Thalion struggled to suppress a wide grin as Kael charged at him, weapons drawn and eyes burning with fury. Everything was going exactly as planned. For a brief moment, Thalion had feared that Kael might retreat. The laughter from the skyships above had been brutal, echoing with scorn. They all knew what Thalion had done to the vampires using the Sanguine Thorn. They understood that Kael did not stand a chance. Still, Kael stayed.

To Thalion's surprise, Kael had grown stronger than expected. The aura he released was far more intense than anything he had shown before. It surged like a wave wild and raw. It may have even surpassed the vampires who had used the thorn. Though not quite on par with those who embraced the demon form, Kael was still powerful. But to Thalion, it was nothing to fear. He had been holding back and could match Kael’s strength without breaking a sweat. The true problem was Kael’s ability to escape. If he used an escape token, he could vanish in an instant.

Kael’s speed made a clean, final blow difficult. Killing him outright was not simple, and Thalion needed to avoid forcing Kael into a corner where he might flee. That was why he had kept much of his strength hidden. The Crimson Virethorn remained unused, and his aura had been restrained. If Kael knew how dangerous Thalion was in close combat, he would never have dared to charge. It was pure arrogance. Kael was slightly weaker, possibly slower, and chose to fight with a short sword and a dagger. Against the blade of a blooded templar, it was a laughable decision.

Thalion had considered two possible ways to finish the fight. The first was to behead Kael and end it instantly. The second was to slice off the hand that wore the spatial ring. Without the ring, Kael would likely lose access to the escape token. Yet beheading carried too much risk. Kael was reckless, but not stupid. He had made errors, but he was still skilled enough to avoid instant death. Some fighters even kept their tokens hidden under their robes, touching their skin. In that case, severing a finger would do nothing. That made the ring the most reliable target.

Kael closed the distance faster than expected. He must have activated some sort of burst skill for the final dash. Thalion felt a flicker of irritation. He would have enjoyed nothing more than to unleash his full strength and end the fight in a single strike. But if he pushed too hard, Kael might panic and escape. Thalion wanted him dead, or at the very least stripped of the stolen item. He still remembered the moment this conflict began. A god had broken the rules to empower Kael. That foolish act had triggered everything that followed and shaped Thalion into the force he had become.

Now, that same god would watch Kael fail. The item was nearly within Thalion’s grasp. The final pillar would fall, and Kael’s mission would unravel. Thalion almost pitied the conversation Kael would have with his divine patron once this was over. It would be far from pleasant. The failure would sting on many levels. Losing the item alone would be enough to bring shame. Kael had been blessed, yet he was outmatched and outmaneuvered.

Kael was in range now. His short sword lashed out in a wide arc while the dagger darted low, aiming for gaps in Thalion’s defense. Thalion moved back with ease, meeting the short sword with practiced deflections. He shifted his weight carefully to avoid the reach of the dagger. As long as he leaned into the side with more distance, the second blade remained harmless. The difference in quality between their weapons was stark. Kael’s short sword was nothing compared to the templar’s blade, which already shimmered with a crimson energy.

That strange skill Kael used allowed him brief surges of speed and force. He managed to land a few shallow cuts, barely scratching Thalion’s armor. If Thalion had been taking the fight seriously, Kael would not have touched him once. But this was a trap, and it needed patience. The escape token was still a threat, and Thalion needed the right moment to strike. Each movement was deliberate. Each step back was measured. The real fight had not even begun.

Hopefully, escape tokens had to be left behind during the teleportation into the new world. Otherwise, killing anyone with real backing and power would be an absolute nightmare. Every clash of their weapons rang out like thunder, echoing through the broken ruins around them. Thalion let himself fall back, always staying just out of reach of the dagger. He was waiting for the perfect moment to counter—ideally one clean strike to sever a few fingers and remove the spatial ring. But Kael was not overextending. Not even a little. Every move was measured, controlled, frustratingly disciplined.

Thalion had been holding back for what felt like forever. He didn’t dare release his full strength, even though every fiber of his being urged him to end this. The Crimson Virethorn, sensing his intent, stirred restlessly. It wanted blood. It wanted death. Thalion could feel the vines coiling beneath his skin, ready to erupt and pierce Kael’s heart the moment he let them. That made it even harder. He was fighting not only Kael but the weapon that craved his enemy’s life. To vent his tension, Thalion began to mock Kael loudly between exchanges, even scooping dirt into his hand and flinging it into Kael’s face—twice. His laughter rang out in the air, sharp and cruel. Kael’s anger burned brighter with every insult.

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The man had no composure, no tactical discipline. The last time Thalion had taunted him, Kael nearly broke into a monologue mid-fight. But this time, Kael kept quiet, likely thinking that the small wound he’d landed was worth more than verbal sparring. Against most fighters, it would have been. But Thalion was not most fighters. His armor repaired itself mid-battle, and his skin regenerated seconds after the blade passed. The cut was nothing. Kael's rage only grew as each attack failed to land with meaning. He tried feints and new techniques. One attack reminded Thalion of his own red slash—just painted in green.

Eventually, Thalion lost his patience. He stepped in and drove a heavy punch into Kael’s chest, sending the man flying back. But Kael’s dagger found its mark as well, burying itself in Thalion’s side. Poison burned through the wound immediately. It was familiar—something similar to what the vampires used on their claws. Still, it would burn out quickly, no match for Thalion’s vitality. But he saw an opportunity.

Clutching his side, Thalion hunched over and let his aura flicker like a dying flame. His steps staggered. His breath rasped. It was a ruse, a trap for Kael’s overconfidence. Judging by the wicked smile creeping across Kael’s face, it worked. His aura surged again, not by much, but enough to make him believe he had turned the tide. He didn’t understand. Thalion wasn’t afraid. He was preparing to kill him for good.

“Now you finally see it,” Kael shouted, arms outstretched. “You were never a threat to me!”

Thalion’s irritation grew as Kael sheathed his blades and summoned his bow again. Of course. Kael had only engaged in melee to land the poisoned strike, not realizing Thalion had played along to bait him. The last trace of venom was being consumed by the Crimson Virethorn or erased by Thalion’s regenerative power. The switch to ranged combat was a problem. It didn’t fit Thalion’s vision of how this battle was meant to go. In his dreams, he had found Kael and his companions in the catacombs, and an epic fight had erupted. He would cut them down one by one in glorious combat. This—pretending to be weak just to snatch a ring felt pathetic by comparison.

The first arrow whistled toward him. Thalion tilted his body and sidestepped effortlessly. Kael’s aim was good, but nothing exceptional. From this point on, Thalion had two options. Either he could bait Kael back into melee with more taunts or go all-out and try to finish him before that cursed escape token could activate. Since Kael was already fixated on ranged combat, the latter seemed the only choice. So, Thalion kept dodging the arrows, lacing every evasion with sarcasm.

“Nice shot, Kael. That one might’ve even scratched me if you'd aimed a little higher.”

“Oh, you’re speeding them up now? That won’t help if your aim is trash.”

“Is your flat nose still aching from that punch earlier?”

“Come on now. I’ve got a pillar to destroy. Why don’t you stop running and show me how brave you really are in close range?”

Above them, the laughter of Thalion’s comrades echoed from the skyships like a cruel chorus. That, more than anything, seemed to push Kael over the edge.

“Let’s see who’s laughing when I carve out your heart,” Kael snarled, launching an explosive arrow in Thalion’s direction. But it was a feint. A distraction. As soon as the arrow flew, Kael dismissed his bow and charged again, short sword and dagger materializing in his hands.

Thalion played along, stumbling back, hand still pressed to his side as if the wound continued to debilitate him. Kael grinned wide, scenting victory. His blades flashed green with energy as he closed the distance, preparing to strike.

This was it.

Thalion let everything go.

His aura erupted outward like a shockwave, shaking the air. The fear effect embedded in his armor crashed into Kael’s psyche. Their eyes met for a heartbeat, and Thalion unleashed the full force of his gaze. Crimson fire exploded around him, dancing in coils through the ignited air. The ground trembled beneath his feet as power surged through him unchecked.

And Kael, so confident, so close. Was finally within reach.