The battlefield trembled as if the earth itself understood that something had changed. The oppressive weight of Malrik's shadow, which had pressed down on every warrior present, was suddenly met with resistance—not from Selene's flames nor Kieran's unyielding blade, but from the boy who had been forged to break.
Rael.
Chains clattered as the last links shattered, exploding in a spray of molten gold. His body arched, his scream a sound caught between agony and rebirth. Light surged through him, coursing along every vein until it seemed his skin itself could not contain it.
His wings unfurled with a violent snap—no longer the corrupted crimson-black of Malrik's hold, but a dazzling expanse of gold threaded with white fire. They beat once, sending shockwaves that sent both friend and foe stumbling backward. The air burned with his presence, heavy with the scent of ozone and smoke, as if lightning itself had taken human form.
Selene could barely breathe. Tears blurred her vision, but she didn't dare look away. For the first time since his birth, she was seeing her son unbound—not the weapon Malrik had tried to make of him, but the boy who carried both her blood and Kieran's fire.
Malrik's howl split the sky, thunderous and venomous. Shadows recoiled from the brilliance Rael now emanated, retreating as if scorched. The warlord staggered backward, his form warping, fire and darkness bleeding from his body as his dominion faltered.
"You defy me?" Malrik roared, his voice shaking the heavens. "I carved you from nothing! You are mine!"
Rael's golden eyes snapped open, burning like two suns. His voice, though ragged, cut through the battlefield with a force that stilled everything.
"I was never yours."
And then he struck.
A torrent of golden fire erupted from his wings, searing across the battlefield like a tidal wave. It slammed into Malrik's shadowed body, burning away layer after layer of his essence. The warlord screamed, his figure fracturing, his command over the corrupted soldiers faltering. Dozens collapsed instantly, freed from the grip of his influence, their bodies crumpling into stillness.
Kieran staggered to Selene's side, bloodied but unbroken, his eyes wide with awe. "By the gods… Selene… he's not just breaking free—he's destroying him."
Selene clutched his arm, unable to tear her gaze away. Her heart was caught between terror and overwhelming pride. "That's not Malrik's blade anymore. That's my son."
Malrik reeled back, raising walls of shadow to shield himself, but Rael advanced, each step shaking the earth. Golden fire curled around his arms, condensing into a spear of light. His wings spread wide, blazing against the night.
"You wanted me to be a weapon," Rael said, his voice ringing like a vow. "Then I'll choose who I fight for."
He hurled the spear.
It tore through Malrik's defenses, shattering the fortress of darkness around him. The impact sent the warlord crashing into the mountainside with an explosion of stone and flame, the shockwave rippling across the land.
The battlefield went silent.
For a heartbeat, all eyes turned to Rael. His chest heaved, his body trembling, but the golden fire around him burned steady. He was free—yet fragile, a boy standing in the ruins of chains that had defined his entire life.
Selene stepped forward, her sword clattering forgotten to the ground. She whispered his name, voice shaking. "Rael…"
His golden eyes flickered toward her, softening. His lips parted as if to speak, but before the moment could solidify—before mother and son could reach for one another—Malrik's roar split the silence once more.
The rubble shifted. The warlord rose