The battlefield trembled under the weight of three monstrous forces clashing. Kael. Zyrran. Isaroth. Warriors of legend, locked in a battle that threatened to tear Eldris apart.


    Kael charged first, ignoring the pain searing through his wounds. His golden eyes burned with defiance, his fists clenched, his body refusing to yield. He was battered, bleeding, but he would never stop. He was Kael Solvain—his will was unbreakable.


    Zyrran followed in perfect sync, his movements fluid, ghostlike. The shadow of death itself. While Kael was raw power, a raging storm that crushed anything in its path, Zyrran was precision. Efficiency. Every arrow he loosed whistled through the air with deadly intent, each shot aimed for a weakness.


    Isaroth stood his ground, his eyes burning with amusement and fury. His power was overwhelming, his strikes like tidal waves crashing against stone. His fists shattered the very air, his kicks sent shockwaves through the ground. For every blow Kael and Zyrran landed, Isaroth returned with twice the force.


    Kael lunged, his punch a blur. Isaroth caught his wrist mid-swing and twisted, sending Kael flying into the side of a ruined wall. Before he could capitalize on it, a black arrow whistled through the air, aiming for his throat.


    Isaroth leaned back just in time, the arrow slicing a thin red line across his cheek.


    "Tch." He wiped the blood away, his grin widening. "Not bad."


    Zyrran loosed another, but this time Isaroth caught it mid-air. His grip pulsed with dark energy, snapping the arrow in half as he charged forward.


    Kael burst from the rubble, meeting him head-on. Their fists collided, the impact sending a concussive blast through the battlefield, forcing soldiers and demons alike to stagger.


    "You don’t know when to stay down, do you?" Isaroth growled, throwing a devastating knee into Kael’s ribs. The sound of cracking bone filled the air, but Kael only grinned, blood dripping from his mouth.


    "You’ll have to do better than that."


    With a roar, he grabbed Isaroth’s leg, lifting him off the ground, and slammed him into the earth with monstrous force. The ground shattered beneath the impact.


    Isaroth coughed, spitting blood, but his grin never faded.


    "That’s more like it."


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    Before Kael could strike again, Isaroth erupted upward, his Astra flaring around him like a storm of hellfire.


    "ENOUGH!"


    He swung, and Kael barely had time to block before he was sent skidding backward. Zyrran took the opening, loosing five arrows in rapid succession, each glowing with dark Astra.


    Isaroth dodged three, deflected one—but the last struck deep into his shoulder.


    He snarled, ripping the arrow free, the wound sealing instantly.


    "You’re starting to piss me off, Nyktris."


    Zyrran nocked another arrow, unfazed. "Good. Then I won’t have to listen to your monologues."


    The battle surged forward once more—


    But on the sidelines, Elian was motionless.


    The world around him was chaos, but Elian wasn’t looking at it anymore. He was looking inside.


    Power. It was there. Inside him. Waiting. Burning. Begging to be unleashed.


    But every time he’d touched it before, he had lost control. He had felt it take hold, threatening to consume him.


    Not this time.


    He clenched his fists, his breathing steadying. He focused.


    A memory surfaced—


    Nyroth stood before him, his crimson eyes unreadable as the torches of the training hall flickered around them.


    "Astrae is not just power, Elian. It is balance. If you lean too far into either Lux or Nox, you will lose yourself. But if you accept both…" Nyroth raised a single hand, and before Elian''s eyes, light and darkness intertwined, forming a sphere of perfect harmony. "Then you will become something greater."


    Elian, younger then, had clenched his fists. "But how do I control it?"


    Nyroth had smiled. "You don’t. You become it. He felt the Astra within him pulse—Lux and Nox, light and dark, twin forces locked in eternal struggle.


    The battle was at its peak. Kael and Zyrran were holding their own, but barely. Isaroth’s strength was endless, his attacks relentless.


    Everything stopped.


    A shockwave pulsed through the battlefield, stronger than anything before. Kael and Zyrran turned—eyes widening.


    Elian stood at the edge of the battle, his form wreathed in light and shadow. His Astrae form, fully realized.


    "What—" Isaroth barely had time to react before Elian moved.


    No sword. No weapon. Just a punch.


    Elian’s fist connected with Isaroth’s chest.


    For a single, frozen moment, the battlefield fell silent.


    Then—


    A cataclysmic explosion of force.


    Isaroth was launched across the battlefield, tearing through the ground, through walls, through everything in his path. The very air seemed to distort, the shockwave sending warriors and demons crashing to their knees.


    He didn’t stop.


    Not until he slammed into the farthest border of Eldris, right at the gates of the still-open portal.


    Kael and Zyrran stood in absolute disbelief. Neither had seen it. Neither had even understood what just happened.


    Elian lowered his fist, his breathing calm. He stood there, Astrae form still active, perfectly controlled.


    For the first time, he had not been controlled by his power. He had mastered it.


    Across the battlefield, Isaroth slowly rose from the crater where he had landed, stunned, bleeding, laughing.


    "Well… that was unexpected." He wiped the blood from his lip, his eyes flickering toward the portal behind him. "Seems like my time is up."


    His gaze met Elian’s, and instead of shock, there was something else—satisfaction.


    Then, with a smirk, he stepped backward, his form disappearing into the portal. "That''s it. That''s what I wanted to see. It is true, then. Magnificent."


    "I’ll be back."


    The portal snapped shut behind him.


    The battle was over.


    Kael exhaled, shaking his head. "What the fuck just happened?"


    Zyrran said nothing. He only stared at Elian, something new in his eyes.


    Respect.


    Elian exhaled, his Astrae form flickering, then fading. His vision blurred, his body swayed. He barely registered the sensation of falling—until he landed in someone''s arms.


    Zyrran.


    For a moment, it seemed like Zyrran might hold him, but then, with a look of disinterest, he unceremoniously dropped Elian like dead weight.


    Kael, reacting purely on instinct, caught Elian mid-fall. "Are you fucking serious?!" he snapped at Zyrran.


    Zyrran smirked, shrugging. "He’s still breathing. He’ll be fine." He had done it. He had finally controlled it.


    For the first time, he didn’t fear his own power.


    He embraced it.