Usually, the death of their duke would shatter the defenders' morale, but instead, their resolve only grew stronger. Witnessing their liege fight on their behalf stoked their courage. For a moment, their faith, fanaticism, and unyielding hatred of the sun burned brighter than the sol himself.

Avothiala'rak, solahthorak, tharastiala!

(May blazing meteors fall upon my foes!)

Zorithiala narakuth, kalarathionar!

(Burn their flesh and scorch their bones!)

Avothiala'rak tharastiala kethoroth!

(Paint the earth red and let them feel my rage!)

Kethothrak, solathrak, avothrak!

(Trap and torch them in my cage!)

Selina called forth the wrath of the heavens to punish heathens who stole her husband. From above, giant blistering balls of magma hurtled toward the encroaching army at a frightening pace. Even as the flames loomed hundreds of meters overhead, the assailant's armor began to warm and warp. Their bodies, already tired from hours of combat, were pushed to the brink. The weaker ones had already started to collapse, but before the furious flames could claim the rest, a wall of water sprang forth from afar, shielding the soldiers. Although the water sizzled and steamed, battling against the meteors' raging embers, it eventually countered Selina's assault.

Selina searched for the spell's source, her eyes falling upon a hulking figure wiping blood from his lips. In his grip, a monstrous gnarled staff slick with blood, its crown cradling a pulsing azure gem.

"Vyard," Selina whispered, her eyes narrowing in recognition and rage. Her pulse pounded, a primal war beat, as she watched the enemy general saunter forward. With each step, his mountainous silhouette swelled against the blood-streaked skyline, and his cold, calculating grey eyes grew clearer, emotionless despite the loss of his son.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

"How amusing," Vyard's voice boomed as he neared. "Two traitors, two reasons. One a betrayal of love, and the other the cynicism of an old man. Unfortunately, only one of us shall make it out here alive. Unless you wish to surrender, that is? Your family will shield you from the worst."

"Hmph, you know just as well as I that my family will damn me to a fate far more pitiful than death if I surrender now," Selina retorted, her knuckles pale against her staff.

Her husband's death had left a gaping hole in her soul, but she refused to be swallowed by her grief. She had a city to safeguard, a people to lead. Thus, she shrouded her sorrow, steeling herself for the coming clash.

Vyard pressed on, his stride as sure as the setting sun. "So be it."

Hoisting his staff, Vyard sent a wave of water surging toward Selina, his azure crystal cackling with power. Countering, she conjured a cyclone of fire to devour the impending deluge and dispatched an additional inferno towards her foe.

Vyard swiftly erected a dome of water, halting the embers' advance, and retaliated with a salvo of ice. Selina raised a barrier of flame, melting the spears, but the assault bought Vyard the time he needed.

Materializing from the melt, Vlad struck Selina with his staff, sending her flying. She tumbled but quickly assumed a defensive stance, winded yet resilient. Vyard's gaze remained devoid of satisfaction.

Coughing blood, Selina relinquished her staff for a blazing dagger. She lunged forward, her blade a fiery comet aimed at Vyard's throat. A fleeting flicker of surprise danced across his face as he barely parried the attack. Selina persisted, her dagger a flame in the wind, but her blade danced a futile waltz.

Acknowledging his inability to match Selina's nimbleness, Vyard channeled his mana into the scorched soil, transforming it into a treacherous quagmire. Selina stumbled, allowing Vyard to drive his staff into her ribs with a sickening crunch. Crumpling to the ground, Selina's staff slipped from her grasp, yet her gaze never wavered. Vyard towered over her, his countenance impassive.

"I don't suppose you want to reconsider my offer?"

Selina's retort was a desperate gambit, burning her life force in exchange for an eruption of power, but Vyard simply swung his staff and smashed her skull.

Vyard sent a telepathic directive to his meaning officers. "Reduce the city to cinders. Slay the weak, the young, and any who resist. Chain the rest."