The Warden's armor absorbed the glow of the alarms, making him look more like a void than a man. His staff hummed with restrained violence, violet arcs dancing along its edges as he advanced.
Low squared her shoulders. "I've got this," she snarled, charging again with reckless fury.
The Warden met her like a wall of iron. His staff struck once, clean and precise, and Low flew backward, crashing against the corridor wall hard enough to leave a dent. She staggered back to her feet, spitting blood, and grinned through her pain. "Hit harder than that if you want me to quit."
Jacqueline raised her hands, pulling every droplet of water from the floor and air into a dense sphere. With a sharp gesture, she compressed it into a high-pressure lance and fired. The water shrieked as it cut forward—only to splatter harmlessly against the Warden's shimmering shield. Her jaw tightened. "It's like he's wrapped in an inversion field. My water just bends around him."
Zombiel stepped forward, his chest glowing brighter. He extended both hands, releasing a torrent of orange flame that filled the corridor. The Warden didn't flinch. He waded through fire like it was smoke, violet staff humming louder.
Leonotis's grip on the Dryad tightened. Her frail body trembled in his arms, and for the first time, her dull eyes shifted, focusing faintly on his chest. Her bark-like fingers moved clumsily, brushing against his arm.
And then—her palm pressed against his sternum.
Leonotis gasped as if lightning had struck him. Something deep inside his chest shifted, like roots tearing free from stone. His vision blurred green, his heartbeat syncing with a rhythm not his own. It felt like vines were growing in his arms, alive with vibrant energy, glowing faintly as leaves unfurled along their length.
A voice, soft and ancient, bloomed in his mind: Remember the first seed. Remember the sun.
His knees buckled. Heat and power rushed through him, not burning, but growing—expanding. His ase, the essence that tethered him to life and magic, flared. He felt it climb, rising to a new plateau. The lab, the alarms, even the Warden's heavy steps—all of it dimmed beneath the thundering pulse of green life inside him.
"Leonotis!" Jacqueline's sharp cry snapped him back. The Warden was raising his staff for a killing blow.
Leonotis set the Dryad gently down and stepped forward. His root-sword was no longer soggy wood. It pulsed with fresh life, vines twining tighter, the blade gleaming with viridescent light. He lifted it with both hands, energy pouring into the weapon until it hummed like a living thing.
The Warden swung his staff down. Leonotis raised the sword to meet it.
The clash shook the corridor. Violet sparks collided with emerald fire, filling the air with ozone and the scent of crushed leaves. For the first time, the Warden stumbled back a single step.
Leonotis's breath came ragged, but his eyes blazed. "I'm not running anymore."
Low grinned through her bruises. "Finally."
The fight was far from over, but for the first time, the Warden wasn't the only unstoppable force in the room.
The clash of violet and green still echoed down the corridor, vibrating through the walls. The Warden steadied himself, visor gleaming, staff humming with renewed power.
"You've grown," his mechanical voice droned. "Irrelevant."
He surged forward again, staff cutting an arc of violet light. Leonotis ducked, his movements sharper now, fueled by the Dryad's touch. The root-sword in his hand wasn't just a weapon anymore—it sang with life. With every swing, glowing vines lashed out, striking the Warden's armor and leaving trails of burning green across its surface.
But the Warden didn't falter. He spun his staff, forcing Leonotis back.
"Low!" Leonotis barked.
Already moving, Low leapt into the fight. She seized a broken pipe from the corridor wall and swung it like a war club. The Warden blocked, but her sheer force drove him back a pace. "Not so untouchable when it's two on one, huh?" she roared, slamming into him again.
The Warden shifted his weight and blasted her with a pulse of violet energy from his staff. Low was hurled down the corridor, body skidding across the slick tiles. She groaned, but she was grinning. "Still standing!"
Jacqueline's eyes narrowed, her hands weaving fluid sigils in the air. The water she'd conjured before wasn't enough, but now she pulled deeper—from pipes running through the walls and ceiling. They groaned and burst, flooding the corridor. With a sweeping gesture, she froze the torrent mid-motion, shaping it into jagged spears of ice.
"Now, Zombiel!"
The silent boy extended both hands. The orange ember in his chest flared bright, heat rolling off him in waves. Steam hissed violently as the ice glowed red-hot, turning into deadly shards of scalding vapor and molten water. With a flick of his wrist, Zombiel launched them forward.
The Warden's shield flickered under the assault, violet arcs shuddering as molten steam battered it again and again. For the first time, cracks spiderwebbed across the shimmering barrier.
"Leonotis—finish it!" Jacqueline shouted.
He didn't hesitate. Plant magic surged through his veins, his sword thrumming with verdant power. The Dryad's faint glow pulsed in rhythm with his heart. Leonotis charged, his blade trailing luminous vines that tore into the air behind him.
The Warden swung his staff to block. Their weapons collided in a thunderclap of violet and green. Leonotis roared, channeling every ounce of ase he had, pushing the root-sword down. The vines leapt from the blade, wrapping around the staff, climbing the Warden's armor.
"Let. Her. Go!" Leonotis bellowed, his voice echoing like a storm.
The vines bloomed, erupting in a burst of radiant green light. Leaves unfurled, roots dug into the armor, and life itself invaded the Warden's machine-like shell. Sparks burst from his joints, his shield shattered with a scream of energy, and for the first time, the towering figure staggered to one knee.
Low was there instantly, slamming her makeshift club into his helmet with bone-cracking force. Jacqueline's water surged around his legs, freezing him in place. Zombiel's flames licked higher, searing through weakened armor seams.
Leonotis raised his sword high, the Dryad's power burning in his chest. With one final strike, he brought the blade down.
The Warden's armor split, green fire ripping through violet circuits. A blinding flash filled the corridor. Then—silence.
When the light faded, the Warden lay motionless, his staff cracked in two, armor smoking and lifeless.
Leonotis staggered, his breath ragged. He looked down at his hand, still glowing faintly with the Dryad's energy. Inside, he felt the new depth of his ase—deeper, stronger, but heavier too, as though carrying roots that dug into something vast and ancient.
The Dryad's eyes fluttered open again. Her voice was a whisper, barely audible, but it carried like wind through leaves: "Grow, child. Grow."
Low limped over, grinning despite the blood on her lip. "Well, if that's their best, we've got this."
Jacqueline shook her head, though there was relief in her eyes. "If that was just a Warden, imagine what guards the King."
Zombiel said nothing, only touched the cracked staff. The orange glow in his chest dimmed, but his lips curved into the faintest of smiles.
For the first time since their mission began, Leonotis felt like a hero.
And with the Dryad's power burning in his chest, he knew the fight for their freedom had only just begun.