The roar rolled again, shaking the walls like thunder that came from the bottom of the earth. Marble tiles cracked, chandeliers swung, dust rained down from the high roofs .
Outside the palace, screams rose. Not just prisoners or guards—thousands of voices, wild and furious. The city itself sounded like it was falling apart.
Kaelen's chest heaved, his fire still burning out of control, the cloaked woman limp in his arms. He staggered back, staring at the emperor who stood calm in the middle of the chaos.
"You feel it, don't you?" the emperor said, his voice smooth, low, like oil over stone. "The city rises. They are burning because of you. A weapon with no leach . You were meant for this."
Kaelen spat blood onto the floor. "I'm not your weapon."
The emperor smiled, sharp and cruel. His hands spread slightly, and the air around him warped. No fire, no steel—just a force like the weight of mountains pressing down. Kaelen's knees almost gave away .
From outside, more roars, louder, closer. Then screams that turned shrill. Shadows moved across the palace windows. Huge shadows.
Dragons.
Kaelen's fire answered without him even trying, flaring so bright it painted the walls gold and red. The soldiers nearby shielded their eyes, stumbling back.
The emperor didn't move. His gaze locked on Kaelen. "Burn them all, boy. Give me the city. Do it, and I'll let the girl live."
Kaelen's fire shook. For a second his chest clenched with fear—fear that part of him wanted it. Wanted to let the flames eat everything. But then he looked at her face, pale against his shoulder, lips still bloody.
"No."
The emperor's smile died.
He flicked his wrist and the air slammed into Kaelen like a hammer. His body smashed against the marble, blood dripping from his mouth. The cloaked woman rolled out of his arms. He reached for her, but the force dragged him back across the floor. His skin tore, his ribs cracked.
"Pathetic," the emperor hissed. "You think fire alone makes you strong? I could crush you before you breathe again."
Kaelen roared, fire bursting out in a wild wave, breaking the invisible grip. He staggered to his feet, blood dripping down his chest, his leg half-dead from the arrow still buried in it. But he stood anyway.
"Come try!"
The emperor moved like shadow, robes snapping. His hand cut the air and Kaelen's fire was shoved aside, ripped open like torn cloth. The man's power wasn't fire—it was raw command of force itself, pulling and crushing.
Kaelen burned hotter, his body screaming with pain. The floor turned molten under his feet. He threw fire with both hands, torrents like rivers. The emperor raised a single palm and split the flames in two, walking straight through them.
Outside, the city thundered. Smoke clouds blotted the sky, and the roar of dragons shook the palace again. One wing smashed into a tower, stone crashing down.
The emperor didn't care. His eyes were only on Kaelen.
"You will kneel," he said, voice echoing with power.
Kaelen staggered, heat burning his bones. His chest heaved, his vision going dark at the edges. He thought he might give in. He thought this might be the end.
Then he heard her voice—faint, broken, but real.
"Kaelen…"
The cloaked woman, half-conscious, her hand twitching on the marble. Her eyes cracked open, finding him through the chaos.
Something snapped inside him again. His fire roared up, not like before, not wild—sharper, deeper. It twisted into something the emperor didn't expect. The flames wrapped Kaelen like armor, like wings. His skin didn't blister. His body held.
He charged.
The clash was brutal. Fire slammed into force, waves against stone cliffs. The marble floor shattered, banners burnt into ash, the whole hall turned to storm. Soldiers scattered, some burned alive, others crushed by falling stone.
Kaelen screamed, pushing every ounce of himself forward. The emperor gritted his teeth, the first crack of strain showing on his face.
Then the ceiling tore open.
One of the dragons struck, claws ripping through the roof. Fire from outside poured in, mixing with Kaelen's flames. The emperor faltered for just a second, his shield of force falling under the chaos.
Kaelen took it. He hurled everything he had, a storm of fire so bright it blinded even himself.
The explosion ripped the hall apart. Walls caved in, pillars cracked, the emperor's figure vanished in the blaze.
Kaelen hit the ground hard, coughing blood, half his body shaking. He couldn't feel his right arm, his leg bleeding worse than before. The cloaked woman was still on the floor, motionless.
"Move… move…" he muttered to himself, dragging her close. His fire burned weaker now, sputtering, but it was enough to cut through fallen stone and broken guards.
He stumbled toward the broken hall, limping, half-carrying her. Behind them, the palace burned. Screams and dragon roars shook the air.
Kaelen glanced back once. Through the smoke, through the fire, he thought he saw a shadow still standing. The emperor.
Alive.
Kaelen's chest froze, but he didn't stop. He pushed forward, through shattered doors, into the night.
The city was chaos. Streets burning, rebels fighting soldiers, dragons tearing through towers. Ash fell like snow.
Kaelen staggered into it, wounded, holding the cloaked woman in his arms. Every step hurt. Every breath felt like knives.
But he was out. He was free.
And behind him, deep in the firelit palace, the Emperor voice sounded over the ruin. Cold. Promising.
"This is not over."