The first to move was the Black Angel.
He flapped his enormous wings, and every feather that fell from them released black sparks, burning the ground where they landed. He raised his scythe high, then brought it down with force upon the Golden Angel, slicing through the air as if splitting the void itself in two.
But the Golden Angel was not idle.
He lifted his sword with one hand and blocked the strike, unleashing a radiant golden light that pushed the Black Angel back several meters.
Yet below, Nephilim smiled.
He raised his hand toward his dark angel, and massive black magical circles formed around its wings, absorbing all the light from the surroundings.
The Golden Angel sensed the danger. He flapped his wings and released thousands of glowing light blades, like meteors of pure radiance falling from the sky.
The blades clashed against the massive black body, but instead of tearing through it, the darkness absorbed some, while others exploded on impact, scattering tiny golden sparks.
Then, the Black Angel opened his eyes—two void-like abysses that seemed to consume everything.
He raised his hand, and the ground trembled.
Terrifying figures emerged—black specters rising from beneath the earth, reaching for the Golden Angel's wings, trying to drag him down.
But he would not allow it.
He swung his sword, unleashing a massive ring of light that incinerated all the ghosts before they could reach him.
Yet the Black Angel did not stop.
He pulled back, then lunged forward with immense speed, a falling dark meteor, his scythe swinging to cleave the Golden Angel in half.
But the latter was ready.
He planted his feet firmly in the sky, gripped his sword with both hands, and when the scythe met the blade, a tremendous golden explosion illuminated the entire forest!
Below…
The battle between Alethion and Nephilim raged on.
This time, Alethion's style had changed.
He no longer relied solely on absolute defense—he had become more aggressive, more fluid in movement.
He dodged a black fireball, then dashed toward Nephilim with lightning speed, delivering a horizontal slash with his sword.
But Nephilim teleported instantly, appearing right behind him, unleashing a barrage of black magical swords that hurtled toward Alethion at terrifying speed.
Alethion spun swiftly, swinging his sword in a circular motion, releasing a wave of light that shattered the swords before they could reach him.
But Nephilim was far from finished.
With a wave of his hand, dozens of black magical arrows appeared around him and shot toward Alethion like a rainstorm.
Alethion leaped back, then raised his hand, conjuring a whirlwind infused with light that repelled the attack and pushed it away.
At that moment, Nephilim seized the opportunity.
He teleported to an extremely close distance, forming a black flaming whip that coiled around Alethion's arm in an instant, yanking him forcefully toward him.
But Alethion was no easy opponent.
He released a surge of energy through his body, shattering the whip, then lunged forward, delivering a light-charged punch directly to Nephilim's chest.
The impact sent Nephilim flying backward before he planted his feet firmly on the ground, wiping the blood from his mouth with a sinister smile.
Above, the battle of the titans had reached its peak.
The Black Angel ascended into the sky, spreading his inverted wings wide, while dark clouds gathered above him, absorbing the sunlight as if stealing the world's radiance.
The Golden Angel, however, remained floating in the air, his expression still bearing traces of sorrow. Yet, he lifted his golden sword before him, ready for the final battle.
With a thunderous roar, the Black Angel let out a terrifying cry, and a torrent of black flames erupted around him, moving like infernal tongues, consuming everything they touched.
Then, with speed beyond comprehension, he hurled himself forward, his massive scythe gleaming in the pitch-black darkness, descending upon his foe with devastating force.
But the Golden Angel was not weak.
He raised his sword and blocked the strike with a powerful wave of light, but the force of the attack pushed him back, leaving a glowing trail in the sky from the friction of their weapons.
The Black Angel did not relent.
He moved like a deadly shadow, circling around the Golden Angel, attacking from every angle.
A strike from the right!
The Golden Angel dodged, but he was hit by a powerful blow from the Black Angel's wing, sending him backward.
Another strike from below!
The Golden Angel brought his sword up in defense, but the scythe managed to breach his guard slightly, leaving a dark wound on his golden armor.
But at that moment, a radiant aura of light surged around the Golden Angel, growing ever brighter.
He raised his sword high, then brought it down toward the earth, unleashing a massive golden beam that swept across the sky like a solar storm.
The Black Angel lifted his scythe in an attempt to defend himself, but the light pierced through him, forcing him back with great force, shattering some of his black feathers, which turned to drifting ash.
The Golden Angel realized the moment had come.
With blinding speed, he shot toward his opponent, moving like an arrow of light, his sword glowing with the power of the goddess.
A thunderous cry echoed across the battlefield… and then, silence.
The Black Angel froze in place, his scythe slipping slowly from his grasp before his body split in two and faded into darkness.
The Golden Angel stood there, raising his sword toward the heavens as his enemy vanished completely.
Meanwhile, below…
The battle had reached its peak of brutality.
Despite his skill, Alethion was struggling to keep up with Nephilim's speed and dark magic.
In a fleeting moment, Nephilim appeared behind him and lashed him with a black flaming whip, piercing his armor and leaving a scorched mark on his back.
Alethion cried out in pain, but he refused to fall.
Yet he had no time to recover—Nephilim launched a black magical sword at him, piercing his shoulder and sending him stumbling back, gasping for breath.
Nephilim laughed maniacally.
"Is this the strength of the kingdom's champion? You're even weaker than I expected, Alethion!"
Alethion wiped the blood from his mouth and took a deep breath.
"Maybe you landed a couple of hits… but I will not lose."
Then, suddenly, his eyes blazed with intense golden light as he raised his hand toward the sky.
"Goddess of the Sun, grant me your strength!"
Pillars of light erupted from his body, unleashing a tremendous surge of energy that enhanced his speed and power.
Nephilim didn't understand what was happening until Alethion appeared right in front of him, delivering a devastating light-infused punch to his chest, sending him staggering backward.
Before he could regain his balance, he found himself surrounded by countless small orbs of light, all unleashed by Alethion.
"Solar Strike!"
The orbs detonated around him, each explosion leaving searing burns across his body.
Nephilim screamed in agony, but he refused to surrender.
He lifted his hand, attempting to cast another spell—
But Alethion didn't give him the chance.
In an instant, he appeared before him, his sword glowing with divine energy.
"This is the end, Nephilim."
Then, with a single decisive strike, he drove his sword straight through Nephilim's chest, piercing his heart completely.
Nephilim's eyes widened in shock, as if his mind couldn't comprehend what had just happened.
Black blood trickled from his mouth, yet despite that… he smiled—a sinister, unsettling smile.
Then, in a faint but menacing voice, he whispered:
"You will regret this, Alethion… You will regret not dying today…"
And then, he laughed—a soft, eerie chuckle, filled with hidden terror—before he exhaled his final breath.
Alethion remained silent, staring at the body that slowly began to fade away, leaving behind only black ashes that danced in the air.
Yet despite his victory, he felt something strange…
Nephilim's final words had left a mark on him.
Amid the destruction and drifting ash, Alethion stood exhausted, his body bleeding from numerous wounds, but still, he did not fall.
His chest rose and fell rapidly, his breaths were heavy, and his shoulder bled from the wound left by the black magical sword during the battle.
But in that moment, as he stood alone in the scorched battlefield, he heard a familiar sound…
The powerful rhythm of hooves striking the ground, drawing closer and closer.
He slowly lifted his head and saw a silhouette moving through the gray mist in the distance…
It was his loyal horse—Stormeth.
The steed galloped toward him, head held high, eyes glowing with unwavering loyalty.
A strange warmth filled Alethion's heart.
In a world where betrayal could come from even those closest to him, at least he had one true companion…
His horse, who had never abandoned him.
Stormeth stopped before him, lowering his head slightly, as if inviting him to mount.
Despite his pain, Alethion smiled.
"You are the most loyal horse in the world, Stormeth…"
With great effort, he reached for the reins and, using the last of his strength, pulled himself onto the horse's back, groaning in pain.
But Stormeth was careful—he did not rush forward.
Instead, he waited patiently, making sure his master was securely seated.
Then, he began to walk slowly toward the horizon, while Alethion rested his weary body against the horse's neck, his eyes half-closed from exhaustion.