༺ The Fractured City XV ༻
A presence like a curse fell over the tower.
Rowan and Elyssa stood frozen. The silhouette behind them stepped forward—each step echoing like a countdown. The flames crackled in the distance. The tower groaned.
He emerged from the darkness: a knight clad in a dark grey armor that gleamed with charred elegance, the edges dulled by ash and time. Wrapped around his neck, a translucent red scarf fluttered like a lingering ember in the wind. He held two chakram, each rim forged to lethal perfection.
His voice rang clear and terrible.
"The embers dance, the veil falls… and fire does not ask for mercy."
"I am Kael Emberveil. You burn now."
And with that—he scraped one blade against the other. Sparks shrieked from the contact, and in an instant, those sparks ignited. The chakram burst into fire, a heat that shimmered against the air like reality itself had begun to warp.
Kael launched forward—no warning, no hesitation.
Elyssa moved purely on instinct. She grabbed Rowan by the arm and dove to the side. The chakram cut through the space they had just occupied, leaving a glowing slash of fire in its wake. The strike tore through steel and stone with ease, carving a smoking line into the tower floor.
Rowan winced, his body still not fully recovered from the last encounter.
"Get my blade!" he gasped, eyes narrowing.
Elyssa turned, sprinting. Her stiletto clutched in one hand, she shielded him with the other. Kael's chakram came flying again. Elyssa barely deflected it—but the price was immediate.
Shatter.
Her stiletto broke apart in her hands, fragments scattering across the floor. Kael caught the returning chakram effortlessly, spinning it once as if to test its weight. He didn't hesitate. Flames burst from his armor, jets of flame erupting from joints and seams. Then—without a word—he propelled himself backward and off the tower's edge.
"What—" Elyssa began, stopping in place.
There was silence.
Kael stood still for a moment, the eerie silence of the ruined tower hanging in the air. His chakram glinted in the dim light, the edges catching the slightest reflection of moonlight. But as Kael slowly began to move, a shift took place—a barely perceptible change that seemed to ripple through the air.
The flames on his armor began as nothing extraordinary. They were the flames of a forge—ordinary, red and orange, crackling with heat. At first, they were a simple, fiery halo around his body. The kind of flames that could ignite anything, but not much more than that.
His chakram, held loosely in his grasp, caught the fiery glow. The metal hummed with a familiar warmth, its edges glowing with the standard flicker of a blade in fire. It was dangerous, certainly—anyone in the tower's proximity would feel the heat and pressure—but it was still manageable.
And then… the flames began to change.
First, it was a subtle shift—a deepening in the color of the fire. It moved from red to blue, like the calm, cold fire of a gas stove igniting.
Blue.
Pure.
Sharp.
The change was so sudden it almost felt like the flames had a mind of their own. They roared louder now, expanding in size and intensity. The air around them began to shimmer and distort as if the very atmosphere couldn't withstand the temperature.
And then, without warning, the blue flames turned—growing darker, deeper, more intense. A bluish-violet hue began to dominate, flickering and twisting in patterns of destructive grace. It was no longer the warmth of a fire; this was something colder, more volatile. Something that felt unnatural.
The heat that had once been oppressive now became unbearable. It pressed against Rowan and Elyssa like a wall of molten metal, suffocating and inescapable. Every inch of air burned. Even the stones beneath their feet felt as if they might melt at any moment.
Kael's figure remained high above them, his body shrouded by the thick, pulsating flames. His armor now seemed to ripple with the very essence of this new, unnerving fire, as though his entire being was a conduit for something far beyond natural flame.
Rowan felt his heart skip a beat. The overwhelming intensity of the flames was no longer just heat—it was a force. A suffocating, destructive force that seemed to be gathering power by the second.
Rowan reacted fast.
System Online.
Stats shimmered into his vision.
Strength: +4
Speed: +3
Durability: +3
Beneath that, a pool of 175 points, most of it earned from the slaughter of high-ranking Ruinborns.
Kael raised his chakram—one ready to throw.
Rowan's eyes widened. "Elyssa, MOVE!"
He dropped 60 points into Durability.
Strength: +4
Speed: +3
Durability: +15
115 Points Remaining
Time slowed.
Rowan staggered forward on legs of lead and pain. Elyssa reached for the keris—but Rowan tackled her aside. The chakram, a blazing wheel of destruction, slashed through the tower roof.
Rowan caught it on his cross guard stance, the blade roaring down on him. The heat seared his skin, even through enhanced durability. And then—
Impact.
The force of the hit threw Rowan through the tower, the chakram dragging him downward like a divine punishment. The lower floors shattered as he crashed through them, and then—
BOOM.
The tower's base erupted. An explosion of fire and shockwave decimated the surrounding blocks. Buildings collapsed in a chain of ruin, three deep in every direction.
Elyssa stood alone on the burning half of the tower still standing, flames licking at her boots. Below, a crater gaped like a wound, glowing bluish-violet.
Kael hovered above it all—motionless. Suspended in the air like a god passing judgment.
"Perhaps there's more to you than ash and luck… or perhaps not."
Rowan coughed blood, his body broken but alive. The crater was deep. The air was heavy with heat and smoke.
He grit his teeth.
System Interface. Add 45 points to Strength.
Strength: +13
Speed: +3
Durability: +15
70 Points Remaining
Kael moved again. A punch, this time. Nothing flashy—just pure destructive intent.
Rowan stood and met it head-on. Their fists collided midair, the resulting shockwave collapsing what few buildings still stood. A second wave of destruction rippled out. The bluish-violet flames roared higher, wrapping the crater in a dome of inferno. No one would enter now. No one would leave.
Kael tilted his head, his face unreadable behind his helm.
Elyssa, still stranded on the burning remains of the clock tower, looked to the sky—desperation in her eyes.
And then—a flicker of hope.
A shape appeared far above—barely visible through the smoke and heat haze. A helicopter. It descended fast, blades cutting through smoke and cinders. A rope ladder dropped.
A voice echoed over the rotors.
"Elyssa! Get up here!"
She turned toward it, eyes wide. The man at the side of the aircraft wore a military uniform—well-worn, his expression calm but urgent.
"Noel," she breathed. "Just in time."
She leapt, grabbed the rope, and began to climb. The fire licked at her heels, but she didn't look back. Once aboard, she collapsed into the seat beside Noel.
"Glad you're alive," he said, giving her a quick thumbs-up.
Meanwhile, the battle below raged on.
Kael stood inside the ring of fire, unmoving. Across from him, Rowan pulled himself from the rubble of the crater. Blood matted his hair, his breath ragged. The keris in his hand glowed faintly from heat.
This was no longer a fight.
It was war.
The fire around them hissed like it was alive. The violet-blue barrier pulsed with energy, licking the sky. Kael said nothing—but his silence was louder than any threat.
Rowan steadied his stance.
He didn't know if he'd survive the next minute.
But he wasn't planning to run.
Not anymore.