Celestine gritted her teeth, feet planted firmly on the blazing wing of Regulus as her soles seared under a flame fiercer and more merciless than any fire she had ever known, each moment a fresh torture, yet she refused to yield even a single inch of ground. Her sword stayed fixed, piercing through the wing, her grip unwavering despite agony so intense it threatened to shred her consciousness. Regulus, silent and fierce, understanding the harsh necessity of her sacrifice, offered no words of comfort or relief; instead, he stoked the fire further, intensifying the blaze until it swallowed Celestine in unbearable, scorching torment.

  Her scream tore through the cavern, raw and wild, a cry of suffering that echoed endlessly against the cavern’s jagged walls. Her armor, once proud and glorious, a symbol of unwavering nobility, now began to darken and tarnish beneath the heat, smoldering like a dying star. Still, Celestine held fast, her voice breaking yet defiant as she stared down at Chaos, whose twisted visage strained beneath the oppressive flames.

  "Tell me, Chaos," Celestine spat through gritted teeth, her voice cracking under the pain yet still clear and venomous, "Does this feel good? Do you enjoy this feeling, the sensation of being killed? Is dying here as entertaining as your endless slaughter of my friends!?"

  Chaos offered no immediate answer, shadows writhing furiously around him, his monstrous form shuddering under the relentless pressure of Regulus's blazing wing and Celestine’s piercing blade. But as the princess’s white and rainbow-tinted blood evaporated into glittering trails of smoke, the shadows abruptly surged—pulsating in a sudden, eerie unison, each dark tendril twisting like serpents toward the flaming wing beneath Celestine’s tortured feet.

  The darkness began to siphon away, flowing rapidly inward, devoured relentlessly by the molten, searing wing of the Phoenix Knight. It was unnatural, utterly wrong, the shadows being drained away until none remained. The cavern, for a breathless moment, stood illuminated with impossible clarity, as if a blinding sun hung suspended directly above. Every detail, from the scorched stone walls to the bloodstains beneath the wounded knights, became vividly clear, yet terrifyingly incomplete. For despite the brilliant light filling the cavern, no shadows were cast anywhere—not beneath their feet, not behind their bodies, nowhere.

  Celestine’s breath caught sharply in her throat, a chilling dread crawling down her spine, far colder and deeper than the burning agony she had endured moments before. Her golden eyes widened, terror blooming at the edges of her resolve as she watched the world stripped of all its darkness, left raw and naked beneath an unnatural illumination. She barely had a heartbeat to process the horrific sight before the silence shattered violently, and the darkness, as if enraged by its forced exile, erupted forth once more.

  With a cataclysmic burst of raw, seething power, the blazing wing shattered outward, sending Celestine tumbling violently through the air, crashing painfully onto the cavern floor, her blade clattering sharply across stone. Regulus staggered back, armor cracked and melting, his breaths coming heavy and ragged as he steadied himself, fighting against exhaustion and injury.

  Then the world plunged into absolute, suffocating darkness—a darkness deeper and heavier than any night, thick enough to choke even the faintest glimmer of hope from the hearts of all who stood within its oppressive embrace. For a fleeting moment, everyone felt as though their eyes had been sealed shut, lost in utter blindness, unable even to sense the presence of those beside them.

  Slowly, painfully, that darkness lessened, peeling back layer by grim layer until finally Chaos stood revealed once more. His blackened robes hung scorched and tattered, wounds and molten damage marring the once-impenetrable fabric of shadow he wore, his chains dripping molten darkness onto the cavern floor.

  Yet despite his injuries, despite the pain etched subtly into the edges of his monstrous form, his burning crimson eyes remained unchanged—alive, hungry, and burning with a malevolence that seemed only strengthened by the brutality of the battle.

  He straightened himself slowly, deliberately, a twisted amusement flickering briefly across his dark visage. His voice, deep and chilling, rippled forth through the cavern, each word echoing like the rusted chime of some forgotten, haunted bell.

  "Do not mistake a setback for defeat," Chaos hissed with dark confidence, his gaze shifting slowly between the wounded Regulus and the battered Celestine, savoring the damage done. "The night is long yet, princess, and you, Phoenix, shall learn that shadows are patient. They wait for your flames to fade."

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  Celestine moved the instant those words left his twisted mouth, her golden form blazing with sudden defiance, her sword of radiant light cleaving the air as she surged forward like a comet. Chaos, anticipating her desperate strike, reacted with effortless cruelty—one hand flashing out like a viper, catching her rapier mid-thrust, his monstrous fingers wrapping around the blade that had once burned him.

  Before the radiant weapon could truly dig into him, before its light could sear another wound across his flesh, Chaos twisted with savage grace, flipping Celestine's entire body off the ground using the captured momentum of her own strike, hurling her through the stifling air like a broken doll.

  In the same motion, he summoned forth a volley of blackened chains, dozens of them, each moving faster than mortal sight could follow, snaking outward in wicked arcs. They coiled around Celestine mid-flight, wrapping her wrists, ankles, and waist in a brutal web, and with a final, vicious yank, Chaos slammed her into the cavern wall, binding her there with such force that cracks spiderwebbed through the stone behind her limp, struggling form. Her sword, still radiant even in capture, flickered weakly in her chained grip, her teeth clenched in furious helplessness.

  Regulus, roaring with fresh fury, ignored his wounds and charged once again, but Chaos turned with a sneer and whipped a chain from his free arm. The black tendril lanced forward, striking Regulus square in the chestplate, embedding into the scarred armor with a hideous, tearing sound that echoed across the cavern.

  With one sharp tug, Chaos yanked the wounded Phoenix Knight into the air like a ragdoll, his body jerking helplessly against the grip of the shadow-forged chain still buried deep in his armor. Then, like a merciless puppet master, Chaos slammed him into the cavern floor with a thunderous crack. The ground shook.

  Dust exploded outward. But Chaos wasn’t finished. He dragged Regulus up again, higher this time, and smashed him down once more. And again. And again. Each impact shattered stone, each collision a brutal punctuation of dominance and disdain. "You were born to be beautiful, Phoenix — but never strong enough to fly free."

  A brutal rhythm was born—Regulus soaring through the air only to be ripped back and beaten against the floor, a dance of pure violence orchestrated by Chaos with terrifying ease. Each blow sent gouts of flame sputtering from Regulus’s battered form, the light dimming with every savage slam, his armor cracking, his cape torn to fluttering embers.

  And yet, even in the midst of that relentless punishment, as Chaos lifted Regulus once more for what should have been the final, ruinous blow, he was struck.

  A sudden impact, sharp and jarring, connected with the side of his monstrous head, snapping his gaze violently to the side and making him stumble a half step, his concentration faltering. Chaos reeled, chains loosening slightly, and in that fraction of a second he realized with a snarl of recognition that the blow had come not from some magical intervention, not from a hidden Liberator or an unseen power, but from the same stubborn, bleeding human who had somehow refused to die from before.

  Chaos turned his burning crimson gaze to find Kaiser standing behind him, barely upright, his body still pierced by broken chains that jutted grotesquely from his limbs and torso. The human’s clothes were torn to shreds, his body drenched in blood both fresh and drying, yet his crimson eyes remained steady, bright, and horrifyingly alive. There was no fear there, no hesitation, no weakness, only the same cold, relentless hunger for the fight.

  For a moment, Chaos felt a flicker of intrigue sharpen against his otherwise endless disdain, a grudging note of respect souring the back of his mind. How many had fallen after a fraction of the wounds he had inflicted? How many had begged or broken under less? And yet this one—this one stood still, his fists clenched tight, ready to strike again, ready to defy inevitability itself.

  Still, Chaos reminded himself grimly, whatever this anomaly was, it was irrelevant. Kaiser had no weapon. He wielded no Sol that could match a true threat. And right now, the Phoenix of the North was at the edge of collapse, and Celestine hung helplessly against the wall, her light flickering with every struggling breath. Kaiser was nothing more than a nuisance compared to the prize that lay before him now.

  With a guttural sound, Chaos shoved Regulus backward, letting the battered knight collapse heavily to the ground in a heap of molten, steaming armor. Pulling his massive hand back, he placed his palm against Kaiser’s bloodied chest without a shred of ceremony. There was a hideous sound, like a hundred knives piercing flesh, as dozens more black chains erupted from Chaos’s palm, skewering through Kaiser’s broken body, suspending him in the air like a puppet on a thousand cruel strings.

  With a disdainful grunt, Chaos kicked Kaiser away like discarded garbage, sending the wounded man crashing violently across the cavern floor. Blood spattered in a grim trail behind him, and the sickening sound of his landing echoed in the heavy silence that followed.

  Turning away from the wreckage of Kaiser, Chaos refocused himself, eyes narrowing upon Celestine once more. Her light still burned, weak but unyielding, her defiant gaze never leaving him even as she fought against the chains that bound her.

  “Good.” Chaos thought with grim satisfaction. “Let them all see. Let their hope die slowly, crushed under the endless weight of the night.”

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