The Climax of the Duel and the Fall of Kael'Var
The battle in the Mythra valley reached its climax. Lesendra, the guardian deity, and Kael'Var exchanged deadly strikes, creating a swirling storm of red-gold light, blue lightning, and dark shadows that shook the earth. Lightning streaked across the sky, dust and rocks flew, as if Mythra itself were watching the clash of these three great forces.
Kael'Var laughed loudly, swinging his black spear to unleash a wave of dark energy that cracked the ground, forcing Lesendra and the guardian deity to fall back. "You're nothing but foam on the ocean of my power! This Ruby will be mine!"
Lesendra, gasping for breath, gripped his sword, his body trembling, but his eyes still burned with determination. "I won't… let you take it…"
But in the midst of the fierce battle, the guardian deity's eyes flared with blue-silver light, staring sharply at Kael'Var. Slowly, he moved his spear, tracing ancient patterns in the air, creating a lightning design that pierced through Kael'Var's dark wave, breaking his defenses.
"Kael'Var… you've played with a power that was never yours for far too long," the guardian deity's voice echoed, deep and slicing through the air. "Your power… comes from a Ruby you never understood. You're just a thief of strength with no heart."
Kael'Var's eyes widened in shock. "What…?!"
In a single swift move, the guardian's lightning spear pierced Kael'Var's chest, unleashing blue-silver light that ignited the entire valley, shattering his dark weapon, and splitting his body with pure energy. Kael'Var let out a final scream, his dark aura evaporating into a fading black mist, before his body crumbled into dust carried by the wind.
Silence descended over the valley. Only Lesendra and the guardian deity remained, staring at each other with eyes that shone not as enemies, but as two powers that had come to a mutual understanding.
Lesendra stood with heavy breaths, his sword stabbed into the ground, his hands trembling. "Why… did you kill him?"
The guardian deity gazed at him, his voice calm yet sharp. "Because he was too arrogant. He forgot that power isn't meant to be stolen, but to be guarded. Power taken without understanding will only destroy its wielder. And I… will not let this power fall into the wrong hands."
Lesendra lowered his head, his breathing slowly steadying. "So… are you going to kill me too?"
The guardian deity held his spear steady, but his eyes now glowed with deep blue light. "I will not kill you, little human. But I will test you. Because only a sincere heart… is worthy to carry the fourth Ruby."
A faint glow began to surround the temple in the distance, signaling the start of a new battle—not one of strength, but of meaning and heart.
Silence consumed the valley of Mythra after Kael'Var crumbled to dust, leaving only Lesendra and the guardian deity standing amidst the swirling blue and red-gold energy. Faint lightning streaked across the sky, casting their shadows over the fractured earth.
The guardian held his crystal spear, his silver-blue eyes glowing—not just sharp, but filled with judgment. "You are strong, little human. But strength alone is not enough. The right heart… must control the power, not be controlled by it."
Lesendra gasped, looking at his obsidian diamond sword now glowing red-gold-blue-green, and his golden hand trembling with warmth. His breath was heavy, but his red-gold eyes shone with unyielding resolve.
"I understand now," Lesendra murmured, his voice hoarse but brimming with conviction. "Power… is not a right to rule. Power… is a trust. Something to be protected, not stolen. I am not a god. I'm just a human who happens to carry a shard of their power. And I refuse to become a blind ruler… like them."
For a moment, he closed his eyes, letting the warm light of his sword and golden hand merge with his pulse. Images of his foster parents, Seira calling out to him, and the faces of Mythra's oppressed flashed through his mind.
"I… don't want to become like Kael'Var, who only craved power," he continued, opening eyes now glowing with a warm, steadfast light. "I will fight. Not to win… but to prove that true strength is strength that stays loyal to the heart."
The guardian gazed at him for a long moment, then raised his spear. "Then… let us see. Show me your heart is strong enough to carry this Ruby."
The duel began. Lesendra leapt forward, slashing his sword, sending out waves of red-gold merging with green-blue light, creating a surge of energy that split the ground. The guardian parried with his spear, creating lightning that danced in the air.
This duel was unlike any before. It was not just about raw power, but the rhythm of the heart and will. Their attacks and parries moved like a dance between light and shadow. Every move from Lesendra radiated warmth, not just rage. Every swing of the guardian's spear was not just an attack, but a test of Lesendra's heart.
At last, they stood, both breathless, in the midst of the shattered field, sword and spear crossing, their eyes meeting—not as enemies, but as two beings who understood the meaning of true strength.
The guardian inhaled deeply, his voice calm. "You have proven your heart. This Ruby… is yours."
A flash of silver-blue light flowed from his body, merging into Lesendra's sword, which now glowed with an even deeper red-gold-blue light, signifying the fourth Ruby had been absorbed. Lesendra's golden hand pulsed with a gentle glow, not just as a symbol of strength, but as a sign of a heart unwilling to bow to the arrogance of power.
Lesendra bowed his head, his voice deep. "Thank you. I will protect this power… not for myself, but for all who long to live free."
Outside the valley, Seira and Eryvan, waiting with held breath, saw the warm light radiating from the temple, signaling that Lesendra had won—not just the battle, but also his own heart.
The silver-blue light shining from within the Temple of Light slowly faded, signaling the battle had come to an end. Lesendra stepped out of the temple with steady strides, his obsidian diamond sword now glowing with a deeper red-gold-blue hue, fused with the power of the fourth Ruby. His golden hand radiated a gentle warmth, not just as a symbol of strength, but as a mark of the resolve forged through trials.
Outside the temple, Seira and Eryvan waited, their eyes reflecting a mix of relief and awe. Seira ran up to him, holding back tears. "You did it...," she whispered, her voice hoarse.
Lesendra nodded, gazing at them with eyes that gleamed with newfound determination. "We did it. But this is only the beginning."
Eryvan studied him intently, his eyes glinting. "What do we do next?"
Lesendra tightened his grip on the sword hilt, looking up at the sky of Mythra, now brightening with the light of dawn. "We're returning to the base. We're going to design a bigger plan. Because with this power, we can unite all forces of the rebellion and face the Dark Throne with true strength—not just weapons, but hearts that won't yield."
Their journey back to the base felt lighter, though Lesendra often glanced at his golden hand with a thoughtful look. In his mind echoed the guardian deity's words: "Power without a heart's guidance will destroy its wielder."
Upon arriving at the rebel headquarters, the atmosphere was tense yet full of hope. Torches flickered along stone walls, soldiers gathered, weapons were checked, and strategies were discussed. Lesendra stood in the center of the main hall, gazing at the map of Mythra now marked with new signs and notes.
"We're going to draft a grand plan," he said, his voice calm yet firm. "We'll unite all forces of the rebellion. But not to replace the Dark Throne with a new power, rather to dismantle the illusion of control that binds this world. True power is not about occupying a throne, but about freeing the hearts and minds of all beings in Mythra."
Seira stood by his side, her eyes shining. "And I'll stand with you. Until the end."
Eryvan nodded, his voice deep. "So will I. Because the strength you carry isn't just yours, but belongs to all who wish to live free."
In the heart of the headquarters, Lesendra raised his sword high, his golden hand glowing warmly as it danced in the air, uniting everyone's spirit. Murmurs of cheers began to ripple through the gathering, followed by the rising roar of resolve from the rebels rallying together.
Under the sky of Mythra, glowing faintly red and pierced by the first light of dawn, Lesendra, Seira, Eryvan, and the entire rebellion force braced to embark on a new chapter—one not for power, but to free the hearts and souls of Mythra from the chains of the Dark Throne.