A cutting silence swept across the mountain—not the absence of sound, but the anticipation of a universe holding its breath.
The snow, which had lazily spun in slow spirals, froze in midair for a second.
Then... it fell upward.
As if even gravity had forgotten which side was down.
From above.
A hooded figure descended, slow as the omen of an ending.
His purple cloak unraveled at the edges like cosmic smoke, his eyes glowing with spectral gold—like sunlight trapped in shattered glass.
"Ah... they finally sent someone with a brain," muttered Harry, spitting dry blood as he plucked a snowflake from his hair.
Dorian raised his eyes with the calm of someone who already knew.
Vael simply sighed.
"The Arcanist of Thar-Miil," Dorian said, as bored as one reciting the name of a bad book.
"Specialist in arcane reinforcement, mental manipulation, and illusion," added Harry, like reciting from a magical encyclopedia.
"And a terrible storyteller," concluded Vael.
The woman who had been fighting Harry dropped to her knees before the newcomer, bloodied.
"Master Rhelor... forgive me"
"Silence" His voice was a scalpel.
Cold. Precise. Unquestionable.
"You've shamed the Red Tower"
The sky split—literally.
Ethereal rifts tore the heavens like hungry eyes.
From them, things fell.
Not beings. Not creatures.
Manifestations of fear.
Gargoyles made of living shadow.
Spirits armored in nonexistent steel.
Avatars of forgotten thoughts.
Three of these entities dove at Vael.
He stepped back twice.
And vanished. Like darkness dissolving into itself.
He reappeared behind one of the specters.
"Never scream before attacking"
Thrust. The creature split in two.
Another roared.
Vael twisted with elegant grace, touched the ground.
"Use the terrain. It won't betray you"
The creature's shadow rose like a spear and pierced its own skull.
The third hesitated.
Vael turned, his eyes now red as forbidden wine.
"Never fight a vampire... in his own home"
The shadows around him howled.
The battlefield became his extension.
Each step, a slash.
Each gesture, an execution.
Elsewhere, Harry was conjuring like a cosmic carnival.
"Runic Defragmentation"
"Breath of Ozymandias"
"Vortex of Impossible Colors"
The woman tried to counter, but reality around her melted.
The floor became the ceiling.
The snow became smoke.
Her scream... distorted, as if sung in reverse.
"When a mage laughs..." whispered Harry, eyes gleaming with contained madness, "...it's never a good sign"
He spun in the air, launched by a spell, and hurled a spear of pure chaos.
It struck a specter.
Time froze for three seconds—just long enough for Harry to teleport and leave an explosive rune on the woman's forehead.
Silence.
Boom.
Reality screamed to remember how it worked.
---
Rhelor floated toward Dorian like a fallen god.
"Dorian d'Argêntea. Heir to the Crimson Throne. Son of ancient blood," he mocked, sneering.
"You talk too much" Dorian raised his hand.
The space between them collapsed.
Rhelor staggered, spinning in the air, then stabilized.
Ten magic circles spun around him like orbiting moons.
"I taught time to count"
Dorian whispered,
"Chrono-Kleth"
Time stopped.
Rhelor froze, the circles still spinning... slow as tears on glass.
Dorian walked forward.
Each step shattered reality beneath his feet.
"Space is a board. And I am the king"
He reached Rhelor and touched his forehead with two fingers.
"You should've stayed home"
The touch exploded in ruptures.
Rifts collapsed around Rhelor.
He broke the seal with a spell and the two collided in a blast of colors that didn't exist in the real world.
The battlefield became a living scar.
Broken mirrors reflected unwanted realities.
Twelve new warriors emerged from the rifts.
Specialists. Coordinated. Lethal.
At the center, a woman with moonlit hair—holding a double spear made of frozen mana.
Vael removed his gloves.
"Practical lessons, then"
His eyes burned like blood moons.
One attacked with a flaming spear.
Vael dodged with the mere tilt of a shoulder.
"Too predictable"
He grabbed the spear. Snapped it.
The opponent's shadow gripped Vael's ankles.
Another hurled a magic chain.
Vael let it wrap around him.
He smiled.
"Weapons... are lies you tell yourselves"
He pulled.
Strike to the chest.
The heart exploded like pressured glass.
The last hesitated.
Vael did not.
He appeared behind him.
Bit.
Subtle.
Cruel.
Lethal.
"Final lesson: ignored fear is a blessing.
But fed... it's a banquet"
---
Harry now faced three mages—one of fire, one of air, one of earth.
"Three on one?" he laughed, spitting a tooth. "How cute"
He opened his grimoire.
"Spell 77: Cubic Distortion with Kelvin's Bipolar Resonance.
Oh... and Spell 3: Go Boom"
The ground became a vortex.
Mouths.
Eyes.
Living runes.
Fire burned the pyro.
Air imploded the aerial.
And earth... turned to mud.
Harry closed the book, panting.
"That... was beautiful"
---
Dorian now faced the colossus.
Armored. Runic. A titan.
The hammer flew.
The ground groaned.
Dorian walked.
And on the final step...
"Thur-Vianeth"
Reality turned against the warrior.
Gravity inverted.
Sound died.
Light flickered.
His body shattered between mirrors.
When everything returned...
only a scarlet blur floated in the air.
---
The last group advanced.
Twelve warriors. One general.
Dorian snapped his fingers.
"Time to end this"
Vael charged first.
The shadows howled.
Harry laughed.
"Final spell: All or nothing, bitch"
Dorian closed his eyes.
"Only silence... must remain"
And at the ritual altar,
Lígia stopped writhing.
Her skin pulsed with white and silver light.
Veins danced.
Heart... beat like a war drum.
Auren smiled.
His teeth, made of dead stars, glinted.
"Ready or not...
The night woke with you, little one"