Like opposites, Deveralna and Var’Lathen stared each other down.

  One’s lightning slowly faded; the other’s only grew stronger.

  Forced from her throne and stripped of her former composure, the Devourer spread her hands. Sparks erupted from the ground, gathering into her palms. Two blades of searing white lightning took shape, unstable yet deadly.

  Stella, May, and Deveralna regrouped, preparing for the next phase of battle.

  “Now that we’ve got her attention, be prudent,” May warned, her tone sharp but steady. “Watch carefully, act accordingly. That’s all we can do—since that last attack didn’t finish her.”

  The others nodded, eyes fixed on their foe.

  “This little farce has gone on long enough,” Var’Lathen hissed. “You barge into my domain, tear me from my throne, and dare to stand yet in front of me?” Lightning crackled around her, echoing the fury in her voice. “Such insolence… is a sin.”

  She leaned forward, one knee bent, blades raised. Then she vanished.

  In a flash of motion—not magic, but pure speed—she crossed the distance in an instant, reappearing before May.

  “Kh!”

  May barely dodged the downward slash, the impact crushing the stone where she’d stood a heartbeat ago. She spun, her right foot blazing with fire, and kicked toward the Devourer’s face.

  Zap!

  Her strike met the lightning blade. The clash sent a burst of embers and sparks scattering, both sent back from the impact.

  Deveralna appeared behind the Devourer, her body wrapped in blinding white light. Her movements defied logic—each slither a flicker, each flicker a new position. Though it devoured her energy, she didn’t hesitate.

  Her tail, coated in lightning, whipped forward like a spear. Var’Lathen parried it easily, pushed back only a fraction.

  The moment her feet hit solid ground again, Stella lunged. Catharsis spun in her hands, a blur of silver and fury, delivering a storm of piercing strikes.

  Even so, the Devourer blocked every blow with one sword, unshaken.

  May darted in behind, sliding low and sweeping her leg in a wide half-circle, attempting to catch her off guard.

  “...”

  The Devourer wasn’t fooled.

  “Ngh!” Stella’s fauchard was deflected in a powerful counter.

  Leaping gracefully, Var’Lathen flipped over May’s head, the motion eerily reminiscent of Skadii herself, and slashed down.

  May rolled away, the blade grazing her shoulder as she slid to a stop, heat hissing from her breath.

  Her eyes narrowed on the Devourer as it landed, cloak rippling, expression calm once more.

  “...”

  Without turning, Var’Lathen twisted her arm back, one blade raised behind her.

  Cling!

  Deveralna’s lightning strike met the intense energy. The Devourer’s expression remained maddeningly serene, eyes half-lidded, almost bored.

  “Tsk. You’re pissing me off,” Deveralna hissed, wings trembling with barely contained energy. Her tail coiled and Ophion stayed wrapped around her arm, its eyes wide and alert. It wouldn’t move unless commanded—or unless its master faltered.

  Energy gathered around her. She crouched slightly, balancing on her tail, letting her arms hang loose. The fury drained away, replaced by cold focus.

  Then it began—the change.

  The blood of the Dragon Progenitor surged through her veins. White scales crept across her hands; claws replaced her nails. Her body remained the same, but the weight of her presence deepened, pressing on the air like a storm about to break.

  Deveralna flattened her left hand, arm sharp as a blade. She vanished.

  Cling!

  The strike hit true. One of Var’Lathen’s arms recoiled violently, forced above her head.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  Recovering instantly, the Devourer swung down.

  Ching!

  Deveralna met the blow with her other hand, slamming her scaled fist into the blade. Energy rippled outward; the sword shattered into light.

  Var’Lathen stumbled back, blood trailing from her fingers—broken by the force of the impact. She looked down at her ruined hand, sighed, and flexed it once. Flesh knitted. Bone realigned. Within moments, she was whole again.

  “You are strong,” she admitted coldly. “I’ll grant you that much.”

  She sidestepped as Catharsis pierced through, parrying the strike and slamming her lightning blade into Stella’s weapon, driving it into the ground.

  “Damn it!” Stella yanked Catharsis free and backed up beside May.

  The Devourer stood between them, encircled but unshaken. Even surrounded, her gaze remained steady—alert, calculating.

  Then, unexpectedly, she faltered.

  Deveralna and May had pulled away.

  “You,” Deveralna said, voice calm, “aren’t worth my full power yet.” She joined May at a distance.

  The former general nodded. “Stella, she’s yours. I know you’ll manage.”

  Without turning their backs on the Devourer, they withdrew, leaving Stella and Var’Lathen alone in the open.

  “...”

  Confusion flickered in Stella’s eyes, then resolve. This wasn’t a burden—it was a chance.

  The chance to face the creature that had taken her grandmother’s life.

  She spun Catharsis to her side and charged, the others watching in silence.

  (We can’t let ourselves get consumed by this fight.) Deveralna’s voice brushed against May’s thoughts.

  (You’re right. We need to stay sharp. This isn’t just about killing the Devourer.) May’s gaze hardened. (We need to find and recover the Valkyrie’s soul.)

  Recalling Orion’s goal, they stayed their hands. The first phase belonged to Stella.

  (Stella doesn’t realize… we haven’t even seen its true form yet.) May’s eyes darkened. (This is just the preamble. What we’re fighting—it isn’t the real Devourer.)

  Deveralna nodded slowly. (It felt hollow, like fighting a puppet. Once this stolen form is gone, the real one will emerge.)

  They watched the duel unfold, silent and grim.

  (We’re not facing a person… but a calamity. Something vast enough to blot out the sun.) May clenched her fists. (We can’t waste our strength—not yet.)

  They fell silent, entranced by the battle unfolding before them.

  Stella was under constant pressure. Her attacks rarely connected—through countless ripostes, she’d managed to land only a single graze.

  Even with Var’Lathen wielding just one blade, Stella struggled to keep up.

  Yet, slowly but surely, she began to adapt.

  “...”

  Her thoughts emptied, her focus sharpening to a single point. Each movement flowed into the next. Her strikes formed patterns—calculated sequences that began to strain the Devourer’s defenses.

  Something within Var’Lathen stirred uneasily.

  Frowning, she parried another blow and felt her footing falter.

  What is happening? she thought, her vision blurring. I feel... weakened?

  For an instant, the image before her shifted. Instead of Stella, she saw Skadii—fighting side by side with her granddaughter.

  A crack of emotion split through her calm.

  Impossible. Skadii’s soul is within me. How can she fight back?

  But the vision only intensified. The Valkyrie’s form merged with Stella’s, their movements synchronizing into a dance of devastating precision.

  Even May and Deveralna watched in awe, recognizing something brave in the way Stella fought.

  Surrendering to the power flowing within her, Stella shut out everything else.

  Her mind centered on a single truth: I have to defeat this monster.

  Swipes. Thrusts. Arcs of light. Each strike carried mastery beyond her own.

  Then, it happened.

  A jagged stone caught Var’Lathen’s heel. She stumbled—only half a second, but enough.

  Stella’s pupils flared gold. Her breathing slowed. Time itself seemed to stretch.

  Calm Analysis.

  An ability she had hidden even from her closest allies—a rare gift of perception that silenced fear and heightened control, taught only by her father.

  A faint voice whispered in her mind, quiet and steady: a remnant of honor, echoing from deep within the soul passed down.

  Moving with flawless grace, Stella shifted around her enemy, drew back Catharsis, and struck.

  It all happened in less than a breath.

  “Agh—! Wha—?” Var’Lathen’s scream cut through the air as steel pierced her left shoulder blade. Blood burst outward in grandiose sprays. “This place—how—!”

  Her lightning blade flickered out. She clawed at the weapon impaling her, heedless of the wounds she carved into her own flesh.

  For a moment, Stella stood frozen—shocked, not only by her success but by what she felt through the wound.

  A connection.

  A single point in Skadii’s stolen body—its weakness, its heart.

  Then, everything went white.

  Surrounded by a world of light and purity, Stella blinked.

  Before her stood Skadii, smiling softly.

  Her grandmother reached out a hand. Without hesitation, Stella took it. Their fingers intertwined—warm, alive, certain.

  The world shattered back into reality.

  “No!” Var’Lathen’s scream split the air. “What are you doing? Give her back!”

  Her body convulsed, skin rippling with dark light.

  “Ey!” Stella leaned on Catharsis, driving the blade deeper.

  A grotesque sound followed—the tearing of flesh, the unraveling of stolen life.

  The Devourer shrieked, her body splitting apart.

  Stella took another step back, raised her weapon, and thrust again—this time through the opposite shoulder blade. With a single motion, she dragged her enemy upward, into the dome above.

  They burst through the dome’s roof. Lightning flared around them as Stella spun, twisting midair.

  Then, with a roar that shook the clouds, she hurled Var’Lathen toward the ground at crushing speed.

  Energy gathered along Catharsis’s edge, radiating a brilliance that lit the sky.

  She dove.

  “Cataclysm!”

  The impact roared like a collapsing world.

  Stella landed hard, sliding across the shattered stone. Above her, the Devourer’s body fell—broken, half-disintegrated, the upper and lower halves separating midair.

  “...Cough...”

  Blood spilled from Var’Lathen’s mouth as a gaping wound tore through her chest. She looked down at herself, hollow-eyed.

  “That’s... cough... going to cost you.”

  And then, the form that had once stolen the Valkyrie’s beauty dissolved—fragmenting into countless particles of dark light.

  As Deveralna and May had feared, the ground began to tremble.

  The dome evaporated piece by piece, its walls turning to vapor. Above, the storm churned—its eye revealing something immense stirring within.

  A shadow moved inside the spinning clouds—vast, formless, and ancient.

  Lightning split the sky.

  And through the flashing storm, the trio saw it:

  The true Devourer, Var’Lathen, freed at last into its colossal form.