He twisted his body, breaking the clash and slamming his elbow into Baldur's jaw. The Ox King barely flinched—but Cain followed it up with a vicious upward slash, catching his chest plate and tearing a gash through the reinforced metal.

Baldur stumbled back, looked down at the wound, and laughed. The sound was thunder itself—raw and deranged. "Finally! That's it, little godling! More!"

Cain's wings flared again, the storm swirling with them. His pulse thundered in his ears, drowning out the world. He'd forgotten the pain. He'd forgotten the exhaustion. All that mattered now was the man in front of him—and the fact that one of them wouldn't be walking away.

Rain battered the shattered landscape as Cain stood amidst the wreckage, chest heaving. The clash with Baldur had scorched the ground, splitting the plaza in half, but neither warrior seemed satisfied. The storm above only mirrored the violence that churned beneath their skin.

Lightning struck somewhere behind them. The flash illuminated the battlefield—corpses half-submerged in mud, collapsed towers still burning, soldiers too injured to run crawling through the sludge. The rain did nothing to wash away the blood.

Baldur grinned through his cracked helmet, teeth glinting between split lips. "You bleed well," he said, his voice a rumble that carried even through the wind. "But you're holding back."

Cain spat to the side, blood and rain mixing in his mouth. "You talk too much."

With a step that shattered the wet stone, Cain launched forward. Eidwyrm screamed through the air, carving a golden arc of Ki that split the rain like a curtain. Baldur met him halfway, his axe swinging wide. The collision ignited a shockwave that blew the rain sideways, forming a hollow dome of dry air for a brief, impossible second.

Cain twisted under the follow-up strike, slamming his knee into Baldur's ribs. The Ox King grunted, spinning his axe and backhanding Cain across the face. The force sent Cain sliding through the mud, carving a long trench before his boots dug into the ground and stopped him.

The rain hit his skin like acid. The world pulsed in rhythm with his heartbeat—boom, boom, boom—until even sound itself seemed to sync with the pounding in his skull.

Ruby's roar cut through the noise. The crimson beast swooped from the clouds, flame leaking from her throat despite the downpour. Her wings beat once, throwing waves of hot air across the battlefield. Baldur shielded his face, and in that instant Cain moved again.

He closed the distance faster than sight, Eidwyrm gleaming as it sliced through the storm. The blade crashed into Baldur's shoulder, biting deep. Sparks exploded, metal grinding against divine-forged armor, and for the first time, the Ox King stumbled back a full step.

Baldur's expression twisted—not in pain, but exhilaration. He ripped the axe free and drove it toward Cain's chest. Cain barely caught the shaft, muscles screaming as he forced it aside. The ground under their feet caved in, swallowing them into a crater of shattered stone.

Down there, the noise of battle faded. All that remained was the hammering of their weapons, the hiss of steam, and the low growl of beasts fighting far away.

Cain's breath came in ragged bursts. His vision flickered at the edges, each blink slower than the last. Baldur's presence was crushing, a constant reminder of just how inhuman he was.

"You'll break before I do," Baldur growled.

"Maybe," Cain said, smiling faintly. "But you'll fall first."

He slammed the pommel of his blade into Baldur's throat, following with an upward slash that tore across the Ox King's chin and sent blood spraying into the rain. Baldur stumbled, laughing even as he coughed red.

Cain didn't stop. He moved with savage rhythm—cut, dodge, thrust, parry—every motion honed by exhaustion into something raw and instinctive. Baldur met every strike head-on, absorbing punishment like stone absorbs weather.

Their weapons collided again, and this time Cain didn't pull back. He pushed forward, Ki bursting from his arms, golden light pouring from Eidwyrm's edge. The energy melted the ground around them, and the rain turned to steam.

Baldur gritted his teeth and forced Cain back with a roar that shook the sky. "You're wasting your strength!"

"Maybe," Cain snarled, "but I've got more to waste."

Their weapons locked once more. Sparks showered around them as veins of molten earth split beneath their feet. The air grew heavy—soaked with heat, rage, and the faint scent of ozone.

Then, without warning, both fighters were thrown apart by an unseen force. The ground erupted in a pillar of light that swallowed the crater whole, tearing apart the terrain for hundreds of meters in every direction.

Cain hit the ground hard, skidding across what remained of a road. His vision swam. He could hear distant screams, the sky itself trembling. The Divine interference had reached its peak—something inhuman was feeding on their destruction.

He wiped blood from his mouth and pushed himself to his feet. The storm around him churned violently, a cyclone forming above the city.

Through the roaring wind, Baldur's voice echoed again. "You feel that, little godling? They're watching us! They want a show!"

Cain raised Eidwyrm, the golden edge reflecting the chaos. "Then let's make it worth their time."

He charged once more, and the two titans collided in the heart of the storm.

Baldur caught the blade with both hands, his palms bleeding as Eidwyrm screamed between them. "You really think you can outlast me?" he growled. His aura burst outward, pulverizing the rubble beneath them.

Cain didn't answer. He pivoted, kicked off the collapsing ground, and slammed his elbow into Baldur's jaw. The impact cracked through the rain like a gunshot. Baldur staggered, his neck snapping back, but the bastard still didn't fall.

"You're stubborn," Cain muttered, "I'll give you that."

The Ox King spat blood and grinned wide enough to split his cheek. "And you're still breathing. Credit where it's due."

They met again, steel against steel, Ki against brute Divinity. The shockwave this time tore entire buildings from their foundations, hurling them into the storm above. Fire burst from the debris as lightning forked downward, striking between them like the world itself was trying to separate the two monsters.

Cain drove his blade into the ground, channeling his remaining strength through it. The entire field trembled, golden fissures spreading like veins of molten light. Baldur laughed, swinging his axe high to meet the rising glow.

Their next clash drowned the storm's roar.

It was no longer a battle—

it was a cataclysm given form.