“I challenge you to a duel, Anax Alderion. To the death.”
Silence followed, as heavy as it was brief. Several sets of eyes almost bulged out of their sockets in shock, while every single person present stared at Leon, who endured the weight of their attention with all the grace that he could with the amount of wrath flowing through his veins.
Leon himself only glared at Alderion, his killing intent thick enough to drop the ambient temperature precipitously. The Anax had presumed that he could touch Leon’s wives; there was nothing Leon wanted to do more in that moment than make him shorter by a head.
The silence was broken when Fargrim, the first to react, burst out laughing, every guffaw he let pass his lips shaking the sands far below. “YES!” he boomed. “THIS IS THE ONLY WAY A PROBLEM SHOULD BE SOLVED!”
Ouros, however, asked more calmly, “Leon, my everdark grandnephew… are you sure about this?”
At the same time, Leon felt Valeria sidle up next to him and brush her arm against his. She didn’t say anything, but he could hear the unspoken question regardless. Maia, however, could feel what he felt and offered no questions; he could only feel support and agreement flowing through their connection.
“I can take your head,” he spat at Alderion. “I will take your head.”
Alderion finally reacted, starting with a thunderous laugh that was almost as powerful as Fargrim’s. He let it go for several long seconds, and when it seemed like he was almost finished, he started up again. By the time he recovered, he was red-faced and nearly crying.
“I… accept,” he gasped. “I will… offer your soul to the spirits of war and mount your head over the gates of my castle.” His eyes flickered in the dragons’ direction, and he paled slightly, then hurried to add, “I accept only if there is to be no interference, and if the outcome is accepted!”
“The outcome will be accepted,” Fargrim announced without even consulting his brother Patriarchs, something which might have been insulting if Ryonos and Ouros hadn’t both nodded their acceptance a moment later, neither hesitating a moment. Though they were a little calmer than Fargrim, they were still dragons at their core.
Of those four, only Jennifyr seemed even slightly nervous. It looked like she wanted to say something, but Leon, not wanting to delay any longer, shouted for the entire battlefield to hear, “When I win, your forces will depart back to their own lands! Any designs they have upon Artorion are to be forgotten! They can decide amongst themselves who rules over them in your place!”
Despite being tempted, Leon wasn’t that interested in trying to take over Alderion’s position. It sounded like a lot of work when he wanted his focus to first be on rebuilding Artorion, and then turning his attention back to the planes. He had a Great Strand to conquer and didn’t want to get distracted keeping a bunch of other thirteenth-tier mages in line…
… though if it encouraged a few more Despots to swear themselves to him, he wouldn’t necessarily reject them…
“And when I win,” Alderion countered, smiling wolfishly, “all that you have becomes mine.” He let his eyes rake over Leon’s wives behind him. However, instead of continuing with any crude boasts or threats, he simply asked, “Who will be your second?”
“A second?” Leon scoffed. “We don’t need—”
The dark-skinned thirteenth-tier mage that Alderion brought immediately offered, “Anax Alderion, I ask to be your second. Ramin was my friend, and his loss feels as if I have lost my own heart. To honor his memory, allow me to stand with you when you crush the man who seeks to profit from my friend’s death.”
“Basileus Joramhal,” Archelaus whispered hesitantly, “Basileus Ramin—”
“Silence, traitor,” Joramhal hissed, his interjection coming with a searing glare. Archelaus sighed and seemed like he was going to ask to be Leon’s second, but he was far too slow.
Daryun was the first to shoot forward and ask, “My King, I ask for the honor of being your second.” Leon blinked, nearly turning him down simply for lack of need, as far as he saw it, for a second. But then Zhang threw himself forward.
“King Leon, I also ask for the honor of being your second.”
All the rest of Leon’s Paladins, including Lana and Graniton, despite neither having yet achieved Apotheosis, offered themselves, and judging by their looks, Leon’s wives were getting ready to offer themselves, too. Even Jennifyr and the other dragons looked tempted, but their requests dulled in his ears when Leon’s eyes found another…
Triyr met his gaze and lowered his head slightly. “I acted dishonorably to you in the past,” he said. “If you would allow me, I would also stand as your second, as a show of my sincere contrition.”
Leon frowned, but a stolen glance at Joramhal convinced him—it was only a ceremonial position since neither he nor Alderion were going to back down, but it didn’t feel right to let Alderion have a thirteenth-tier mage as his second, while Leon accepted only an eleventh or twelfth-tier mage.
“I am honored by your trust and loyalty, all of you,” he said to everyone else. “Triyr, let us put our disagreements in the past, and perhaps build a friendship in the future. I accept your offer.”
There was some disappointment, but his decision was made, and all that remained was to finalize the rules of the duel.
“Done?” Alderion sarcastically grunted when Leon, now with Triyr at his side, finally turned back to him. “The spirits of patience themselves would boil the Lake of Souls from how long you’ve taken. But I can understand needing your sycophants to bolster your resolve before I end your life.”
“You should have more sincerity in your last moments,” Leon chided. “No rules, then? Everything we have? No holding back?”
Alderion scoffed. “No, Leon of the Thunderbird Clan, I won’t hold back, though I doubt you’ll present such a great challenge that I’ll need to use everything I possess. Call upon whatever powers you have; they will not avail you. The Thunderbird itself could return and lend you its aid, and it would be of no help.”
Leon’s heart sank, but only for the fact that the Thunderbird wasn’t currently in his soul realm. He would’ve loved to hear her response to the Anax’s boast, for after he was done, Alderion would certainly not be in a state to repeat it for her amusement.
“Give us space, all of you!” Alderion shouted at their respective onlookers. “It’s time for me to get what I came for!”
Alderion’s hangers-on immediately retreated, though Joramhal only by a mile or so. The others fell back all the way to the edge of the sandstorm.
Leon gave his people one final look, and they, too, fell back. Some looked worried, such as Valeria and Cassandra. Others were far more confident, like the dragons. Most were some combination of the two, such as Anzu, who was struggling to keep the smile from his face while also shaking with the naked desire to fight alongside Leon and ensure his victory.
“Thank you,” Triyr whispered. “For your trust.”
“Best not to thank me until this is over,” Leon replied neutrally. “Thank you all the same.”
Triyr lowered his head again, then fell back about a mile, mirroring Joramhal.
Leon and Alderion were left floating hundreds of feet off the ground and separated by almost as much space. Their auras whirled around them like storms unto themselves, and it was obvious to everyone watching that Alderion was the more powerful mage, if only by the sheer size of his aura compared to Leon’s.
But Leon withstood it easily. Neither moved immediately—it wasn’t like they had any formal, unbiased referee who could call the duel to start; it would begin when the first move was made, whenever it was made.
Leon’s heart began to beat harder, faster, hotter, transporting the boiling heat of his rage throughout his body. He could feel his limbs growing stronger the more he thought about squeezing Alderion’s head from his shoulders and gouging out the eyes that had leered at his ladies, then tearing the tongue that had so disrespectfully spoken about them from its arrogant skull.
He could feel his magic flashing through his body, and in a flash of magic, he conjured Iron Pride.
‘Triton had runes,’ he thought. ‘What do you have…?’
In a flash of silver-blue, the duel began—faster than the mortal eye could track, Leon was on Alderion, Iron Pride coming down in a blow that could split a mountain in twain. Alderion raised a hand and conjured a halberd, and with only that one hand, blocked Leon’s blow.
The halberd wasn’t even scratched. The head was made of shining Adamant, while the haft was some kind of dark, cloudy crystal that glittered with inset gems and glowing runes.
“Only a Universe Fragment could get past Spirits’ Will,” Alderion boasted, not even bothering to don his helmet.
Leon grinned right back as the Iron Needle sparked in the hilt of his weapon. He squeezed slightly and let the Universe Fragment loose.
A torrent of silver-blue lightning erupted from Iron Pride. A hundred bolts fell from storm clouds that hadn’t been there a mere moment ago, and struck Alderion as he rocketed downward, digging on impact an enormous crater deep into the ocean-like sand of the Drum Desert. Entire dunes melted amidst the heat of Leon’s lightning strikes, and rivers of molten sand rushed down into the crater Alderion left.
Golden lightning flashed through the crater, cutting paths through these molten rivers, and Alderion shot back into the sky, his face bearing the distinctive marks of lightning burns. He shot toward Leon, his halberd blazing with power.
Leon felt space seem to contract as Alderion bore down on him, his continuing stream of silver-blue lightning parting around the enraged Anax. He cut off the flow from Iron Pride and dove as Alderion’s halberd tore through the sky where he’d just been. As he tumbled around, he glanced at Alderion’s spear again, his golden eyes picking apart the runic scheme that glowed beneath the surface.
Alderion stopped and turned so quickly that a mortal’s organs would’ve been pulverized by their own skeleton, and, holding his halberd in one hand, conjured a tall shield in the other. The shield looked almost like highly polished fulgurite, the outer surface so smooth that it could almost be used as a mirror. Leon almost thought that he might be taking a more defensive stance until runes began glowing around the Adamant rim of the shield, and he felt power gathering near the face.
A rune flashed beneath the polished surface, and Leon swept Iron Pride before him, conjuring a rune of his own. A wave of violet lightning burst from the shield, but Leon’s rune screamed with power, and every violet bolt slammed into it instead. His rune shattered after enough bolts struck it, but only a few violet bolts were left, and Leon’s armor withstood the rest.
Leon himself charged again, silver-blue lightning arcing across his body. He thrust Iron Pride forth, another rune flashing along the blade. Alderion brought his shield up to block, and the violet lightning rune began to glow once again, but before another wave of power could explode from the shield, Iron Pride slammed into it. The Iron Needle hummed, the rune on the blade shone with blinding light, and the Adamant pierced the fulgurite. The shield’s surface shattered, and the violet lightning rune vanished.
Alderion roared in anger and bashed Leon away with the shield, chunks of fulgurite falling to the cooling sands below, which were already forming a veritable lake of more dirty, unshaped, unpolished fulgurite.
“YOU!” Alderion shouted as he shot after Leon, his halberd singing like wind chimes as golden lightning danced around the ax head. He thrust the halberd, and an enormous bolt bore down on Leon, but he brought Iron Pride up, and with a swish of the blade, the bolt swerved around him and exploded through a dune below him.
Leon followed through with the sword swish, and a thousand bolts of silver-blue lightning fell from the clouds above. Alderion spun and swayed through them, never allowing himself to be struck, but still giving Leon a little more breathing room.
Leon, relying on sheer overwhelming violence, thrust Iron Pride again, but this time he focused deeper within himself. He knew what he was looking for now, and unlike every time he’d called upon it, this time, when black lightning shimmered across Iron Pride, it came with only a mild sting rather than sharp, acute pain. Veles’ warnings about drawing too deeply from the power of death rang in his ears almost as loudly as the thunder that surrounded him, but he was facing a fourteenth-tier mage, and he couldn’t hold back. He knew that at the very least, Alderion could outlast him, and that meant that he couldn’t climb the escalation ladder rung-by-rung—he had to jump.
The bright dunes below, the Origin Spark above, and the world all around them seemed to dim as stygian lightning erupted from Iron Pride. If Alderion’s halberd sang with power, the Iron Needle was full out belting, the power that it had given Leon carving an obsidian line through reality itself.
It reached Alderion faster than he could blink. The Anax screamed as the bolt struck him in the chest and cut through the golden Adamant. Pieces of the breastplate fell, glowing red-hot, while drops of bright red, magic-packed blood followed. Alderion fell, his flesh blackened in the finger-wide hole that Leon’s death bolt had punched through his armor.
Leon was already moving and slammed into Alderion before the Anax had fallen more than a dozen feet. He thrust Iron Pride toward the hole, a penetration rune shimmering along the blade. But as horrifically as he’d struck Alderion, the man was still an Anax, and one wearing powerful armor. Alderion raised an arm and blocked Iron Pride. Leon’s blade bit deeply into Alderion’s Adamant bracer and drew blood, but it gave Alderion leverage, which he used to wrest the blade from Leon’s hand and throw it aside.
Leon simultaneously reached out for his weapon and sprang back, but even as Iron Pride slowed its fall and prepared to spring back to his hand, Alderion lunged, grabbing a hold of Leon’s armor. Golden lightning exploded around them as Alderion slammed his fist into Leon’s cheek.
Blood and several teeth exploded out of Leon’s mouth. Another blow shattered his jaw. A third broke his nose. Each came with a shocking amount of pain.
Then, as blood poured down Leon’s face, Alderion grabbed him by the throat and drove a golden bolt of lightning into Leon’s breastplate. The Anax’s eyes were wild now, even with ugly black markings slowly spreading up his face, originating where he’d been struck by the death bolt.
“I am going to ruin those women,” he spat into Leon’s bleeding face. “They’ll wish for death, but I won’t give it to them until they scream my name…” He ground the bolt further into Leon’s chest as the hand he held Leon’s throat with tightened. Golden lightning filled Leon’s vision, and then darkness began to gather at the edges. He tried calling on his power, but surrounded by Alderion’s power, he struggled to get it to manifest outside of his body.
For just a moment, he thought he’d erred. Challenging Alderion had been… arrogant, something he’d done in anger without thinking it through. But… he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t do it again if given the chance. His wives were here, and he would protect his family. He would uphold their honor.
He would not fall here. If he couldn’t push his power outward, then he’d focus it inward.
Within his soul realm, his transformation enchantment glowed. He’d not used it since Antipatra had revealed that she had runes that would hit him particularly hard when transformed. But Alderion, it seemed, wasn’t tied to that faction—or at least, hadn’t been given similar anti-bloodline runes.
To hurry the process along, Leon pushed his origin power into the enchantment. He then submerged his mind into the boiling rage that still filled him and let go. The only thing he filled his mind with was destroying Alderion.
The Anax himself grinned as Leon slowed, his golden bolt grinding deeper into Leon’s armor, his power locking around the younger man to keep him immobile and powerless.
And then Leon’s body exploded outward, all feathers, talons, and silver-blue lightning. Alderion’s power split around Leon’s larger form, and in the cracks, Leon lunged.
Alderion tried to retreat at the same time, but golden talons locked onto him, holding him in place. His eyes widened in panic as he called upon his power and his helmet, and the latter barely appeared over his head in time to save his life; Leon’s golden beak slammed into his head, ringing Alderion like a bell, but not quite penetrating the Adamant helmet. Still, Alderion’s vision went dark, and his mind filled with fog as pain traveled throughout his entire body. The left side of his body began to seize up, and his halberd slipped from his fingers.
Alderion nearly felt himself slip into his soul realm from that hit, but he could feel his body start to tingle as his fourteenth-tier power got to work healing that nightmarish blow. Feeling properly returned just in time for him to realize that Leon’s talons had managed to squeeze through the armor covering his legs and slice through flesh. His legs, both cut mid-thigh, were already falling to the ground, while the rest of him remained locked in Leon’s grip. His vision swam, but resolved in the exact moment that Leon curled down again, his golden beak gleaming as silver-blue lightning raced up his neck, across his brilliant golden eyes, and down along his sharper-than-blades beak.
This time, instead of striking Alderion in the head, Leon drove into Alderion’s neck, ripping away the gorget and slicing through the flesh there. Alderion couldn’t even scream as silver-blue lightning surged through his body, incinerating all it touched.
For the briefest moment, as that silver-blue lightning burned through his physical brain, the fog that he’d lost his mind to cleared, and he comprehended all the of the pain and damage that Leon had done.
And then Leon tore him asunder, his beak tearing his head and almost splitting his torso in half, while his enormous talons finished the job, ripping Alderion down the middle with a sickening crunch.
Alderion didn’t hear the crunch, however. By then, he was already dead.
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