Dread filled the air and suffocating them both. Adrius could feel it weighing heavily on his exhausted body and beside him, Lysander's anger had given way to something far worse — fear. The unrelenting storm of lightning that once surged around Lysander's sword flickered weakly now.
His confidence begin to shattered by the horrific sight of Theron standing tall, fully healed and more menacing than ever.
Theron's eyes gleamed with dark satisfaction as he took another step forward.
"What's the matter?" Theron sneered, his voice a low growl. "You're not so eager to attack anymore?"
Lysander's grip tightened around his sword but his body was trembling. The fear clawed at his insides and despite everything, he could feel his resolve slipping. His eyes darted to Adrius, searching for some kind of reassurance, but the Archmage was just as pale and drained as himself.
Before they could react, Theron lunged with full speed.
He moved faster than either of them could anticipate, his bare fist hurtling toward them with terrifying speed and force. Lysander barely managed to raise his sword in time, the blade clashing against Theron's strike with a sharp crack that sent shockwaves down his arm. The impact was brutal, nearly knocking the sword from his grip as he was forced to stumble backward.
At the same moment, Adrius was slammed with a powerful kick to the side. He raised his staff to block the blow but Theron's physical strength was overwhelming. The force of the attack sent Adrius sprawling, his body skidding across the charred ground.
He gasped in pain, struggling to get back on his feet, but his body was betraying him. His Magic reserves is almost gone now, his strength fading.
Lysander gritting his teeth then swung his sword at Theron again, desperate to keep him away. Sparks flew as the blade connecte but Theron deflected the strike with a casual swipe of his hand, as though Lysander's attacks were nothing more than an inconvenience.
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"Is this how it ends?"
He thought of Astoria, of the kingdom they had fought so hard to protect. If they died here there would be no one left to stop Theron. Astoria would fall and the world would follow soon after. The cold hand of despair gripped him as he realized how powerless he was in that moment.
Adrius's thoughts mirrored Lysander's. He had fought for so long but now they had nothing left to give.
"Is this truly the end?"
Theron towering over them and moved toward Adrius with a slow steps. His expression was one of dark amusement as he bent down and picked up Adrius's fallen sword. He twirled it in his hand before pointing the blade directly at the Archmage's heart.
"I'm done playing with you," Theron said. "Now it's time for the final task, destroying Astoria, and then the rest of your pathetic world."
He raised the sword high, ready to drive it through Adrius's chest. Adrius glaring at him, bracing for the fatal blow.
But just as the sword began to descend a sudden eerie sensation washed over Theron. His grin faltered and his head snapped up, eyes narrowing in suspicion. An ominous feeling crawled up his spine. It was a warning of something powerful and deadly approaching at incredible speed.
Theron instinctively looked up at the sky, his senses screaming danger. Through the clouds he saw it. A dark red silhouette hurtling toward him with terrifying speed, cutting through the sky.
For the first time in the battle, Theron felt true danger.
Without hesitation he abandoned his strike and flew backward, retreating from the unseen force. His eyes remained fixed on the sky. Rather than finishing Adrius, he prioritizing to get away first. This is not something ordinary if it can make his instinct scream like this.
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