Even though Zayne had already been stabbed, Vel'Lucranis wasn't done.
With a calculated flick of his wings, he used the momentum to hurl Zayne even farther, slamming him through the air like a broken spear.
Zayne tried to regain control mid-air, his arms flailing, but his body wouldn't respond. Blood trickled from his mouth as his lungs fought to breathe.
The impact had knocked something loose inside him, something vital. He could taste iron on his tongue.
They were nearing a towering mountain range, craggy and ominous. Without mercy, Vel'Lucranis unsheathed his blade, flapped once with his falcon-like wings, and closed the distance in an instant.
He launched a brutal kick, and Zayne's body smashed into the rocky face of the mountain.
The collision triggered a violent explosion of stone and dust, blanketing the area in thick, choking smoke.
Vel'Lucranis hovered above the wreckage. His blade shimmered in the low light, blood glinting on its edge.
He calmly wiped it clean—using the soft feathers of his wings—and then retracted them, the appendages folding back into his body.
He believed the battle was over. That Zayne had finally succumbed to his injuries.
But before he could drift away, a shadow burst through the smoke with unrelenting speed.
Zayne.
Wounded, breath ragged, but not finished.
He surged forward, blood staining the corner of his lips, and drove his sword straight into Vel'Lucranis' torso, the blade piercing flesh with a sickening crunch.
It was sudden, sharp, and perfectly placed. Vel'Lucranis gasped, his eyes flashing wide. But even in pain, he reacted fast.
Feathers exploded from his back as he summoned the massive wings of a Great Bustard, their powerful structure slamming down with lethal force.
Zayne twisted, trying to dodge, but the wings clipped his side—enough to knock him loose. He was forced to retreat, vanishing in a blur of lightning as his Speed Creation activated.
But he had no time to retrieve his sword. It was still lodged inside Vel'Lucranis.
Zayne skid across the dirt, breathing heavily. His ribs ached. His vision blurred.
Vel'Lucranis grasped the hilt of the blade still embedded in his body, his voice eerily calm. "How are you still alive?"
Zayne wiped the blood from his chin. "If you really wanted to kill me, you would've aimed for something that mattered—like my heart." He staggered a bit but forced himself to stay standing. "But you didn't. And I returned the favor."
Vel'Lucranis chuckled, even as blood trickled down his side. "I thought that would've been enough. But no worries… next time, I'll finish it. You have my word."
Zayne's eyes glowed faintly with red sparks. "You're gonna need a hell of a lot more to kill me. I made a promise… to take down the Purgatorists. You sacrificed my mother for your resurrection. That's a debt I'll pay back in full."
The air grew tense. Silent. The kind of silence that hums just before the storm returns.
Vel'Lucranis slid the sword out of his torso with a grunt. "Ending one life to give birth to another isn't so rare in your world either, is it?" he said.
"You kill animals to eat. You destroy forests to build cities. Death for creation—it's your language too."
Zayne gritted his teeth. "You're not wrong… but we don't rip out hearts to bring back monsters."
Vel'Lucranis remained calm, his hands glowing faintly as the wound on his chest began to close.
"You seem awfully fine for someone stabbed through the gut," Zayne muttered, eyeing him warily.
"We don't feel pain like you do," Vel'Lucranis replied. "Even if we die, we resurrect. All the wounds, the damage… it gets erased. This body isn't permanent. None of it is."
Zayne's eyes narrowed.
"Then you don't need these body parts either."
He surged forward again, a bolt of red lightning exploding beneath his feet. He vanished from sight in a blur—but Vel'Lucranis was ready.
With a flicker of movement, he activated Eagle Wings, his form ascending fast into the air. Zayne's attack missed its mark by inches.
Zayne skidded to a halt, looking up in frustration. "We doing this again?" he said, cracking his neck. "Come on. It's the third time already."
Vel'Lucranis hovered above him, face grim. "There's no more need for delay. I'm ending this."
His wings shifted again, transforming mid-flight into sharp-edged Hawk Wings. The wind roared as he ascended higher, then angled downward, preparing to dive.
Zayne didn't wait.
He turned, ran back to where he had been thrown earlier—and grabbed his sword from the dirt. Lightning crawled up his arms as his Speed Creation activated fully. He whispered under his breath: "Red Thunder."
The ground beneath his feet cracked as he gathered momentum, the energy in his legs building to a crescendo. The mountain wind shrieked around him.
Above, Vel'Lucranis folded his wings tight.
Below, Zayne launched.
In that split second, two forces collided through the sky—one streak of crimson lightning, one dive of bladed feathers. The sonic barrier shattered as they met halfway, a boom echoing for miles.
Steel met steel. Sparks rained down.
But Zayne was faster.
Just before Vel'Lucranis' blade could slice into his shoulder, Zayne twisted, pouring every ounce of speed and power into his sword. His blade collided with Vel'Lucranis'—and shattered it.
The broken edge flew past them as Zayne's blade continued, cutting clean through Vel'Lucranis' side. A harsh gash tore his body, and blood burst out as his form split.
They both crashed into the ground—first Vel'Lucranis, then Zayne.
The world trembled from the impact. Feathers from Vel'Lucranis' wings scattered like snow, drifting in the breeze.
Zayne lay motionless, face half-buried in dirt. His fingers twitched, but his body wouldn't rise.
The earlier wound from Vel'Lucranis had taken more out of him than he'd admitted. His limbs ached. His breath was shallow. But deep inside, something still burned.
He had to keep going.
He had to honor the promise—to destroy the ones who tore his family apart. He had to bring peace to the soul of the woman who gave him life.
Vel'Lucranis, lying broken on the other side of the crater, blinked slowly. His body was falling apart.
The feathers on his wings turned dull, brittle. The sharp tips began to disintegrate. The wound in his torso wasn't healing fast enough. Not this time.
"I won't be able to witness His resurrection," he murmured, his voice faint but clear. "That… that saddens me."
Zayne didn't respond. He didn't have the strength to.
Vel'Lucranis tilted his head to the sky, eyes unfocused. "But I believe… they will still make it happen. Even if I'm not there…"
Then, with a voice like the cry of a dying star, he screamed:
"Zorath… not him!"
His body convulsed once, then lay still.
Red particles—like glowing embers—began to rise from his skin.
They drifted into the air, slowly floating toward the direction of the sacred stones where the souls of the Purgatorists were sealed.
The wind carried them, as if the world itself mourned the passing of one of its monsters.
Zayne closed his eyes. Not out of grief.
But because he needed strength. He had survived. Barely.
But the war was far from over.
On the other side of Purgatory,inside the walls,Lunara came across an unusual creature.