The gigantic airship gliding slowly across the sky settled over the city like a dark prophecy. People stood frozen in the streets, in attics, and behind windows; no one even dared to breathe. The shadow covering the city's stone roads seemed to swallow the sun whole. Everyone watched the two figures clashing in the middle of the square: King Artheon, clad in the ancestral armor of his lineage, and the Duke of Iron, maddened by purple magic and no longer resembling a human being.
The Duke's armor pulsed like a living organism with purple sparks, sealed by the spells of Catherine and Katherina. With every breath, a sinister hum rose from within the steel shell. His eyes had turned completely purple; the iris had vanished. The energy swirling in them revealed that he had long transcended the limits of a human body.
The King drew a heavy breath. Gripping his sword with both hands, he knew the being standing before him was no longer the Duke he once knew. This creature was something reborn—an amalgamation of steel and sorcery. A god of destruction. A catastrophe.
The Duke advanced with heavy steps, each one making the stones tremble.
"King Artheon," he said, his voice echoing from within the armor, "the power to bear these lands belongs only to me now. Your era ended long ago."
The King gritted his teeth.
"Being a king requires not power, but sacrifice. I am the shield of this people until their final breath."
The Duke let out a harsh, metallic laugh.
"I made my sacrifice long ago. I buried my soul in the metal and surrendered my body to the magic. You are still flesh. You are still weak."
Raising his arm suddenly, he commanded the metal scattered around the city—broken armor pieces, spears, shattered iron—from rooftops and streets alike. They rose into the air as if grabbed by invisible hands bound to his will.
The King stepped back in shock.
"You… you can control metal…"
The Duke's eyes blazed like purple fire.
"Everything is now a part of my will."
The suspended metal pieces shot toward the King like arrows. He raised his shield and deflected many, but several pierced through, embedding into his shoulder and ribs. His wrist buckled, and his sword slipped.
"You're slowing down, Artheon," the Duke taunted. "Is this the glory of the royal lineage?"
Channeling magic into his sword, the King lunged forward and sent a force wave that pushed the Duke back a few steps. But the purple glow in the Duke's armor surged again, restoring him instantly.
"I feel no pain," he hissed. "You cannot stop me."
A massive roar erupted from the sky. The lower hatches of the airship opened, and Sabrina's enchanted soldiers—metal-bodied, soulless, purple-eyed war machines—descended like falling stars. The people screamed; some fled, some froze in terror.
"You will not stain this city with blood!" the King shouted.
"This city," the Duke replied, "will be the birthplace of the new order."
As the soldiers lined up behind the Duke, the King's exhaustion deepened. His armor was shattered. His limbs were heavy. The Duke leaped and struck the King's chest with a crushing blow. The King slammed into a stone wall; a purple burn mark spread across his chest.
Struggling to stand, he clasped his sword and knelt.
"What are you doing?" the Duke demanded cautiously.
The King whispered in the ancient tongue:
"Great Petro… protector of the kingdom… spirit of my ancestors… hear my voice. The last bearer of your blood calls for aid. Fight for these lands once more."
The ground trembled. Cracks split the earth. A cold wind swept the square. A luminous silhouette rose behind the King, taking the form of a colossal armored warrior—the spectral King Petro.
The Duke staggered back.
"A spirit summoning… impossible!"
Petro's voice thundered:
"Duke of Iron… you have bloodied my people. You betrayed the kingdom born of me. Now you will answer for your sins."
"The fight is not with me," the King whispered, "but with Petro."
Petro lunged. His sword glowed brilliantly, leaving white streaks with each swing. The first strike hammered into the Duke's chest, sending him flying and cracking his armor. Smoke seeped through. For the first time, fear flickered in the Duke's eyes.
"I… I was damaged?"
"Death does not weaken me," Petro declared. "You are a slave to magic."
The Duke attacked, but every blow passed through Petro's spiritual form. Enraged, he hurled metal shards at the spirit, all of which sliced through harmlessly.
Petro slashed the Duke's shoulder. Blood dripped from the armor.
"My blood…? No… this should not be!"
As Petro prepared the final strike, Sabrina shouted from the airship:
"Duke! I am releasing Katherina's magic!"
The machine roared. The purple core exploded, sending all its power into the Duke. White light engulfed his armor, then erupted into a sea of purple.
The Duke screamed—this time in triumph.
His energy doubled. His armor swelled. The metal rippled like living flesh.
The Duke had become something divine: the Lord of Divine Steel.
Even Petro hesitated.
"This is no longer the Duke…"
"I am the Steel of the Gods!" the Duke roared.
He struck Petro with a single blow. Petro's spirit flickered. Another strike shattered the phantom entirely. The spirit dispersed into the sky like dust.
"No…" the King whispered.
The Duke turned toward him.
"Now it is your turn, Artheon."
The King rose, trembling. His sword shook in his hand. The Duke approached slowly, each step cracking the stone.
"Today," he said, "is the last day of the kingdom."
He raised his sword. Purple light flooded the square.
And then—
A ripple of shadow opened in the sky's darkness.
The metal storm froze midair. A familiar, ancient aura spread across the city. Soldiers, mages, and even the King recognized it.
A whisper traveled through the battered streets:
"Shadow…"
As the shadow stepped onto the ground, the lights dimmed. Elryia appeared behind him, her snow-white hair flowing, her expression resolute.
Shadow walked forward, eyes fixed on the Duke's towering form.
"Duke of Iron… So this is the truth beneath your mask."
The Duke's metallic laugh echoed.
"It is good that you returned, Shadow. I wanted to see your face twisted with pain as I destroyed this kingdom."
Shadow smiled—a cold, slight smile.
"You overestimate your entertainment value."
Elryia raised her hands, preparing a defensive spell.
"We must hurry. The King has lost too much strength."
The King breathed in relief.
"You… you have returned."
Shadow shrugged.
"We are not the type to wander while the kingdom falls on our heads."
"Enough!" the Duke roared.
"You all meet your end today!"
Broken swords, spear tips, iron shards—everything lifted back into the air, spiraling toward the Duke as a metallic cyclone.
"This is not just magic anymore," Elryia whispered. "He is becoming chaos itself…"
"I will deal with the Duke," Shadow said calmly. "Protect the King."
Elryia nodded and formed a barrier around Artheon.
The Duke hurled the cyclone toward Shadow.
Shadow closed his eyes. Darkness fell like a curtain.
And he vanished.
The cyclone shattered against an unseen wall.
The Duke stumbled.
"What… is this?!"
Shadow's voice echoed from everywhere.
"If you are the master of metal, I am the lord of the dark."
He appeared behind the Duke and struck the armor's shoulder. Sparks flew. The armor cracked but did not break.
"Elryia!" Shadow called, retreating. "This armor isn't forged with ordinary magic!"
"Katherina's spell and Sabrina's device must be feeding it," Elryia answered. "The energy is endless!"
The Duke kneeled, absorbing more energy. His body shone purely purple.
"I am no longer the Duke of Iron," he declared.
"I am the Hunter of Divine Destruction!"
He rose into the sky. The metal storm revolved around him like a living vortex. Even Petro's fading echo recoiled.
"This is worse than I expected," Shadow murmured.
"Shadow… what is your plan?" Elryia asked.
"A plan?" he said, raising his sword as shadows danced around him.
"To win."
Elryia smiled.
"That never changes."
The King stood with his last strength.
"You two… are the kingdom's final hope. Stop him."
Shadow and Elryia bowed their heads.
The Duke descended like lightning.
The streets fell silent.
Shadow summoned the darkness.
Elryia summoned the light.
And together, they hurled themselves into the heart of the screaming metallic storm.
Chapter 21 – THE END