The flames roared behind Vorthar like a living thing.
He stood at the edge of the inferno, his wings folded, his scarred face twisted into a smile. The firelight danced across his armor, casting long shadows across the charred earth. His eyes were cold, patient, hungry.
Reyes gripped her sword. The soldiers on the wall stared, their weapons raised, their faces pale. The fire crackled. The wind howled. The silence stretched.
Vorthar tilted his head. "Well, Commander? Are you going to come down here, or do I have to come up there?"
She didn't answer.
She touched her comm. "Get Aegis ready. Now."
A pause. Then: "Commander, Aegis isn't fully calibrated—"
"I don't care. Get it ready."
Another pause. Then: "Understood."
She cut the comm and looked down at Vorthar.
"Don't go anywhere," she said.
She jumped.
She landed on the charred earth, her boots crunching against the blackened ground. The heat was immense, pressing against her armor, her skin, her lungs. The flames roared around her, but she didn't flinch.
She raised her sword.
Mana gathered around the blade—faint at first, then brighter, more intense. The light pulsed in rhythm with her heartbeat, casting pale shadows across the burning plain. The energy swirled, condensed, hungered. She could feel it burning through her, draining her reserves, but she didn't stop. She couldn't stop.
Vorthar watched her, his smile widening.
"Impressive," he said. "You've been hiding that."
"I've been saving it."
"For me?"
"For the right moment."
She met his eyes. "And this is it."
She swung.
The slash tore through the air like a blade of light.
It carved a crescent of pure energy across the burning plain, the flames parting before it like water before a stone. Vorthar's eyes widened—just for a moment—as he raised his claws to block.
The impact was tremendous.
The slash struck his guard, sending him skidding backward, his boots carving trenches in the charred earth. The force of it threw up a wall of ash and debris, obscuring him from view.
Reyes was already moving.
She closed the distance in a heartbeat, her sword raised, her eyes blazing. The mana around her blade had dimmed, but it was still there, still hungry, still waiting.
Vorthar emerged from the ash, his claws still raised, his smile gone.
She struck.
Blade against claw. Fire against fire. The ground beneath them cracked, the flames roaring higher.
She was fast, precise, experienced. Her blade found gaps in his guard, openings that would have killed lesser demons. She drew ichor from his arm, his side, his shoulder. Each wound was shallow, but they added up, slowing him down, wearing him out.
But he was faster.
His claws raked across her armor, gouging deep furrows in the metal. She felt the impact through her chest, her ribs, her lungs. She staggered, recovered, struck back. He blocked, twisted, and drove his knee into her stomach.
She doubled over, gasping.
"I expected more," Vorthar said, his voice cold. "You're the commander of this stronghold. You're supposed to be the best."
She straightened, her sword still raised. "I am the best."
"You're dying."
"Then I'll die fighting."
The battle continued.
She attacked. He countered. She pressed. He held. She was relentless, her sword flashing, her voice cutting through the noise. She landed blow after blow, drawing ichor, cracking his armor. But he was still standing. Still fighting. Still winning.
She could feel herself tiring. Her arms were heavy. Her breath was ragged. The mana around her blade was fading, flickering, dying.
"You're tiring," he observed.
"So are you."
"Am I?"
He struck—fast, brutal, inevitable. His claws raked across her chest plate, gouging deep furrows. She staggered, recovered, struck back. He caught her blade, twisted, and disarmed her.
Her sword clattered to the ground.
He stood over her, his claws raised, his eyes cold.
"Any last words?"
Her comm crackled.
"Commander, Aegis is online. Target locked. Awaiting your order."
She met his eyes. "Aegis is ready."
Vorthar's eyes narrowed. "What?"
Reyes smiled. "Fire."
The sky above them split open.