The blue flames radiating from Adgrun's body were hotter than the sun—scorching, unrelenting, divine in intensity. Every flicker of fire hissed like a beast starved for destruction.
Opposite him, Izzox stood cloaked in a pure and blinding light so bright it outshone the heavens. His divine aura pulsed in rhythm with his heart, bathing the battlefield in holy luminance.
Both warriors had transcended.
Their senses sharpened, their speed enhanced, and their strength multiplied tenfold—this was no longer just a battle. It was the end.
Adgrun stepped forward, azure fire pouring from every crack in his crimson-scaled body. The flames surged around him like living serpents, licking the air, burning the stone beneath his feet. He didn't walk—he marched like a demon ascending from the depths of hell.
Izzox moved too, silent and regal, the white light streaming from his body trailing like the robes of a celestial guardian. His every step left glowing footprints across the charred obsidian, each humming with divine energy. He looked like an angel sent to deliver judgment.
Between them stretched a vast crater of shattered obsidian, born from the devastation of their previous clash. Thousands of feet of scorched terrain separated them—yet it may as well have been inches.
They appeared calm.
But beneath that calm, Izzox's mind churned with ancient emotion.
'Adgrun... It's been a thousand years. We've clashed through centuries, burned through time itself, but today, it ends.'
He vanished in a blink.
A flash of divine radiance blurred across the battlefield as Izzox surged forward, his light slicing through the air like a comet. The heat hit him long before he reached Adgrun—searing, crushing, world-ending heat.
It should have incinerated him.
But he moved faster than the fire could reach.
His sword pointed ahead, and he channeled mana into its radiant blade. The steel vanished, becoming light incarnate, then focused into a pinprick of blinding intensity at the tip.
A pure white laser fired forth—sharp, unstoppable, divine.
It struck.
Or at least—it tried.
The beam sizzled as it touched Adgrun's body, but it didn't pierce, burn, or leave a mark.
It evaporated.
The sheer heat of Adgrun's blue flames had raised the temperature of his scales beyond comprehension. Even light, condensed into divine matter, stood no chance.
Through the burning haze and the brilliance in Izzox's eyes, Adgrun saw the faintest flicker of confusion. Just a sliver.
That was all he needed.
Izzox didn't stop. He lunged forward, his sword now crackling with fresh divine energy. He aimed for the chest—past the fire, into the core.
Steel met scale.
A thunderous clang echoed through the crater, only for an instant. The blade melted on contact, liquefying when it touched Adgrun's infernal hide.
Izzox's eyes widened.
He turned to retreat—too late.
Adgrun's body twisted with brutal speed, his arm hurling the great axe with all the fury of a collapsing star. Its red hilt, now blue infernal fire, spun like a flaming wheel of death.
But it wasn't aimed at Izzox.
It carved a burning arc, then curved back toward Adgrun, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. The obsidian cracked, ignited, and blazed.
A circular wall of blue flame rose.
Izzox stopped mid-blur. His divine speed brought him to the edge of the ring—too late again.
He was surrounded.
A colosseum of infernal flame, twenty feet high, trapped him in with the demon he had fought for centuries. The heat alone could melt most metals. The air inside shimmered, vibrating with unbearable pressure.
Adgrun grinned—a wicked, tired, triumphant thing.
"No more dancing," he growled, his voice gravel and fire. "One final blow. Let's end this."
Izzox turned from the wall of searing fire and faced his rival.
Adgrun looked broken—his crimson scales cracked, his form shaking. The blue flames around him flickered violently, ravenous for mana. It took everything he had to maintain it.
'He's nearly out, Izzox thought. I could wait him out… then strike.'
But that wasn't how this story was meant to end.
He shook his head slowly, his pure light aura swaying with the motion.
"Let's finish this once and for all, Adgrun," he said, his voice calm, solemn.
A thousand years of bloodshed, they deserved more than a quiet end.
Both warriors raised their hands.
In Izzox's palm, the purest divine light began to swirl, infused with every ounce of mana he had left. It condensed, tighter and tighter, forming a glowing orb of transcendent power.
In Adgrun's hand, wild blue fire twisted violently—his mana coalescing, fighting itself, compressing into a dense, unstable sphere.
Two balls of destruction.
One of light, one of flame.
They stared at each other. For a moment, the battlefield was still.
A single tear trailed down Adgrun's cheek. It hissed, evaporated before it reached his chin.
'I'm going to miss this bastard.'
Izzox felt the same. He didn't need to say it.
Weapons dropped. No need for blades anymore.
With a final blur of motion, white and blue collided.
Silence.
Then—
BOOM.
The sky detonated.
A blast of divine light and infernal flame roared through the world like a god's wrath unleashed. The explosion shattered the very foundations of the crater, the ground cracking down to the world's core.
A tower of energy surged into the heavens—a beacon of fire and light that split the sky.
The shockwave hit the cliffs.
Hundreds of soldiers were thrown from their feet, the air knocked from their lungs. Even the gods, watching the battle on the cliff, turned their gaze.
In the heart of that supernova, two bodies flew in opposite directions.
The new crater was colossal, triple the size of the last, the land reduced to glowing rubble and ash.
At either end lay the dragonkin—Adgrun and Izzox.
Broken. Barely breathing. Arms severed.
Adgrun's blue flames flickered, dwindling to glowing embers. Izzox's radiant light sputtered—still warm, but faint, like a candle at its end.
They had survived.
Neither had won.
Adgrun stared at the sky, his lungs barely drawing breath. Above him, the heavens still burned with the aftermath of their clash.
A single thought whispered through his mind.
'Did I win?'
But before he could think further, something shifted.
His vision blurred. His pupils widened.
'Am I tripping? Or is something flying through the air?'
A figure—human, with messy black hair —is soaring through the sky.
Straight toward the beacon of flame and light.