battlefield.
Cain hit the ground rolling, already retaliating—he raised {Eidwyrm} and fired three condensed shots into the creature’s chest. Each one hit with the force of artillery, detonating in bursts of golden light.
The creature staggered but didn’t fall. Instead, its molten surface rippled, absorbing part of the attack.
Nebula didn’t hesitate. He extended his hand and summoned every remaining blade in the air, forming a massive spear of tal that he hurled with enough speed to leave a sonic boom in its wake.
It hit dead center.
The creature’s chest exploded outward, molten fragnts flying in all directions. For a brief mont, it looked like it was over—then the fragnts stopped midair and began pulling back together.
Cain swore under his breath. "Of course it regenerates."
Nebula’s jaw clenched. "That’s your kind of trick, isn’t it?"
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