Caelus lifted his sword slowly, his eyes glowing with a soft but steady light. The glow wasn't wild or overwhelming, it was calm, controlled, almost serene. His aura no longer felt human. It felt like the air around him had accepted him as something higher, something rightful. Tzarkhul felt it too, but instead of fear, he only grew more excited.
"So you're finally showing something more interesting," he said, grinning as he stepped forward.
Caelus didn't respond immediately. He simply pointed the blade toward Tzarkhul and spoke in a quiet voice, "You won't win… and you won't be forgiven either."
Tzarkhul laughed, loud and unrestrained. "Is that so? I don't want to be forgiven anyway. Now if the talking is done, shall we continue?"
And with that, they clashed again.
Tzarkhul came at him with wild force, all four arms striking with different elements. Caelus met him calmly, his sword tracing smooth lines in the air, deflecting flames, slicing wind, diverting water, and refusing to break even before hardened earth. Their weapons met every second, the air snapping from the pressure. Their fight had already destroyed the battlefield once, yet now it seemed even more intense than before.
Tzarkhul leaped back suddenly and raised two of his arms high above his head. "Eruption!"
Fire and earth fused together in his hands, forming a blazing beam that burst forward. Caelus jumped away, and the beam struck the ground behind him. The earth melted instantly like heated metal.
Tzarkhul didn't let up. He swung the beam again and again, aiming for Caelus wherever he moved. Caelus dodged each one, his steps light and precise, never panicking, only watching.
"What's wrong?" Tzarkhul shouted. "Come at me!"
He slammed all four fists to the ground. "Tsunami!"
A massive wave rose straight from the earth and water around them. It rushed toward Caelus with enough force to flatten a fortress. But Caelus didn't move this time. He lifted his sword gently and swung once.
The wave broke. Not violently, quietly. The center of the wave collapsed as if it had simply lost its strength. The rest scattered into the air, falling as drifting droplets as soft as feathers.
Tzarkhul didn't stop. Wind spun violently around his fists as he charged.
"Tornado Fist!"
He leaped forward and threw rapid punches, each one strong enough to tear through stone. Caelus stepped back, one foot at a time, his movements relaxed. When Tzarkhul's final strike came, Caelus raised his sword like a shield. The swirling winds around Tzarkhul's fist touched the blade… and fell apart into a gentle summer breeze.
Tzarkhul backed away for the first time, caution flickering in his eyes. "You and your stupid tricks… Fine. Let me end this quickly."
He spread his four arms wide and prepared the same technique that had nearly killed Caelus earlier.
"Planetary Pulse Rupture!"
Two arms struck upward, the sky seeming to ignite. Two slammed downward, sending a massive shockwave through the earth. A vertical line of destruction surged toward Caelus, unavoidable, unstoppable, coming from above and below at the same time.
But Caelus didn't dodge.
He stood still and lifted his sword.
"A Single Leaf, Carried by the Tides of Never-Ending Dreams."
The world didn't shake.
It fell silent.
Wind stopped. Air stopped. Even light seemed unsure if it should move. In that breathless stillness, Caelus's blade glowed gently, softening until it seemed less like metal and more like a memory, a blade of dreams rather than steel.
A single leaf fell from its edge. Not physical, shimmering, water-like, glowing faintly like moonlit dew. A dream-fragment given form.
As the leaf drifted downward, the world bent around it.
The ground turned reflective, becoming a vast calm ocean stretching far beyond the ruins. An ocean without waves, so still it reflected the sky perfectly.
The Tides of Never-Ending Dreams rose from this mirror-sea.
Soft ripples appeared first, circling outward from the falling leaf. Each ripple carried faint silhouettes of dream-spirits, drifting memories, and visions tied to the ancient ruins where the sword had been born.
The tide grew, not violently, but gracefully. A towering wall of luminous water rose higher, moving slowly and majestically, as though time itself had been slowed to make way for it.
Caelus walked forward on the surface of the dream-ocean, each step leaving behind small glimmers of light. Dream energy surrounded him, awakened fully now.
The leaf touched the ocean.
The world breathed again.
The ocean erupted, not in destruction, but in divine beauty. Water columns spiraled upward like pathways to the sky. Leaves of energy bloomed in the air. Dream-spirits sang, their voices like ancient lullabies echoing across lifetimes.
Everything the tide touched, matter, energy, even stray thoughts, was swallowed softly, erased without pain, as though being carried back into dreams.
Caelus made a single, calm slash.
The dream-ocean shattered into countless glowing droplets, each holding a reflection of a different world. They swirled, gathered, and burst outward in a sweeping arc of light.
When the glow faded, the ocean vanished. The leaf dissolved. Silence returned.
Tzarkhul stood in the center of the battlefield. His body had no wounds. Not a single cut. Yet something inside him had been taken, his will, his strength, his consciousness shaken to the core. He collapsed to the ground with a heavy thud, his Elemental Cataclysmic Form fading away, returning him to his normal state.
He lay there, breathing shakily. He had seen something he believed a creature like him did not deserve, something holy. Something pure. His defeat should have been brutal, punishing, painful. Instead… it felt like mercy.
"Why?" he whispered.
Caelus walked toward him and answered before he could ask more. "What you received wasn't up to me. You got what the spirits of these ruins decided. They judged you, not me. I don't know who you are or what you wanted, but this place… it knows."
Tzarkhul said nothing. He simply stared at the sky.
After a moment, Caelus spoke again. "Well, I will take my leave then."
He raised his hand and used his water element to create a gentle water bed, lifting Hugo's broken body carefully. Hugo was unconscious, breathing shallowly, but alive. Caelus held him securely and turned away from Tzarkhul.
Before he left, he spoke one last line.
"Maybe in the past you weren't given a choice. But now… you do."
And with Hugo in his waterbed, Caelus walked toward the center of the battlefield.