Zahken released a piercing, agonized scream, frantically scrambling backward across the mud as he clutched his ruined, bleeding socket.
"Brother, please! Please do it!" Sartan cried out in absolute despair, fighting his own body to pull the bloody claw back. "I do not wish to kill you as I am!"
"I cannot do this!" Zahken sobbed, his heart physically breaking within his chest. "We fight, but we are brothers. I cannot kill my kin!"
Sartan's massive legs propelled him forward against his will, the remaining claw snapping aggressively at Zahken's throat. Zahken was forced to desperately defend himself, parrying the heavy, corrupted strikes while weeping openly.
"This is the only way, brother!" Sartan pleaded over the deafening clash of their shells. "Kill me and use my remaining essence to open a safe path to Chroyane! Mother will be there. She will help you!"
"No! I will not!" Zahken screamed, twisting away from a lethal thrust.
"You must! Do not let foolish sentiments trap you!" Sartan demanded, his voice cracking with the strain of holding back his own strength. "If I become fully corrupted, then I am completely lost! There will be absolutely no peace for me!"
Zahken shed fresh tears of profound helplessness. He was completely trapped between his deep love for his brother and the horrifying reality of the curse.
"DO IT!!" Sartan roared with the very last ounce of his uncorrupted will.
Zahken let out a guttural, heartbroken cry. He steeled his trembling resolve, deliberately hardening his thick, iridescent green shell to its absolute limit. He abandoned his desperate defense, launching himself forward into a lethally offensive barrage.
The battle raged fiercely between the weeping brothers. Zahken ducked smoothly beneath a wild, corrupted swipe from Sartan's one remaining arm. He drove his hardened foot directly into his brother's blackened chest plate. The petrified shell violently cracked under the immense divine force, sending spiderweb fractures across the dark chitin. Sartan stumbled backward, his movements jerky and entirely out of his own control.
Zahken did not grant him a single moment to recover. He swept his heavy leg low, shattering the joint of Sartan's left hind leg with a sickening crunch. The massive Crab King collapsed heavily onto his side, his ruined joints leaking thick, foul-smelling ichor into the mud.
"Forgive me, Sartan!" Zahken roared through his flowing tears.
He brought his heavy heel down upon his brother's right leg, snapping the thick shell with ruthless efficiency. The corrupted mist hissed violently as it bled from the open wounds. Sartan's body convulsed wildly, attempting to strike out with his last remaining claw.
Zahken caught the incoming appendage with both of his trembling hands. He looked directly into his brother's remaining, uncorrupted eye. He saw only profound gratitude hidden beneath the surface of the physical agony. Twisting his waist, Zahken brutally snapped the heavy arm at the elbow, violently tearing the blackened appendage entirely from its socket.
Sartan collapsed into the mud, completely immobilized but still terribly aware.
Finally, Sartan collapsed into the mud, completely immobilized but still terribly aware. Zahken stood towering over him, his remaining eye burning with untamed grief and rage. With a final, agonizing swing, Zahken cleanly severed Sartan's head from his massive shoulders.
As the heavy head fell, Sartan's features relaxed completely. "Thank you, brother," he whispered, offering one final, peaceful smile before his essence faded.
Zahken dropped to his knees in the blood-soaked mud. He raised his ruined face toward the broken canopy, unleashing a raw, earth-shattering roar of pure, untamed agony. The deafening scream pierced directly into the sky, and for a fleeting, tragic moment, the oppressive grey mist visibly recoiled, losing the absolute darkness of its suffocating gloom.
Zahken then stood abruptly, his massive form trembling violently in the aftermath of the slaughter. He did not allow himself a single moment to properly mourn. Grabbing the heavy, petrified limbs, he dragged the severed pieces of Sartan through the thick mud towards the dark waters of the lake.
He carefully placed each of the broken appendages evenly around the muddy shoreline, forming a wide, physical perimeter. Raising his own hardened arms, he deeply slashed his remaining flesh. He walked the perimeter, deliberately spilling his own divine blood directly upon the shattered remains of his brother.
Without a moment of hesitation, Zahken flew directly over to the exact center of the lake. He completely disregarded the suffocating corruption of the mist swirling aggressively around his suspended form.
Raising his arms toward the broken canopy, he began speaking in a guttural, ancient tongue.
The heavy, severed pieces of Sartan immediately began to levitate above the shoreline. They shone with a blinding light that violently burned away the blackened corruption clinging to their shells. Massive, concussive bursts of pure divine essence erupted outward from the floating limbs.
Zahken shed a single, luminous tear. "Your sacrifice was not in vain, brother," he whispered into the roaring wind.
With each powerful burst of divine essence, the oppressive grey mist violently recoiled. The dark fog was forcefully pushed further and further away, creating a rapidly expanding dome of clear, breathable air around the water.
Eventually, after all the appendages had released their final, brilliant bursts of divine magic, the radiant light began to slowly peter out. The empty, lifeless shells drifted silently through the air, flying gently towards Zahken in the center of the lake.
As Zahken looked around the perimeter, a look of absolute, dawning horror settled upon his ruined face.
He realized the devastating truth of his ritual. He had only been able to remove the mist immediately surrounding the lake itself. The sheer horror of his failure settled heavily upon his exhausted soul. He had been far too hesitant during the battle. His tragic indecision had allowed too much of Sartan's essence to become irreversibly corrupted before the fatal blow was finally struck.
What little uncorrupted magic remained behind was only enough to clear this small, isolated area from the endless fog. The path to Chroyane remained hopelessly buried.
The crushing realization completely broke his ancient spirit. He wept openly, screaming and calling out for Mother Rhoyne into the empty, uncaring sky. His divine strength finally gave out, and his vision faded into absolute blackness.
Losing his consciousness entirely, Zahken plummeted from the air, plunging heavily into the dark, welcoming waters alongside the shattered remains of his beloved brother.