The forest went silent.
Even the rain hesitated—falling slower, heavier—each drop dragging through the air as if it feared touching the space where Ivan's head had just been severed.
Elliana's blade dissolved.
Her shadows fanned out, coiling around her ankles in anticipation.
The body before her did not move.
Not for one breath.
Two.
Three.
Then—
Ssshhhhlk…
A wet, nauseating sound bubbled from the torn stump of Ivan's neck.
Flesh rippled.
Bone twisted upward.
Muscle writhed beneath his skin like serpents forcing themselves into shape. Crimson tendons snapped into alignment, pulling a new jaw into existence. Teeth sprouted like blooming thorns, slick with blood.
His skull rebuilt itself piece by piece—eyes forming last, twin molten suns burning through the downpour.
The new head hung half-formed and grotesque, skin still knitting together—
—and Ivan began to smile.
Slowly.
Far too slowly.
A chuckle crawled out of his half-grown throat, distorted at first—
khh—khhh—khhh—
—before crystallizing into a sound Elliana had not heard since their clash began.
A laugh.
A deep, rolling, unnervingly joyous laugh—
HAH… hah… HAHAHAHAHA—!
The rest of his face sealed together mid-laughter, skin smoothing, hair regrowing, eyes sharpening as his regeneration completed with a final crack of bone.
Ivan stood fully restored.
Grinning.
Blood dripping from his newly formed chin.
Crimson eyes wide with exhilaration.
He lifted his head toward her, rain washing crimson trails down his face.
And then—
in a voice that shook the trees—
> "Elliana Nyxia — daughter of Ellen Nyxia…"
The forest froze.
Even her shadows paused.
Ivan stepped forward, rain running over his shoulders in red streaks.
His voice deepened, power threading through every syllable:
> "Princess of the Night-Elves Tribe."
"Shadow-walker. Night-born."
His smile widened—feral, admiring, cruel.
> "I acknowledge you."
Rain hammered harder as if reacting to his declaration.
Crimson energy spiraled around his feet, swirling in either deference or challenge—no one could tell.
Ivan's pupils dilated with hungry respect.
> "You are the same as your mother."
A beat.
A breath.
The forest itself seemed to shiver.
Then he spoke the words no blood mage had dared utter in a century:
> "I acknowledge not only you…"
"…but your entire race."
"Your legacy. And your mastery over shadow magic."
His voice dropped into a reverent snarl.
> "Dark-Elve… I see your power."
> "In this world, your people stand above the insects who call themselves its rulers."
Lightning split the sky, illuminating their silhouettes—
Ivan drenched in blood and rain,
Elliana encircled by shifting shadows.
The storm answered for them.
Elliana raised her hand.
The shadows behind her rose like a silent storm.
"And I accept your acknowledgment," she said, voice like cold iron.
Lightning crashed overhead.
"But understand this—"
Her shadows snapped taut, collapsing into a single spear of midnight at her side.
"—it is not mutual."
Thunder shattered the forest.
Ivan only tilted his head.
Then—
He chuckled.
Soft at first…
then rising…
deepening…
rolling through his chest like a drumbeat grown impatient.
His newly formed jaw flexed, a crack running through the bone before sealing again.
He lifted his gaze to her—hungry, delighted, utterly unbroken.
> "Elliana… Elliana…" he murmured, disappointed as though scolding a child.
He exhaled, steam curling from his lips as his blood-magic pulsed outward in a crimson halo.
> "You speak of acknowledgment as if it's something I need."
Another step forward.
The earth sank beneath his heel.
> "But look at yourself."
Elliana didn't move.
Her shadows curled tighter, hissing through the rain.
Ivan's grin sharpened.
> "Every strike you landed?" he said lightly—almost fondly,
"was nothing more than a scratch."
He dragged two fingers across his neck where she had cleaved his head moments earlier.
The skin healed again—just to demonstrate.
> "That's all your shadows can do to me."
"Scratch."
"Tear."
"Delay."
"Scratches that heal before your magic even fades."
He shrugged, letting blood drip from his fingertips as it sizzled into the mud.
> "But kill?"
His crimson eyes narrowed, burning.
> "You can't kill me."
The shadows behind Elliana trembled—not with fear, but with insult.
Ivan's voice dropped, smooth and venomous.
> "No matter how many times you cut me apart…"
"No matter how deep your rage runs…"
"You cannot kill me, Elliana Nyxia."
He inhaled slowly, savoring rain, soil, and shadow.
> "Look at yourself," he whispered, eyes glittering.
"Your stamina is slipping."
"Your breath—shallow."
"Your legs—heavy."
He pointed at her—slowly, deliberately.
> "You're struggling just to stay standing."
Silence answered him.
Only rain.
Ivan inhaled again—slow, deep—like he was savoring the scent of her struggle.
> "Giving birth to my little niece and nephew…"
His smile curved into something dark, knowing—mock sympathy twisted into cruelty.
"…has carved its price into your bones."
Elliana's eyes sharpened into silver blades.
Her shadows coiled to silence him—
but nothing in existence could stop him now.
> "Your body strains."
"Your magic wavers."
"And you—"
He lifted his chin, grin widening with vicious admiration.
> "—you're fighting like a mother who refuses to fall."