Chapter Fourteen
Starfire and Steel
The bandit boss stood amidst the crumbled remains of his underlings, his massive frame casting a long shadow in the dim cave light. Blood spattered his ragged cloak, and his breath came in slow, controlled pulls, unfazed by the mage's earlier assault. His eyes, like ironstone, burned with something more than hate. Determination. Vengeance.
In the silence, the relic sword that was on the stone floor thrown away after being blasted off from the Mage's suprise attack, began to hum—a low vibration that echoed through the stone floor like a heartbeat.
Then, the sword came flying towards him as if it was pulled magnetically towards his hands.
Kael's eyes widened. "No..."
The blade pulsed with a deep crimson glow as the boss's fingers closed around the hilt. When he tore it free, a wave of pressure rolled across the chamber, knocking loose dust from the cavern walls. The relic sword wasn't just a weapon—it was a dungeon-born artifact, etched in forgotten runes and bound to a monstrous will.
With a roar, the boss surged forward, muscles thickening, veins glowing faintly. His presence alone became overwhelming. The sword seemed to consume the light around it, warping the air in its wake.
Arden didn't flinch. He only rolled his shoulders once and thrust his staff into the stone floor.
"Astral convergence," he muttered.
The staff glowed, then dissolved—threads of arcane light spiraling up his arms like rivers of starlight. They fused with his flesh, embedding into the skin of his hands. Now empty-handed, Arden flexed his fingers, and star-forged magic flared in his palms. There were no more chantings. He had become the spell.
The bandit boss roared and charged. Their clash sent out a shockwave that forced Kael and Zerai to brace themselves against the wall. The ground beneath Arden cracked, but he didn't give an inch. He danced between sword arcs like starlight skipping across water, retaliating with bursts of explosive energy and gravitational pulses that bent space.
Mara crouched near the rear of the cave, her eyes calculating, scanning every crevice and shadow. She didn't flinch at the violence—only waited. Watched. An opening would come.
The cave rang with steel against starlight.
The boss brought his sword down like a falling tower—Arden countered with a palm strike that redirected the force upward, turning the blade aside in a spiral of gravity. The boss twisted mid-motion and landed a kick into Arden's ribs, sending him skidding. Arden rolled and came up, firing a concentrated beam of astral flame, which the boss barely avoided.
Then the chanting began.
The bandit leader's voice rose in a guttural, forgotten dialect. Each word carved heat into the air, amplifying his strikes with raw kinetic fury. He moved like a war beast now—enhanced beyond mortal means. Arden grinned, bruised and bloodied.
"Now we're dancing."
He launched a counter-offensive, teleporting mid-step, appearing behind the boss with a wave of frostfire meant to freeze blood itself. The boss spun, parrying it with his sword's red aura, but Arden was already above him, descending with a meteor-like punch that cracked bone and sent the brute stumbling.
Sparks flew. The cavern shook.
Kael felt his legs locked—not from fear, but awe. He had seen fighting before, but this? This was something else. Zerai, too, stood still, his beast-blood instinct telling him what words could not: they were witnessing forces beyond reckoning.
Arden pressed the advantage. Spells flew, not spoken but born from thought alone—gravity wells, time slashes, stars condensed into crystalline blades. The boss retaliated with raw might, shrugging off attacks, slashing the air and tearing through barriers with brute force. Still, for every inch he gained, Arden took two.
Then the tide shifted.
With a chant-laced strike, the boss struck Arden square in the chest. A ripple of dark energy flung the old mage into a column of stone, shattering it. Before he could recover, the brute appeared with terrifying speed and landed a blow to Arden's shoulder, nearly dislocating it. Blood sprayed.
Another hit—a backhand enhanced with kinetic force—drove Arden to his knees. The mage coughed, one eye swelling shut.
But he smiled.
The stars above answered.
With a whisper, Arden summoned a starlance—a javelin of pure celestial fire—and hurled it with pinpoint precision. It pierced the boss's side, igniting his flesh and staggering him. Arden surged forward, hands now twin comets, and struck with a flurry that cracked ribs and shattered bone.
The boss screamed, slashing wildly. Arden dodged, reappeared behind him, and severed the brute's right arm with a focused beam. Blood splashed across the floor, followed by a roar of pain.
The bandit staggered, panting.
Another pulse. Arden took his leg.
The relic sword clanged to the stone as its master faltered.
Kael's throat tightened. Even he felt the boss's desperation, the panic behind those cruel eyes.
Arden stepped forward, half-limping now, bruised but burning with power.
The bandit boss raised his head. One eye was missing, his body ruined.
"You fought well," Arden said.
The boss coughed, laughed bitterly. "I guess I am in no position to bargain."
Arden's expression hardened. "My apprentice. Three months ago. What happened to her?"
The bandit's good eye flickered. For a moment, silence hung thick in the air. Then he nodded—just slightly.
"She—"
Then he stopped.
His jaw clenched.
"I changed my mind," he said, smirking through blood.
He bit down on his tongue. Hard.
The old mage surged forward, but it was too late.
The boss fell, twitching once, then was still. Blood pooled beneath his body, seeping into the ancient stones.
Arden stood there a moment longer, breathing hard. His glow dimmed. The magic that fused with his body began to fade.
Kael finally found his voice. "He… he bit his own tongue."
"Yes," Arden muttered. "A clean death for a creature like that."
Mara stepped forward, wary. "Do we move?"
Arden didn't answer right away. He was staring at the corpse.
Then, quietly, "We move. But not because it's safe. Because the real danger has just arrived."
They turned along with the other hostages who were in the same cell as Ilya, leaving behind the broken throne and the stench of burnt magic.
The stars would not forget what was unleashed there.
Amidst of all the commotions, one bandit escaped...
Continue to Chapter XV...