like a spinning millstone. The horses uttered an ominous sound, furiously clattering their hooves to reach their opponents as quickly as possible. A battle began in the skies. Iron clashed against iron. Two powerful forces faced each other.
Seeing the dragons' actions, Naimad felt a shiver of excitement. Who was his ally? He couldn't recall the golden creature, but he remembered the silver dragon from somewhere. His strength was slowly returning. Though still wounded, he curled up and tried to sit up. A searing pain prevented him from doing so. However, a moment later, he felt a strange strength. This strength, he realized, had been sustaining him all along. Pain, like a dagger's stab, pierced him where he'd been wounded. He gritted his teeth and slowly struggled to his feet.
Waron, in disbelief, cursed quietly. "This isn't real! This is some nightmare," he thought. After a short moment, Naimad stood firmly on both feet. He didn't understand much of it himself, but he resolved one thing: now he would repay Waron for all the suffering he had inflicted.
Holding his sword in his right hand, which he had raised as he tried to stand, he glared at his opponent with a killer's gaze. They both now had only one goal: victory, at all costs. Hatred began to grow within the fire adept, and his sword once again ignited with a furious, orange flame.
Naimad's wound was gone. The bleeding stopped, and the hole healed without a scar, as if Waron had never pierced him in that spot.
His strength returned, flooding him with a wave of energy, which he immediately used. Leaping at his enemy, he began to deliver powerful blows with his sword, which the latter could barely block. The advantage now belonged to the warrior. Waron's surprise reached its zenith. His opponent, mortally wounded in the stomach, rejoined the fight, stronger than before.
Waron tried to launch a counterattack. He gathered his strength and attacked Naimad with short slashes. When he saw the blade approaching, Waron did a backflip on one hand, as his other hand was occupied, and then repeated the trick. He landed hard at the edge of the clearing and, seeing his enemy mindlessly slashing through the air, leaped high above him, creating a sort of somersault, and struck a blow
with his sword, which the surprised Waron barely managed to parry. Naimad's attack was beyond him. He would never have suspected him of possessing such power. The only explanation he could think of was the use of a strengthening potion, which had a delayed effect. Waron found no other explanation.
They clashed for a brief moment, during which the sorcerer looked his opponent in the eye. He was terrified by what he saw there. So it was him! He came for me! NO! I will not surrender, I will not give him my life without a fight!
Naimad pushed his opponent away and delivered a powerful kick to the ribs. Waron flew backward, slamming his back against the tree. He felt pain in his lower back, but he had no time to dwell on it, as Naimad, who had just leaped at the sorcerer, aimed a slash at his head. The sorcerer ducked his face just in time, saving it from the opponent's ruthless blow, which slammed into the tree trunk and severed it completely.
The severed part slid across the smooth surface of the now protruding stump and tumbled to the ground. Waron, in the path of the falling tree, had no chance of escaping. He threw himself to the side, hoping the tree's crown wouldn't fall towards him. Branches caught in the treetops, pushing the bulk of the falling wood away from them, simultaneously breaking more and more and scattering in all directions. Waron was unlucky. The large tree's crown fell directly on him, crushing him with its weight. Single branches pierced his flesh, and red goo began to flow from the wounds.
Naimad watched this sight without the slightest emotion. He didn't care how Waron died. Even if he expired, crushed by the tree's crown, he would approach him and check with his sword whether he had truly achieved his goal. He wasn't surprised when the air suddenly began to vibrate around the spot where the sorcerer lay. Small electric discharges radiated around the forming, translucent dome. Suddenly, all the branches within the sphere evaporated in the blink of an eye, leaving the air adept lying facedown on the ground.
Waron slowly rose and stood unsteadily on his feet. In a voice full of irritation and rage, he said,
"I've had enough! The very fact that you're alive is a disgrace to me. I'll end this now!"
Naimad listened intently to his interlocutor, who, in his opinion, was beginning to ramble.
In one great leap, he leaped several meters from Naimad, then, aiming his sword at him, summoned power. "I am more powerful!" Not him, he thought. He had nothing left to lose. If he died, he would have the satisfaction of having done everything in his power to defeat his enemy.
He spoke to the air silently. He asked for its strength, which would support him in battle and allow him to win. A soft rustle of wind answered him, whispering something directly in his ear. The hem of his robe began to ripple in the rising wind. He closed his eyes and focused the energy he had received, the amount of which began to almost overwhelm him. Naimad felt no fear. Something told him that even one of the most powerful air spells would not help Waron if a fire adept like him fell into a rage.
Gusts of wind buffeted the figures facing each other. Naimad's hair began to wave; he liked the feeling, but he paid it no mind at the moment. He focused on his opponent, who had sheathed his sword and, holding his hands in front of him at chest level, uttered spells incomprehensible to the fire mage.
Naimad felt energy fill his enemy, feeling threatened by his growing strength. He transferred the sword to his left hand, straightened his right elbow, and summoned his own power. A fireball formed in his hand, causing his entire arm to ignite along with it. He waited for the right moment.
Suddenly, what Waron had planned happened. Naimad had never seen such a phenomenon. The sorcerer's heavy body slowly rose a few centimeters from the ground. Suddenly, the air mage looked at the disoriented sorcerer. The sight shocked him even more. Waron's eyes looked like those of a blind old man. The entire eyeball was white with a hint of blue. They pierced with their depth and uniqueness.
Naimad stood prepared to repel the attack, but he couldn't explain what was happening around him. This world is incredible, he thought. Meanwhile, Waron had risen to such a height that he could touch the leaves of the nearest tree with his toes. He raised his arms and, with sheer force of will, caused gray, storm clouds to appear over the battlefield. The wind had been growing stronger since then, shaking not only individual leaves but entire trees.
A single flash of thunder pierced the dark sky. A moment later, the sound of thunder reached them, sending fear through Ksaia and the old witch. They were watching two battles simultaneously: one on the ground, the other high in the sky. The clouds obscured the dragon fighters to such an extent that only an occasional blurry flash could be seen from the center of one of the clouds.
Waron summoned the power of the thunder, which in that second struck his outstretched hands. A wave of power filled his body, transforming him into the image of an all-powerful god descending from the heavens to his subjects. Blue discharges coursed through his entire body, striking fear into everyone below.
Naimad didn't want to wait. He didn't know what Waron would be capable of if he took another dose of lightning. He hurled his fireball at his opponent, which, upon release, multiplied several times in size. The airbender glanced at the incoming projectile, which stopped a few dozen centimeters from him and vanished into thin air. Now Naimad wouldn't even get a chance to say goodbye, he thought. He reached out his hand toward him, and a split second later, a powerful bolt of lightning shot from his hand, striking the ground right next to the firebender's foot as he dodged the blow.
He crouched, caught his breath, and then rushed at his enemy, who began attacking him with deadly doses of pure lightning energy. Naimad leaped toward a tree trunk, then pushed off with both feet with all his might, flying straight at his opponent. Waron, recognizing the danger, drew his sword with a single movement of his hand and parried the fire mage's powerful blow at the last moment. The mage fell to the ground, cushioning his fall, and then spoke mockingly to the levitating Waron:
"You're so strong that you hide out of reach!? What kind of sorcerer are you?!
"I want you to die in pain," he replied, his voice slightly altered. "You'll see, this won't be pleasant at all!"
With these words, he dove down toward Naimad, then slammed his
sword, meeting his opponent's blade. He soared higher again and struck with a bolt of lightning. Naimad extended his hand toward the discharge and focused his power. The lightning bolt didn't stop for a moment, but striking the fire mage's hand, it bounced off and flew skyward. Naimad took a deep breath. He had never stopped such a powerful attack, delivered with such precision and force.
He decided to end this devastating duel. Waron was levitating too high to reach it. A devious idea occurred to him.
"Waron!" he said.
"Do you want to say something before you die!?" the air mage asked.
"Yes! I mean, I've never met such an idiot, arrogant, and impertinent person as you! Your last wish will be to die in great agony!
" "You've got that, fire salamander!"
"Time to do it! HOLD!"
Naimad spun around, then released
the sword in his right hand, which circled in the air and flew towards his enemy. Waron was greatly surprised by his opponent's thoughtlessness in dropping the weapon mid-fight. Now he had a chance to seize his blade, which would have contributed to Naimad's defeat in his last duel. He prepared to defend himself and, as the sword flew, easily blocked the blow.
At that moment, the unexpected happened. A powerful explosion echoed in the air. A white cloud enveloped the spot where Waron had been moments before. Naimad ruthlessly exploited his opponent's naivety for easy victories and attacked where he least expected it. A figure emerged from the cloud, wrapped in a bandage of smoke, and fell hard to the ground. The sword plunged into the ground near the cottage of an old witch, who stood frightened beside the distraught girl.
Naimad quickly ran to Ksai, but didn't even look at her. He snatched his sword, which, stained with soot, looked worn and worn. Waron slowly rose to his feet, incredulous at what had happened. He had fallen into such a foolish trap that it was embarrassing to even think about it. His sword lay a few meters away. He drew it and decided to take to the air again, but before he could even think about it, Naimad leaped at him and began raining blows, which he found increasingly difficult to block.
The airbender's eyes returned to their former state, and he began to feel weary. His opponent continued to attack him, striking with ever-increasing precision, and Waron's mind flashed with images of him lying defeated on the ground with a sword blade embedded in his chest.
Naimad felt exhaustion, but he ignored it. The most important thing was to fulfill his duty. Everything else was irrelevant. Whenever he shows weakness, it will be turned against him. As he struck, he summoned his power and delivered a final blow, then pushed his opponent's sword away and hurled a fireball from his left hand. The force of the blow pushed him back several meters, and his robe caught fire. After a moment's delay, a cold wind fell upon the prone figure, smothering the flames and refreshing the air he breathed.Waron quickly rose to his feet just as his opponent was rushing at him, sword poised. "He will not surrender! Naimad cannot win!" He attacked with his sword, which, meeting resistance from the enemy blade, stopped mid-range.
Both mages exerted all their strength to win this decisive clash. Veins bulged in their strong muscles, and sweat poured down their faces like a waterfall. They stared at each other with contempt, the fire of hatred burning in their eyes. Naimad's blazing sword singed Waron's hair slightly, but he paid no attention, completely absorbed in the fight.
Ksaia, disoriented for a long time, increasingly felt that none of this should have happened. She realized she shouldn't have done what she had done. To Naimad's detriment, it was Waron who she loved. The fire adept was, in her opinion, intrusive, restricting her personal freedom, yet he fought for her, risked his life, and was willing to do anything to have her return to him.
The old witch, astonished by the turn of events, could no longer predict who the victor of this duel would be. But she was certain that if Waron lost, she would be captured by his enemies or simply killed for her sorcerous predilections. Her hands trembled as she waited for the battle's outcome.
Above them, an equally dangerous battle was unfolding. Naimad's ally was dealing devastating blows to the riders of darkness. They were unable to repel the water mage's powerful attacks, for he had imbued his sword with the magic of the Holy Water of Hexunus, so feared by the wraiths. Without its rider, the dragon performed less well in direct combat, but it compensated for this weakness with attacks of fireballs, which it, as it were, spat from its throat.
Neither of them gave in. Naimad, straining with all his strength, thought nothing. His mind was like a blank book, ready to be written. Unlike his enemy, he paid little attention to the situation unfolding beside them. One of the wraiths struck the hard ground with great force and immediately burst into flames. Horse and rider howled as the hellfire consumed them. Suddenly, the howling ceased, and only dark gray ash remained.
Waron, using his last remaining strength, held Naimad back from taking the initiative, but he knew it wouldn't last long. His power proved too weak compared to his opponent's. He'd been mistaken about his own abilities. He'd believed that with his third-level magic, he could defeat a man of a lower rank. Unfortunately, it proved too much for him. He didn't understand it, but it no longer mattered. It certainly didn't matter now.
Suddenly, Waron felt a strong gust of wind, strange because the trees nearby hadn't even moved. The air heated to the point he could barely breathe. Despite this, he continued fighting with all his might. Something like an invisible energy wave struck Naimad and stunned his opponent. The warrior's skin softened and flowed down his body, simultaneously burning like a blazing bonfire. Not a single tissue, not a single muscle, remained. Everything melted incredibly quickly, almost evaporating. Only bare bones remained in their places. He couldn't believe his eyes. His enemy had transformed into a burning skeleton, still putting up a fierce resistance. Naimad was alive and had no intention of surrendering at that moment. Waron was stunned. He could no longer explain what had happened. He mentally tried to recall some farewell words, something he would say to Ksai if he could.
The creature, drowning in flames, opened its jaw and let out a terrible sound, several times more terrifying than the dragon's roar. Waron, terrified, pushed Naimad's sword away and backed away from him as far as he could. Unfortunately, he didn't have time to think of anything, as he was overcome with fear and choking on the air he was breathing. Meanwhile, the skeleton, gazing strangely at its enemy, let out that strange sound again, then attacked the trembling mage.
Waron, his mind clouded, couldn't concentrate on the fight. He barely parried two blows, then was afraid to launch a counterattack. The burning monster attacked again, this time from the side. The blow was blocked, and, taking advantage of a gap in his opponent's defense, Naimad spun around and struck the same spot where the sword's hilt had been. In that instant, everything returned to normal. There was no longer a burning skeleton, but the same powerful sorcerer with whom the airbender had fought for so long.
The severed stump fell to the ground, still clutching the heavy sword. Waron fell to his knees, holding the bleeding part of his body with his left hand. He tried with all his might not to let out a moan, as that would give his opponent the satisfaction of inflicting pain. However, the suffering was unbearable, and the sorcerer could not resist. His moans had no effect on the warrior. He readied his sword to decapitate his enemy, then said, as if in a voice not his own:
"I am he who comes to receive his due!" The sound was metallic and completely out of character for Naimad. "You have broken the promises you made to me! Your soul will never leave the Abyss again! Do you wish to say something, mortal?!
" "Aargh...go away," Waron choked out.
"I thought so." Naimad uttered these words in a gesture of triumph.
He slowly raised his sword, reveling in the sight of his victim's suffering, and then decided to end his life with a single blow. Ksaia suddenly stood before Waron. She shouted for him to stop the weapon, but stepped in the path of the blade. Naimad barely stopped the flying blade. Surprised, but still focused on his task, he spoke in a normal voice to the girl:
"Get out of the way! I don't want to—
" "Kill you?" Ksaia interrupted. "You will kill the person who saved your life?"
"What did you do?
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