The battlefield outside the gates of Lucindor had already been scarred by magic and steel.
Dust drifted slowly across the ground. Craters from shattered spells and sword strikes littered the once-green field. The air smelled of smoke and burned earth.
In the middle of that chaos stood two men.
Sol.
And Eryndor.
Their eyes met across the broken battlefield.
For a moment, the entire war seemed to pause.
The soldiers fighting Agnes slowed, their attention pulled toward the confrontation that truly mattered. Even the wind itself seemed to hesitate, as if aware that what was about to unfold would decide the fate of the entire conflict.
The tension between the two warriors crackled like lightning.
Eryndor's grip tightened around his sword.
His eyes burned with fury.
"Greedy son of a bitch," he spat, his voice sharp with anger.
Sol didn't reply.
He didn't argue.
He didn't defend himself.
Instead, he simply lifted his weapon.
Dark energy began to coil around his body like living smoke, the corrupted power of the orb flowing smoothly through him.
Then he vanished.
A sonic crack split the air as Sol charged forward with blinding speed.
His weapon aimed directly for Eryndor's throat.
CLANG!
Steel exploded against steel.
Eryndor had already moved.
Their blades locked together as sparks erupted between them.
The battle had begun.
Sol attacked again instantly.
His strikes were brutal, fast, and relentless. Every swing carried crushing power behind it, the orb amplifying his strength beyond human limits.
Eryndor parried the first strike.
Then the second.
Then the third.
Each impact rattled his arms.
"You're stronger," Eryndor admitted through clenched teeth.
Sol smirked.
"You noticed?"
He twisted his blade violently, forcing Eryndor backward several steps.
The ground cracked beneath their feet.
Sol swung again, this time aiming to split Eryndor in half.
Eryndor dodged sideways at the last moment.
The attack slammed into the earth, carving a massive trench through the battlefield.
Dust exploded into the air.
Sol didn't stop.
He followed with another strike, and another, pushing Eryndor back step by step.
The difference in power was obvious.
Sol's strikes were heavier.
Faster.
More devastating.
Eryndor's body still carried the scars from his previous battle. His strength hadn't fully returned yet.
Brute force alone wouldn't win this fight.
But Eryndor wasn't relying on brute force.
He was thinking.
Every movement Sol made.
Every shift in his stance.
Every tiny change in the flow of his energy.
Eryndor studied it all.
Sol lunged again.
Eryndor ducked beneath the strike and countered instantly, slashing across Sol's body.
The blade barely scratched him.
Sol laughed.
"That's it?"
Eryndor smirked slightly.
"Just testing something."
Sol's grin faded.
Then he attacked harder.
Across the battlefield, the war against Agnes raged on.
Art Ryder moved like a commander born for battle.
His sword flashed repeatedly as he directed the elite soldiers around him.
"Left flank, push forward!" he shouted.
A group of soldiers surged toward Agnes, striking in perfect coordination.
The witch snarled.
Dark magic erupted from her hands, blasting several soldiers backward.
But Art intercepted the next wave of magic.
His blade glowed as he deflected the attack again.
"Keep pressure on her!" Art commanded.
The soldiers obeyed instantly.
They attacked from every direction.
Swords.
Spears.
Magic.
The constant barrage forced Agnes backward.
She tried to raise her hand to cast a larger spell.
But a soldier's blade struck her arm.
Another strike followed.
Then another.
Her spell collapsed.
Agnes growled in frustration.
"I've underestimated you boy," she said coldly.
Art pointed his sword directly at her.
"It only takes unity," he replied, "to destroy you."
Her eyes flared with rage.
Meanwhile, Sol and Eryndor's battle escalated violently.
Sol slammed his weapon down with enormous force.
Eryndor blocked.
The impact blasted both of them apart.
Sol raised his hand.
Dark energy gathered rapidly.
"Let's see how well you dodge this."
A massive beam of corrupted power exploded toward Eryndor.
Eryndor leapt sideways just in time.
The blast ripped through the battlefield behind him, obliterating everything in its path.
Before he could recover—
Another blast came.
Then another.
Sol fired attack after attack, forcing Eryndor farther away from the main battlefield.
The sky above them slowly began to darken.
The sun was lowering toward the horizon.
But the fight only grew more violent.
Eryndor rolled across the ground to avoid another blast.
He stood again, breathing heavily.
"You're enjoying this too much," he said.
Sol tilted his head.
"Of course."
Dark energy surged around him again.
"For the first time in my life," he continued, "I'm not holding back."
He charged again.
Their blades collided in a violent exchange.
Clang.
Clang.
Clang.
Their movements blurred as they traded dozens of strikes within seconds.
Eryndor parried one attack, stepped aside from another, and finally countered with a precise slash aimed for Sol's shoulder.
Sol blocked it.
Then kicked Eryndor across the chest.
The impact sent him flying through the air.
He crashed into the ground hard.
Sol raised his hand again.
A massive sphere of dark energy formed above him.
"Let's end this."
He hurled the blast.
The explosion lit the battlefield like a second sun.
Elsewhere, Agnes was losing control of her fight.
The soldiers' relentless attacks left her barely any opportunity to cast spells.
Art Ryder pressed forward with unstoppable determination.
His sword struck her barrier repeatedly.
Finally—
CRACK.
Her magical defense shattered.
A soldier stabbed forward, forcing her backward.
Another strike cut across her shoulder.
Agnes snarled.
"Sol!" she shouted.
"Help me!"
In an instant—
Sol appeared beside her.
The battlefield froze.
Everyone expected him to unleash devastating magic on the soldiers.
Instead…
Sol slowly turned toward Agnes.
She frowned.
"About time you—"
Her words stopped.
Sol's fist drove straight through her chest.
A sickening silence fell across the battlefield.
Blood spilled from the wound as Agnes stared down in disbelief.
Shock rippled across the soldiers.
Even Art Ryder froze.
Agnes coughed weakly.
"You…"
Sol pulled his hand free.
"You really thought I was your ally?"
Agnes staggered backward.
The truth hit her instantly.
Sol had never been loyal.
He had only wanted control of the orb.
And now that he had it…
She was useless.
"I… couldn't believe…" she whispered weakly.
"…my own plans could backfire so easily."
She tried to gather magic to heal herself.
But a shadow appeared behind her.
Eryndor.
Blood covered his armor.
His breathing was ragged.
But his eyes burned with pure fury.
Agnes turned slowly.
Too late.
Eryndor's blade flashed.
The strike cut deep across her body.
She screamed.
Eryndor struck again.
And again.
And again.
Each slash was merciless.
"YOU'RE NOTHING!" Eryndor roared.
His blade tore through her defenses.
"YOUR EXISTENCE IS JUST TRASH!"
Agnes tried to cast one final spell.
But Eryndor's blade struck again.
The final blow ended it.
The Witch of Fall collapsed onto the battlefield.
Silence fell.
Then something strange happened.
Across the battlefield…
The corrupted aura that had plagued the land began to fade.
The cursed virus infecting the people vanished instantly.
Far away, Ariana's mind cleared.
She was free.
The soldiers burned Agnes's remains, ensuring the witch's dark magic would never rise again.
Night had fully fallen.
The battlefield was lit only by fire and moonlight.
Eryndor collapsed onto the ground, exhausted.
A tired smile appeared on his face.
Sol sat nearby, resting quietly.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
Finally…
Sol broke the silence.
"I… I'm sorry for everything that happened."
Eryndor glanced at him.
Then chuckled weakly.
"You helped end this," he said.
"That counts for something."
For the first time since the battle began…
Peace returned to the battlefield.
Days later…
The King of Lucindor held a grand ceremony.
The city gathered to honor the heroes who had protected them.
Eryndor.
Art Ryder.
And the soldiers who had fought bravely.
Sol stood quietly at the edge of the crowd, watching the celebration.
A faint smile rested on his face.
He knew the truth.
He didn't deserve the praise.
His choices had been selfish.
Driven by power.
Not heroism.
Meanwhile, Eryndor stood proudly among the honored warriors.
His reputation had reached its peak.
From that day forward…
He carried a new title.
The strongest human alive.
And with the fall of Agnes Monvois—
The Witch of Fall had finally fallen.