Chapter 8: The Sacrifice of the Sage and the Shattered Peak
The sky above the Forbidden Peaks was no longer a natural thing. It was a swirling vortex of gold and violet, a visual representation of the two primal forces—Light and Void—tearing at the fabric of reality. On the plateau, the two brothers were blurs of motion. Arthur moved with a jagged, predatory speed, leaving trails of black ink in the air, while Andrew flowed like a river of molten silver, his movements defying the weight of gravity.
Their blades met again, and the sound was not a clang of metal, but a scream of energy. The Void-Slayer and the Aurelian Brand locked in a stalemate, sparks of white and purple fire cascading onto the stone.
"You speak of mercy," Arthur spat, his face inches from Andrew's, his crimson eyes burning with a feverish intensity. "But mercy is just a word for the cowards who cannot hold the sword of power! Look at me, Andrew! I have ended wars! I have united the divided! All it cost was a little bit of 'feeling'."
"You haven't ended wars, Arthur! You've just turned the world into a graveyard!" Andrew pushed back, the Angel's Ring on his finger flaring with an intensity that forced Arthur to retreat. "A peace built on fear is just a slow death. I see the Devil behind you. He is eating you from the inside out!"
Arthur threw his head back and laughed, a hollow, terrifying sound. "Then let him feast! If the price of godhood is my soul, then the trade is done!"
Arthur slammed his fist into the ground. Instead of a physical impact, he unleashed the "Tide of the Abyss." The very plateau beneath their feet began to dissolve into a liquid-like shadow. The solid stone became a hungry mouth, trying to pull Andrew into the center of the mountain.
The Master's Final Stand
The Master of the Empyrean, weakened and bleeding from his earlier encounter, watched the battle with a heavy heart. He saw that Andrew was holding back. Despite the celestial power flowing through him, Andrew was still fighting as a brother, not as a Judge. He was hesitant to deliver a lethal blow, and in a fight against the Abyss, hesitation was a death sentence.
Arthur noticed it too. He saw the flicker of doubt in Andrew's golden eyes.
"You're still the same soft boy from the forge," Arthur hissed. He gathered all the dark energy of the surrounding Legion into a single, concentrated point at the tip of his blade. He wasn't aiming for Andrew's heart; he was aiming for the Angel's Ring. If the ring shattered, Andrew would be vaporized by the raw energy of the heavens he was trying to channel.
"DIE IN YOUR LIGHT!" Arthur roared, lunging forward with a strike that moved faster than the speed of sound.
Andrew, caught in the liquid shadows of the floor, couldn't reposition in time. He raised his hand to shield himself, but the Void-Slayer was designed to pierce even the stars.
Suddenly, a white-robed figure blurred between them.
The Master of the Empyrean stood with his arms outstretched. He didn't use a shield; he used his own life force. The Void-Slayer pierced through the Master's chest, the black blade erupting from his back.
The world went silent.
Arthur froze, his hand still on the hilt of his sword. Andrew's eyes widened, the golden light in them trembling.
"Master!" Andrew cried out, the liquid shadows beneath him evaporating from his sudden burst of grief.
The old man turned his head slightly, blood staining his white beard. He looked at Andrew with a peaceful, knowing smile. "The light... does not belong to the mountain, Andrew. It belongs to the world. Do not... let it go out."
With a final, desperate surge of magic, the Master ignited his own soul. He became a Living Nova. The explosion of pure, white energy was so powerful that it threw Arthur across the plateau, shattering his obsidian mask and cracking his black armor.
The Master was gone. Where he stood, only a small, glowing seed of light remained, which drifted toward Andrew and merged with his heart.
The Fury of the Seraph
The death of the Master broke the final seal on Andrew's heart. The grief transformed into a righteous, holy fury. The plateau could no longer contain the energy. Huge chunks of the mountain began to break off, falling into the mists below.
Andrew rose into the air, his wings expanding until they spanned a hundred feet. The white flames of his wings turned a fierce, burning gold.
"Arthur!" Andrew's voice was no longer a whisper; it was the voice of the mountain itself. "You have taken everything. Our mother. Our home. And now, my teacher. There is nothing left to hold back."
Arthur stood up, coughing up black bile. He looked up at the being in the sky and for the first time, he saw not his brother, but his Executioner.
"Come then!" Arthur screamed, summoning every ounce of the Devil's power. He grew in size, his shadows forming a monstrous, demonic silhouette behind him. "Let us see whose god is stronger!"
The two brothers flew toward each other in a final, devastating collision. The entire peak of the Forbidden Mountain exploded. A massive shockwave cleared the clouds for a hundred miles, sending a blinding flash of light that could be seen by the terrified citizens of Jammu.
When the dust settled, the plateau was gone. Only a jagged, smoking ruins remained. Arthur lay in a crater, his sword broken. Andrew hovered above him, his golden blade at Arthur's throat.
But the fight was not over. Deep in the shadows of the crater, something even darker began to stir—the Devil himself was tired of waiting for his champion to win.