Inside the capital, Ben’s golems tore through streets and alleys.
So ripped out rune pillars from under plazas.
So punched into the ground, crushing buried formation lines.
So climbed the walls of inner towers and stabbed their arms into glowing cores.
A cannon that should have aid at the sky suddenly turned and blasted a side tower.
Another tried to fire and exploded at the base, taking half of its own platform with it.
Priests ran from altar to altar, shouting orders.
"Stabilize the western ring!Shut those golems down!"
But each ti they tried to fix things, another one was already broken.
At the heart of the city, the Primordial Fla altar burned.
Flas rose like a column, chained by layers of black stone and dark-colored sigils.
The fire did not stay in one shape.
Sotis a bird, sotis a blade.
The air shook.
The Ash King walked out of the altar hall.
He looked like a walking furnace.
His armor was glowing from the inside.
Every breath he took sent sparks into the air.
Behind him, the Primordial Fla stretched, then snapped back like sothing held on a leash.
He lifted his hand.
A golem that had reached the inner corridor rushed at him, arms raised.
The Ash King clenched his fist.
Golden fire burst out.
The golem lted in one hit.
Its body turned into slag and ash, falling apart before it hit the ground.
He swung his arm once.
A wave of fire rolled down the hall.
Three more golems were caught in it and burned clean through, cores and all.
"Annoying toys," he said.
He stepped out of the hall and into the open inner plaza.
At that mont, space in front of the capital gate twisted.
Ben, Elvira, and Draeven landed on cracked stone.
Ben’s eyes locked onto the altar at once.
He could feel the Primordial Fla like a heartbeat.
Draeven felt sothing else.
The Ash King stood on the steps, looking down at them.
"Another traitor. Like father, like son."
Draeven’s jaw tightened.
"Do not speak about my father," he said.
He stepped forward.
"You are the one who betrayed your people first."
Golden fire flared around the Ash King’s shoulders.
"My people live because of ," he said.
"Without they would have died long ago.
All of you exist for .
That was your reason."
"You don’t even see them as fellow nephirid," Draeven snapped.
Elvira’s eyes focused on the primordial fla, studying it.
Ben kept his gaze on the altar.
The Primordial Fla behind the Ash King flickered.
Cracks of light ran along the black stone pillars.
’It’s unstable,’ Ben thought.
The Ash King raised his hand.
"Enough," he said.
"This is your last chance. Kill these intruder. Or burn with the others."
Draeven answered by slamming his shovel on the ground.
Purple mist rose around him.
"I will never kneel to you again."
Ben lifted the Empyrean Pickaxe.
Elvira’s eyes narrowed, filled with hatred.
She spread her hands. Small circles ford around her, already spinning.
"If I kill you now, you will never invade my people."
The Ash King’s aura rose.
The plaza floor blackened under his feet.
Flas pooled like liquid tal around his boots, then rose up, forming a cloak of ash and gold.
"Then die."
One step.
He appeared in front of Draeven, fist already swinging.
BAM!!!
Draeven raised his shovel in ti, but the hit still threw him across the plaza.
He smashed into a broken wall and went straight through it, stone exploding around him.
The Ash King did not chase him.
He turned his body and hurled a wave of golden fire at Ben.
Ben crossed the pickaxe in front of him.
BOOM!!!
Fla swallowed him.
The ground under his feet turned red, then white.
For a few breaths, nothing could be seen.
Then dark aether surged.
The fire split.
Ben stepped out from the middle, skin burned and peeling, but already regenerating.
Dark scales crawled up his arm.
His pupils narrowed, glowing faint purple.
"Good heat," he said.
"It sting."
The Ash King’s eyes narrowed a little.
He raised his hand again.
Four pillars of fla shot up around Ben and closed in.
Elvira snapped her fingers.
"Dissolve."
Circles flashed under the pillars.
The fire twisted, losing shape.
So of it fell apart into raw mana, so simply slid sideways, leaving a gap.
Ben jumped through it.
He swung the pickaxe at the Ash King’s chest.
CLANG!!!
A layer of compressed fla blocked the hit.
Sparks flew out in a ring.
The Ash King pushed back with one hand.
Ben’s body was flung back, but he caught himself by planting the pickaxe in the ground and sliding, leaving a long cut in the stone.
At the edge of the plaza, Draeven pushed broken stones off his back and stood.
He breathed out, then roared.
Golden fla flared along his arms.
The Primordial Fla inside his body answered the call, rising in sync with the altar.
He shot forward.
The Ash King’s eyes moved to him.
"Still using the gift I gave you," he said.
Draeven’s eyes were cold.
"It’s not yours!"
Their weapons t.
BOOM!!!
The shovel and a burning fist collided.
Flas spread across Draeven’s armor.
Purple mist wrapped around the Ash King’s arm.
Dispersing his energy.
For a mont, they held each other.
Then Ben appeared at the king’s back.
The pickaxe ca down.
CRACK!!!
It bit into the armor, carving a deep line along the Ash King’s side.
Golden blood and fla burst out together.
The Ash King twisted his body and kicked.
The kick hit Ben in the stomach.
BAM!!!
Ben’s body bent around the blow.
He spat blood and flew back, smashing into a fallen statue.
His chest caved in and then slowly popped back out, bones knitting with wet cracks.
"Annoying," the Ash King said.
anwhile the fla priest start gathering around the plaza edge, staves pointed inward, preparing a massive support spell.
Circles lit up under their feet.
Elvira raised her hand.
"Domain - Absolute Magic Control," Elvira said.
A huge, layered circle exploded above the plaza.
Lines spread over the priests’ circles and cut straight through them.
The chant broke.
Their spells fell apart into sparks.
"What is this...?" one of them gasped.
"Domain control," another priest hissed.
Elvira’s eyes were cold.
"Stay out of this," she said.
Draeven rained blows on the Ash King.
The shovel whistled through the air, leaving purple trails.
BAM! BAM! BAM!!!
The Ash King blocked with forearms and shoulders, flas hardening into armor with every impact.
So hits pushed him back.
So he let through, letting the flas cut into Draeven’s armor in return.
"You grew strong," he said.
"Stronger than your father."
Draeven’s eyes burned.
"My father never begged you for power," he said.
"He begged you to stop."
The Ash King answered with another punch.
This ti, the fla around his arm condensed into a straight line.
The hit felt like a spear.
It pierced Draeven’s chest.
Blood and golden fire burst out from his back.
He coughed blood.
His vision blurred.
Then the Primordial Fla inside his body roared.
The wound burned.
His flesh started to close around the hole, flas stitching him together.
The Ash King’s eyes widened a little.
"The primordial fla is not yours," he said.
Draeven grinned weakly.
"Then take it back," he said.
"If you can."
Ben rejoined the fight from the side.
His body shifted further.
Dark scales spread down his neck and across his chest.
Bone spikes pushed out along his spine and elbows.
He looked less human.
More like sothing between a man and a daemon beast.
Dark aether wrapped around his legs.
He blurred forward.
The pickaxe swung for the Ash King’s neck.
The king caught the shaft with one hand.
Fire and darkness t.
The stone around them cracked and sank.
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