The cavern trembled as Ryn's fingertips sparked with living lightning.
Malrik barely raised his void-blade in time. The bolt struck with the force of a falling star, sending him skidding backward across the stone floor. His armor smoked where the electricity had kissed it, the stench of scorched metal mixing with the cave's damp rot.
"Little lordling learned a new trick," Malrik sneered, though his voice lacked its usual mocking cadence. The void-blade pulsed hungrily in his grip, its darkness writhing like a living thing.
Ryn didn't speak. Couldn't. The storm filled him to bursting—a tempest crammed into mortal flesh. Every breath crackled with power, every heartbeat sent new energy coursing through veins turned to lightning rods.
The First Stormcaller's voice whispered through the howling winds in his mind:
*"The stone's power is yours, but your body cannot contain it for long. Strike now."*
Ryn moved.
**[Stormcaller Astra Manifestation: Tempest Form]**
*Physical enhancements: 300% increase*
*Wind manipulation at molecular level*
*Duration limit: Unknown (potentially fatal)*
He crossed the cavern in less than a blink, his fist connecting with Malrik's breastplate. The impact rang through the chamber like a cathedral bell, denting the dark metal inward. Malrik's breath left him in a whoosh as he crashed into the altar, the Heartwind Stone's remnants cutting into his back.
Ryn pressed the advantage. His next strike aimed for Malrik's throat—but the warlord rolled aside at the last second, void-blade lashing upward.
Shadow met storm in a cataclysmic clash.
The resulting shockwave shattered stalactites from the ceiling. Razored stone rained down as the two combatants parted, both breathing heavily.
Malrik touched his fingers to the dent in his armor and chuckled wetly. "So the pup finally bites." He straightened with visible effort, his free hand moving to his belt. "But you're not the only one with gifts."
**[Void Astra Corruption: Phase 2]**
*Malrik's flesh merges with armor*
*Void energy consumption doubles*
*Side effects: Irreversible cellular decay*
The change happened faster than Ryn could react. The warlord's armor seemed to melt into his skin, the dark metal flowing like liquid shadow until man and metal became one grotesque entity. His helmet sealed permanently to his face, the crown-like ridges elongating into twisted horns. Where his eyes had been, only pulsing violet emptiness remained.
The void-blade grew with him, extending into a massive executioner's sword wreathed in devouring darkness.
"Better," Malrik's distorted voice echoed from within his new form. "Now we fight as equals."
He moved.
Ryn barely dodged the first strike. The void-blade passed so close he felt its hunger pulling at his very essence. The second slash came faster, shearing through the edge of Ryn's tunic and drawing first blood—a thin line across his ribs that burned like frostbite.
*"You're thinking like a human,"* the First's voice chided. *"You are wind given will. Flow!"*
Ryn stopped trying to dodge.
Instead, he let the storm guide him.
Malrik's next overhead strike should have split him in two—but Ryn's body dissolved into mist an instant before impact, reforming behind the warlord. His counterattack, a whip of condensed lightning, carved a smoking trench across Malrik's back.
The warlord roared in pain and whirled, but Ryn was already gone again, his form flickering like stormlight between positions.
"Stand and fight!" Malrik bellowed, his void-blade drinking the cavern's light with every movement.
Ryn answered with a tornado's fury.
**[Stormcaller Technique: Skyfang Barrage]**
*Creates 100+ wind blades per second*
*Each edge honed to monomolecular sharpness*
*Duration: 3 seconds (any longer risks limb loss)*
The attack shredded what remained of Malrik's armor, exposing pulsating violet flesh beneath. Black ichor that couldn't possibly be blood sprayed across the cavern walls, hissing where it struck stone.
Malrik staggered—then laughed.
"Is that all?" He spread his arms, the wounds already knitting together with squirming void energy. "The storm's might, wasted by a child who—"
A silver wire wrapped around his throat.
"Miss me, bastard?"
Lira's voice.
Ryn's heart lurched as she emerged from a side tunnel, her left arm hanging useless but her right gripping the wire with white-knuckled intensity. Her face was a mask of blood and dirt, her teeth bared in a feral grin.
Malrik grabbed at the wire, but Lira yanked hard, the enhanced garrote slicing deep. More black ichor fountained as she planted a boot between his shoulder blades and pulled with all her Body Astra-enhanced strength.
"Now, Ryn!"
He didn't hesitate.
**[Stormcaller Final Technique: Heaven's Spear]**
*Condenses entire storm into single point*
*Penetration power: Unlimited*
*Aftereffects: Near-certain unconsciousness*
The world narrowed to a single blue-white point at Ryn's fingertips. The cavern's air screamed as it was vacuum-sealed around the gathering energy. Even Malrik's void-blade dimmed in the face of this concentrated fury.
For the first time, fear flickered in those violet voids that were Malrik's eyes.
The blast tore through him like judgment.
There was no dramatic last word. No final curse. Just a pulse of cleansing storm energy that reduced the Voidsworn warlord to scattering ashes, his blade shattering like obsidian glass.
Silence.
Then Ryn collapsed, the storm abandoning his veins all at once. Agony followed—every muscle, every nerve ending screaming from the overload.
Lira caught him before his head could hit the stone. Her face swam in his failing vision.
"Damn fool kid," she muttered, but her hands were gentle as she checked his pulse. "Just like your father."
The last thing Ryn saw before darkness took him was the Heartwind Stone's remnants glowing softly nearby, their light pulsing in time with his slowing heartbeat.
remains of the Heartwind Stone? Where did Lira disappear to? And why does the wind now whisper of an older, greater threat stirring in the north?