Elder Liam stepped forward slowly, his spear concept blazing around him like a storm of sharp winds. His voice was calm, but it carried the weight of a mountain.
"You can't win against us," he said, his gaze firm on Leone's trembling form. "Surrender now, or you'll soon be begging for death."
Elder Owen descended as well, his black flames twisting around his form like a living shadow. His cold eyes fixed on Leone.
"Direkins are no different than chained dogs," Owen sneered. "Just as dogs never betray their masters, Direkins will never betray their demons. There's no point trying to subdue him. Better to end it quickly—kill him here and now."
Leone's chest heaved, his breaths shallow, ragged, and burning. His golden eyes, once fierce and prideful, now burned with a mix of fury and resignation. Slowly, his gaze shifted past Liam and Owen, sweeping across the battlefield.
What he saw made his expression darken.
The Direkin army… his army… lay broken.
