Baran fought like a cornered beast.
His greatsword swung in desperate arcs, its edge crackling with the last remnants of his power. His body was a ruin, his armor shattered, his chest still smoking from the wound Arthur had dealt him, his arm barely regenerated. Blood poured from a dozen wounds, each one a testament to the battle he had already fought and lost.
But he was still standing.
Bellion moved through his attacks, his massive form deflecting the greatsword's blows, his counters driving Baran back step by step. He was a being who had fought for centuries for Ashborn, who knew that this was just another battle in an endless war of the Monarchs.
Beru attacked from the shadows, his claws appearing from nowhere, slicing at Baran's legs, his back, his throat. The Demon Monarch spun, his sword catching one of Beru's strikes, but the insectoid shadow was already gone, already moving, already striking from another angle.
"Hold still, Demon." Beru hissed, his voice a whisper of death. "It will be over soon."
Baran snarled. "I am a Monarch you damned insect! A child of Querehsha should know its place!"
Bellion's fist connected with his face.
"If I fall to his soldiers than I..."
And Beru's claws struck his shoulder.
"...DAMN YOU INSECT!"
Lightning erupted from Baran's mouth a desperate blast that sent Bellion stumbling backward. But Beru was already behind him, his claws sinking into Baran's shoulder, tearing through armor and flesh and bone.
The Demon Monarch screamed.
He spun, his greatsword coming around in a wild arc that caught Beru across the chest. The shadow was thrown backward, the blow was strong, but his body was already beginning to regenerate.
Baran's eyes blazed.
"You think you can kill me?!" His voice rose to a roar. "I will extinguish you! I will send you to nothingness so he can't ever use you again!"
He raised his hand.
Dark energy gathered around his palm a sphere of pure annihilation. It grew, expanded, its edges crackling with the power to unmake shadows, to destroy souls, to send beings into an eternity of non-existence.
"You will cease to exist!" Baran screamed. "Because I want it so!"
Bellion moved.
His massive hand closed around Baran's wrist, squeezing. The Demon Monarch's concentration shattered, the sphere of annihilation dissipating into nothing.
"You talk too much," Bellion said flatly.
Baran's eyes widened.
Bellion's other hand rose, and then descended with his sword.
Crack.
Baran's head separated from his body, tumbling through the air, its eyes still wide with shock. His body stood for a moment, a grotesque puppet without a head, and then collapsed, crashing to the ground in a heap of broken armor and cooling blood.
Bellion straightened.
His hand was still raised, his expression unchanged.
The head rolled across the battlefield.
Beru appeared beside Bellion, his form fully regenerated, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. He bent down, grabbing Baran's severed head by one of its horns, and rose into the sky.
He flew toward Arthur.
Arthur's eyes were fixed on the horizon of the Dimensional Gap. In the distance, the clash of magic and ice could still be heard, Raven and Galatea were still engaged with Sillad.
Beru descended from the sky, Baran's head held aloft like a trophy. He landed in front of Arthur, kneeling, his eyes burning with triumph.
"My liege," he said, his voice carrying across the battlefield. "The pretender monarch of the demonic scum is dead."
He presented the head.
Baran's face was frozen in its final expression, a mixture of rage and disbelief, defiance and the dawning horror of his own demise.
Arthur looked at it.
His expression didn't change.
"Good work, both of you." he said. "We are done here." He glanced toward the distant battle where Raven and Galatea fought Sillad. "Raven and Galatea have already managed to deal with Sillad, time to send him on his way to join the others."
Beru's smile widened. "Then the three pretenders have fallen." His voice was almost reverent. "As expected of you my liege!"
Arthur's eyes swept across the battlefield.
The Shadow Legion was still engaged with the monarchs' armies, but without their leaders. The shadows were already beginning to overwhelm them.
"I'll call the army back, claim the dead." Arthur said. "We're done here."
Bellion appeared beside them, his massive form casting a long shadow across the battlefield. He knelt.
"As you command, my King."
Arthur disappeared then appeared in a swirl of shadows, his form materializing at the edge of the frozen battlefield where Raven and Galatea had cornered Sillad. The ground here was a patchwork of shattered ice, a testament to the battle that had raged between mage and monarch.
Sillad body was hunched, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his ice constructs shattered around him, his power all but spent. He had tried to escape, multiple times but each attempt had been met with Raven's unyielding magic, with Galatea's relentless pursuit.
Raven stood across from him, her white form still gleaming, but her breathing was labored, her eyes tired. The moment she saw Arthur, something in her expression shifted, relief, satisfaction.
She straightened. "He tried to escape several times already," she said, "But I stopped him."
Arthur walked toward them, his shadow armor still smoking from his own battle, his eyes glowing.
"That's my girl." His voice was warm and genuine. "I knew he was no match for you."
Sillad's head lifted. His eyes, once cold, and filled with pride, were now wild, desperate.
"Fool," he wheezed, his voice a rasp of fading strength. "You are a fool, Monarch of Shadows."
Arthur stopped a few meters away.
His spear materialized in his hand, a crackling spear of violet lightning.
"Says the Monarch," Arthur said, his voice flat, "who failed twice to kill me."
Sillad's jaw tightened.
"No matter who you ally yourself with," Arthur continued, "you can't kill me. And you know that." He took a step closer. "This was a suicide quest from you. Legia proved to be quite troublesome, but alas, I survived once again. Baran and Legia are both dead, alongside the others from your previous failed attempt."
Sillad's eyes widened.
"That leaves you," Arthur said, "and the Dragon Monarch. The last remaining Monarchs."
Sillad's voice was a snarl, barely human. "He will kill you... Be sure of that." His eyes blazed with defiance. "And you just gave the Rulers an advantage by killing us... You traitor, this means they have won."
Arthur's expression didn't change.
"I don't care about the Rulers, or this petty war." he said. "Or you, or the Dragon Monarch." His eyes glowed brighter. "You threatened my world and my people, that's how you confirmed your death."
Sillad's laugh was a broken, desperate sound. "The Rulers will never let you live. They fear you as much as they fear the Dragon. And for that..." His eyes found Arthur's. "They will hunt you the moment they see an opportunity to do so."
Arthur's spear rose and his eyes blazed violet.
"Then they will die as well."
He thrust.
The spear pierced Sillad's heart a clean, precise strike that drove through flesh and bone. Violet lightning erupted from the wound, crackling across the Frost Monarch's body, consuming him from within.
Sillad's eyes went wide, his mouth opened, but no sound came out.
And then he was gone.
His body dissolved into nothing, into the void from which all things came and to which all things returned.
Arthur withdrew his spear.
Raven's white form faded, the power receding, her clothes returning to their usual dark colors. She swayed on her feet, exhaustion washing over her in waves.
She looked at Arthur.
And saw something that made her breath catch, something she hadn't seen in a long time.
Arthur fell to one knee.
His spear dissolved into shadows. His hand pressed against the ground, supporting his weight. His breathing, usually controlled, came in ragged gasps.
Raven moved to him, her hand finding his shoulder.
"Arthur! Are you alright?" She asked, her voice filled with genuine concern.
Arthur's head lifted. His eyes still glowing, met hers.
"I'm fine," he said. "We should return home. This will be good news for Bruce, at least."
He pushed himself to his feet.
Raven's hand remained on his shoulder.
"You're exhausted," she said softly.
Arthur's smile was small, tired. "So are you."
Raven's hand found his.
"Let's go home then."
"But first, I've got one last thing to do here." Arthur said.
/-\
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