The shock of Karnazul's crimson-black regeneration, the sheer suicidal audacity of his interception, held Theodric frozen for a critical heartbeat. The golden aura around the Dragon Knight pulsed, a visible ripple of surprise disrupting its incandescent flow. Karnazul hung from Theodric's golden gauntlet like a broken puppet, his newly formed hand – forged from volcanic fury and obsidian will – clamped with desperate, unnatural strength onto the radiant wrist. Blood frothed at his lips, his chest a ruin of shattered bone beneath his dark armor, yet his crimson eyes burned with undimmed, feral devotion fixed on Donarstraza behind him.
"GET BACK!" Karnazul roared, the command spraying blood but carrying the raw force of his oath. It wasn't just for Donarstraza; it was a guttural challenge flung at Theodric.
With a surge of strength born of agony and pure, unadulterated rage, Karnazul pushed off Theodric's chest with his regenerated hand. The force, amplified by his demonic power and desperation, sent him flying backwards – not away, but towards the nearest towering obsidian pillar at the arena's edge.
He hit the pillar feet-first, the impact cracking stone. Instead of crumpling, he used it as a springboard. Ash-grey muscles, fueled by adrenaline and dark magic, coiled and exploded. Karnazul became a dark comet, hurtling back towards Theodric with impossible speed, his newly formed fist wreathed in the same crimson-black fire aimed squarely at the Dragon Knight's head.
Theodric's moment of surprise vanished, replaced by cold efficiency. He didn't dodge. He simply raised his left arm. The air shimmered, and the Lord of the East materialized, not in a grand summoning, but as if it had always been there. The broad, pearlescent blade met Karnazul's blazing fist.
CLANG!
The deep, resonant chime echoed again, swallowing the sound of the impact. Karnazul's fiery punch dissipated against the impenetrable surface like water on stone. The Lord of the East didn't budge an inch. Theodric stood immovable, his expression one of detached contempt. Karnazul landed hard, stumbling back, his chest wound weeping fresh blood, his regenerated hand smoking but intact.
The Ash Lord didn't pause. He whirled, using his momentum to launch himself at the next pillar, rebounding, then the next. He became a blur of dark fury, ricocheting around the arena perimeter, striking from impossible angles – high, low, behind. Each attack was a concentrated blast of demonic strength and fire, aimed at joints, blind spots, the ground beneath Theodric's feet.
Each attack met the Lord of the East.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Theodric barely moved. A subtle shift of his wrist, a fractional turn of his shoulder. The pearlescent blade was always there, an immovable mountain, effortlessly grounding Karnazul's desperate fury. Sparks flew, obsidian cracked under Karnazul's impacts, but Theodric remained untouched, a golden statue of disdain amidst the chaotic onslaught. Donarstraza watched, heart hammering, the system screaming warnings she couldn't process, seeing Karnazul literally tearing himself apart trying to land a single blow.
Karnazul's crimson eyes, wild with pain and frustration, locked onto Theodric standing calmly near the center. A guttural snarl ripped from his throat, raw and primal. He stopped his frantic bouncing. Planting his feet wide on a cracked ledge high above, ignoring the agony in his chest, he raised both hands – the regenerated one and his remaining natural one – high above his head. Crimson-black fire surged, but this time it crackled with jagged bolts of pure, white-hot lightning. The air pressure spiked, ozone sharp and acrid.
"THUNDER CLAP!" Karnazul bellowed, his voice echoing with the fury of a breaking storm.
He brought his hands down in a savage clap.
Above Theodric, the very air sundered. A massive, blinding palm, easily ten feet across, forged from crackling white lightning, materialized instantly and slammed downwards with the force of a falling star. It was Karnazul's fury made manifest, amplified by his demonic core and the unique spark of Donarstraza's own domain – a desperate, borrowed echo of her lightning affinity.
Donarstraza gasped. The sheer destructive power was terrifying, capable of vaporizing lesser demons, shattering the arena floor. It descended faster than thought.
Theodric didn't flinch. He didn't dodge. He simply tilted the Lord of the East above his head, holding the impossibly broad blade parallel to the ground, like a shield… or an umbrella.
CRACK-BOOOOOM!
The lightning palm struck the pearlescent surface. The sound was apocalyptic, a physical blow that shook the Void Arena to its foundations. Jagged forks of energy exploded outwards, earthing themselves violently into the surrounding pillars and floor, leaving smoking craters. Dust and debris filled the air.
But where Theodric stood? Nothing. A perfect circle of calm amidst the electrical storm. The Lord of the East absorbed the titanic blast effortlessly, the pearlescent surface glowing faintly for a moment before returning to its normal sheen. Not a single spark touched Theodric. He stood beneath it, utterly unfazed, the golden aura around him blazing even brighter, fed by the dissipated energy.
The dust cleared slightly. Theodric lowered the Lord of the East, his yellow eyes finding Karnazul, still standing high on his ledge, chest heaving, face a mask of exhausted disbelief and dawning horror. A cold, mocking smile touched Theodric's lips.
"Is that," his voice cut through the ringing silence and the crackle of dying lightning, dripping with scorn, "all the Fallen Goddess's lapdog has got?"
The taunt shattered Karnazul's last vestige of strategy. Rage, pure and blinding, consumed him. He forgot his injuries, forgot tactics, forgot everything but the need to erase that smug face. With a roar that was half-scream, half-sob, he launched himself from the ledge, not with agility this time, but in a final, suicidal dive, claws extended, dark fire and residual lightning wreathing his body, aiming to tackle Theodric and drag them both down.
Theodric sighed, a sound of profound disappointment. As Karnazul hurtled towards him, Theodric simply stepped aside with preternatural grace. Not far. Just enough.
He brought the Lord of the East around in a short, devastating horizontal arc. Not with the edge. With the impossibly dense, flat side. It connected with Karnazul's descending torso.
THOOOOM!
The impact was sickeningly final. Karnazul's charge was reversed instantly. He was flung sideways like a ragdoll, crashing through a weakened obsidian pillar with a shattering crunch before slamming into the far wall of the arena. He slid down the stone, leaving a dark smear of blood and ash, and lay utterly still, a broken heap of dark metal and grey flesh. No groan, no twitch. Only the faint, ominous crackle of dying embers around him.
Theodric stood alone in the center of the devastation, the Lord of the East held loosely at his side. The golden aura around him hadn't dimmed; if anything, it had intensified during the fight, burning brighter and more fiercely, a visible corona of righteous power that pushed back the gloom of the Void Arena. His yellow eyes, blazing with cold fury and unchallenged supremacy, swept past Karnazul's ruined form and locked onto Donarstraza.
The Fallen Goddess of Lightning and Ruin, Level 4, stood exposed. Her strongest protector was down. The timer for her quest ticked relentlessly. And the Catastrophic Threat identified by the system now had nothing standing between him and her. The Lord of the East gleamed, a silent promise of oblivion, as Theodric took his first deliberate step towards her. The golden aura flared, a challenge and a condemnation in the cold, dead air.