The battlefield had collapsed into chaos long ago.
The western courtyard of the Devil King's palace, once a place of black marble and carved pillars, was now a cratered ruin, torn apart by the clash of mana storms. Fire licked through shattered archways; the very air trembled with the pressure of colliding energy.
And at the heart of it—Mia Frostine and Hiro Azell were still standing.
Barely.
Hiro's sword was cracked along its edge, flickering with the faint remnants of his lightning aura. Mia's once-flawless silver armor was scorched black in places, her pale hair matted to her cheeks with blood. They had fought together, their rhythm born of years of training and battles side by side, yet even together, their combined strength was being crushed beneath the overwhelming power of their opponent.
