The mansion trembled as Aranya's limbs stretched unnaturally, her dark aura snaking across the room. Mishka steadied herself, braid coiled tightly in her hands, eyes sharp and unwavering.
Aranya sprang forward, launching silken threads like whips aimed directly at Mishka. Without hesitation, Mishka spun, twisting her body to evade, her braid slicing through the air to deflect the attack. Sparks of energy flared where magic collided with silk.
"You're fast," Aranya hissed, her voice a chilling blend of amusement and menace. "But speed alone won't save you."
"I don't need to save myself," Mishka replied, feet steady against the floor. "I need to protect him."
Aranya lunged again, this time aiming a web to pin Mishka's legs. Mishka leapt onto a nearby table, narrowly avoiding the trap, sending shards of wood scattering. The table cracked under her weight, but she remained poised, twisting midair to swing her braid and snag one of Aranya's arms.
Aranya growled, yanking free, silk snapping against the walls. Her eyes glimmered like dark jewels. "Persistent little one. But persistence can be fatal."
Mishka crouched, breathing controlled, anticipating Aranya's next move. She rolled sideways as a flurry of silken spikes flew toward her, the tips glinting with a deadly sheen. She deflected them just in time, feeling the heat of magic brushing past her.
"Every second counts," Mishka murmured, circling her opponent cautiously. "I can't let her touch him."
Aranya's eyes narrowed. She lunged high, then twisted midair, landing behind Mishka with a predatory grace. Mishka pivoted, swinging her braid in a wide arc, catching Aranya's wrist. For a heartbeat, the two froze, energy humming around them.
Aranya smirked, yanking her arm free with a swift motion. "Clever. But cleverness only prolongs the inevitable."
Mishka's jaw tightened. She knew she couldn't match Aranya in sheer strength, but strategy and timing were her allies. With each deflection, each dodge, she felt herself buying precious moments for Yuvaan, keeping the old spider witch distracted.
The room felt alive with tension, the air thick with the scent of magic and the rhythm of their battle. Mishka's braid twirled, snapping with precision, countering every attempt of Aranya's strikes.
"This ends when I say it does," Mishka whispered under her breath, eyes locked on Aranya, determination blazing brighter than fear.
The air on the cursed island trembled with dark energy, the sky a turbulent swirl of shadows. Kalapishachi rose with unnerving grace, her cloak billowing as if alive. Every eye in the vicinity could feel the pulse of her power.
"Step aside, Dad," Kiara said calmly, her eyes locked on the ancient witch.
Vikram nodded, heart heavy but trusting his daughter's strength. He stepped back, giving her space.
With a flick of her fingers, Kalapishachi's command erupted into motion: cursed roots shot from the ground, snaking toward Kiara like living spears, each one writhing with a malevolent will.
Kiara didn't flinch. She leapt into the air, twisting and turning mid-flight, each movement precise and fluid. The roots thrashed, cracking the ground where she had just been, but she landed on her feet with perfect balance, her gown swaying around her like liquid fire.
The roots recoiled slightly, sensing a force greater than expected. Kalapishachi's lips curved into a smile of both irritation and admiration.
Kiara planted her feet firmly, trident birthmark glowing faintly, golden energy radiating outward, a silent promise: she wouldn't yield.
The cursed island quaked under the raw energy of the duel. Kalapishachi's eyes glimmered with dark fire as she levitated massive boulders, sending them hurtling toward Kiara like meteors.
Kiara propelled herself upward, gown swirling around her like liquid gold, her trident birthmark blazing. With a graceful wave of her hands, the rocks shattered midair, shards freezing in suspended defiance. She landed firmly, eyes blazing, the broken fragments orbiting around her like a protective halo.
"Now… it's my turn," Kiara declared, her voice resonating with power and resolve. She thrust her hands forward, propelling the floating rocks toward Kalapishachi.
But the witch was ready. With a sinister laugh, she dissolved into a shadow, slipping past the deadly projectiles, leaving only the echo of her presence.
Kiara froze for a heartbeat, shock flashing across her eyes. Vikram's jaw tightened beside her.
"She… she just became a shadow," Vikram whispered, awe and fear mingling in his voice.
Kiara's hands lowered slightly, steadying herself. "So it begins," she muttered, determination hardening in her gaze. "No more holding back."