Lindarion moved like wind through water. His sword cut arcs of voidlight, each swing drawing thin streaks of shadow that bled into the green glow, nullifying it.

His eyes burned with calm gold, unflickering. His movements were not frantic; they were deliberate, patterned, a dance choreographed by instinct older than memory.

He didn't waste mana. Every stroke was efficient, every motion precise. When one guardian exploded, his blade was already cutting through the next. When one spear thrust for his heart, he turned slightly, letting the point slide past before severing the attacker's arm and head in the same movement.

Ashwing circled above, wings spread, his body cloaked in a faint shimmer of flame. "They just keep coming!" he called, voice echoing. "What are they guarding?!"

"Their failure," Lindarion replied evenly, pivoting to catch a descending strike. The clash threw sparks of white light. "And their guilt."

A flick of his wrist, another guardian shattered, fragments cascading like glass. He could feel the ley energy reacting to him now, responding to his own mana like the tide to the moon. His affinities stirred in sequence: lightning under his skin, water rippling through his pulse, shadow whispering in his steps.

The corrupted screamed, a chorus of broken souls.

Lindarion thrust his blade into the ground. A ripple of mana surged outward, dark and blue entwined. The shockwave swept through the battlefield, dissolving ten, twenty, thirty of the creatures at once.

He straightened slowly, eyes narrowing. "There are too many."

Ashwing swooped down, fire gathering at his mouth. "Then let's make fewer!"

He exhaled, releasing a storm of silver flame that washed over the nearest cluster. The corrupted shrieked, their forms melting into slag. But the fire didn't spread, it was contained, held by Lindarion's will.

His control over Ashwing's output was so subtle it almost seemed telepathic, a rhythm they had perfected through years of bond and battle.

"Above!" Ashwing cried.

Lindarion looked up just in time to see a massive guardian dropping from the ceiling, a towering thing, almost twice his height, with four arms and a chest that pulsed with visible mana veins. Its eyes glowed white, not green, and its movements were smoother, more deliberate.

"A captain," Lindarion muttered.

The creature landed hard, sending cracks spidering through the ground. It raised a jagged sword of fused crystal and swung. The air screamed as it came down.

Lindarion met it head-on.

Steel met crystal in an explosion of light, shockwaves bursting outward. The surrounding guardians were thrown aside like leaves in a storm.

Lindarion's boots dug into the ground as he held the weight back, his muscles trembling, then relaxed, he shifted, redirected, and the captain's blade slammed into the earth instead.

He countered.

Lightning arced along his sword as he struck upward. The slash ripped through the captain's torso, lightning bursting outward like a web. The creature convulsed, its glow flickering violently before it split apart into shards.

"Masterpiece," Ashwing breathed.

Lindarion didn't respond. His focus had shifted, something else was moving beneath them. The ground pulsed, once, twice, like a heartbeat. The mana in the air began to twist, the light from the crystals dimming, replaced by a dull red hue.

Ashwing stiffened. "That's not normal, right?"

Lindarion shook his head slowly. "No. The corruption is reacting to me."

From the fissures in the ground, a deeper light began to rise. It wasn't the bright green of corrupted ley energy, this was darker, heavier, as though blood had soaked into the veins of the world itself. It coalesced into a single massive shape, forming not from stone or crystal, but from pure mana given body.

The corrupted titan stood three times Lindarion's height, its surface a shifting mosaic of veins and cracks. Its face was featureless except for two vertical slits glowing faintly gold, mocking mirrors of Lindarion's own eyes.

Ashwing hissed, wings flaring. "That's… new."

"An echo," Lindarion murmured. "A memory of power. It's using my mana as a catalyst."

The titan raised its hand. The air howled. A blast of raw energy tore toward him.

Lindarion's sword swept upward, an arc of dark light cutting through the torrent. The energy parted like water around rock. He charged, boots skimming over the shattered stones. The titan swung a massive arm downward; Lindarion ducked beneath, blade flashing as he cut through its side. The wound hissed and sealed instantly.

He frowned. "So it adapts."

"Then hit it harder!" Ashwing shouted, diving. He unleashed another burst of flame, this time white-hot, his inner fire burning at full strength. The blast struck the titan's head, engulfing it in searing light. When the smoke cleared, the creature still stood, slightly melted but unmoving.

Lindarion exhaled. His voice came quiet, even. "Then we end this properly."

The mana around him condensed. His hair lifted slightly, strands glowing faintly. The ground cracked beneath his feet as energy poured outward, silent but immense. Every affinity he held flared in subtle harmony, lightning threading through water, shadow bleeding into fire, time itself slowing around him for a heartbeat.

He moved.

To Ashwing, it looked like the world blinked.

Lindarion vanished and reappeared in front of the titan's chest, blade already piercing through the core of its being. Golden light erupted from the wound, spreading through the creature like veins of fire.

For one suspended instant, the cavern held its breath.

Then the titan imploded.

The explosion rolled through the ruins, scattering the lesser corrupted like dust. Ashwing shielded his eyes, wings curling inward. When the light finally faded, Lindarion stood alone in the center of the crater, sword buried in the stone, breath steady, eyes faintly aglow.

Ashwing descended slowly, hovering beside him. "…You okay?"

Lindarion wiped the edge of his blade clean. "Yes." He looked toward the now-silent gate. "The path is open."

Ashwing swallowed, glancing around at the devastation. "You could've, uh, warned me before doing that."

"You wouldn't have listened."

The dragon blinked. "Fair."

Lindarion sheathed his sword and began walking toward the ley gate. Its runes flickered faintly, shifting from red to blue, recognizing him, attuning to his mana signature. The entire chamber felt lighter, the oppressive air easing as though the ruin itself had exhaled.

Ashwing landed on his shoulder. "So, what's next?"

Lindarion stopped at the gate, running a gloved hand across the surface. "Now," he said softly, "we learn what the Demi-Humans died to protect."

The runes pulsed once more, then the gate began to open.

A low hum filled the air, deeper than any sound Ashwing had ever heard. The light swallowed them both, and for a heartbeat, the world turned weightless.

Then they stepped forward, into a space that shouldn't exist.