"Roar!"
As Kanuck charged, his legs withered into thin stalks. The shockwave stripped the flesh from them instantly, leaving only white bone clicking together at an incredible speed.
A moment later, Kanuck's head and shoulder slammed into Kulle's chest. The legendary Barbarian, known to his people as "Chieftain," did not shatter his body against Kulle's frail-looking form as he once had against Azmodan. He held his skeletal frame together through sheer will.
"I said, it's a fine joke!" Kulle laughed at the skeletal remains of the man before him. The impact hadn't been enough to move him; it had only caused a momentary flicker in his mana.
But as he mocked Kanuck, the phantom of the bull coalesced once more.
Raekor might not represent the entire Bull Tribe. But Kanuck could.
Titles are not earned through self-promotion. Kanuck was called Chieftain because, in the hearts of the Bull Tribe, he was their eternal leader. Even if he only ever followed in Raekor's footsteps, in every field outside of pure combat, he was their pillar.
What Raekor could do, Kanuck could do. What Raekor could not do, Kanuck did better. He treated Raekor and Joryz's children as his own, willing to give everything to his people.
Kanuck was the true vessel of the Bull Tribe's will.
"Mooo!"
The bull phantom stomped the ground again, a hideous piece of armor appearing on its head.
Vile Ward.
A legend forged by Kanuck himself. The bull charged, aimed directly at Kanuck's back. It was a warrior's will, carried out by his very soul.
"In the name of the Bull! By the oath of Raekor's glory!"
Kanuck roared into Kulle's ear, drowning out the mage's senses and blocking his vision with his broken body. Even Kulle's mana began to destabilize under the pressure of such tragic, absolute spirit.
"You bastard! Raekor told you to get lost!"
Kanuck bit down hard on Kulle's nose. Simultaneously, the phantom bull slammed into Kanuck's back, driving him into the mage.
This time, Kulle finally felt the weight of the Bull Tribe's resolve.
"The Bull represents the power that never retreats! Zoltun Kulle, if you seek answers, you should go look for the Stag!"
Raekor seized Kulle's ankle and slammed him into the earth. An armored elbow crashed into the mage's mouth.
"I've wanted to knock those teeth out for a long time."
Raekor grabbed Kanuck's remains and tossed him out of the Rift. Then, she drew a jagged polearm from her back.
The Standoff.
A legendary weapon that quintupled the force of a charge. Even Raekor did not use this power lightly.
"By the way, you were right—Joryz didn't forge The Standoff. But The Standoff chose Joryz. That... is Fate."
She spoke as if providing an answer to a puzzle. Though she cared about her earlier loss, she was always the most pragmatic of them all.
She drove The Standoff through Kulle's chest, pinning the ancient soul to the ground alongside the Fleshrender.
"You shouldn't have appeared. Wouldn't it have been better to stay vanished in some corner of the past, Zoltun Kulle?" Raekor's voice held a hint of desolation.
"Is this Fate's answer?" Kulle asked, still smiling. He felt as if he were on the verge of hearing the truth.
"Fate can still be changed... as long as it remains unspoken."
Raekor gave him a long, deep look. She would say no more. The things she saw could not be uttered; even a subtle hint could bring unknown consequences. Those who believe in Fate become its toys. Those who know Fate become its victims.
Raekor would bear this burden alone, just as Volrusk had.
"Hahaha! It seems I succeeded!" Kulle's eyes flashed with light. Looking at the two legendary weapons piercing his chest, he closed his eyes and vanished. He had chosen to withdraw.
"Bul-Kathos... can you find what you're looking for here?" Raekor murmured, her body flickering out of sight.
She would be the last to leave this place, after Bul-Kathos. She had to ensure the recruits and their new friends made it out safely.
"Ancestor Orek."
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