Erlaut watched Leviathos stand before him, ready for combat. Worse than that, he looked eagerly for it. Erlaut himself had dreaded this moment for months. Somehow he’d known this scenario would come to pass.

Even with all divination magic blocked, it’s like something was there in the back of his mind whispering this would happen. He would face Leviathos. And he would die. Still, he would not cower from that destiny, but greet it as the bulwark he intended to be. He tapped his golden spell staff against the floor, small sparks sprayed out with each loud strike.

“Your move wyrm .”

He’d used it as the insult it originally began as. Overtime, most commoners simply used dragon and wyrm interchangeably, despite there being a physical difference. Though it began as derogatory, nowadays, most used it in shorthand instead of saying dragons.

Leviathos’ lips peeled back in an amused grin. “So full of defiance and life. Beating it out of you is going to be so delicious.”

The elder wyrm extended a hand, summoning soul magic into it, until a scimitar appeared that made Erlaut’s eyes ache when he looked at it. Otherworldly soul energy shaped into the form of a large scimitar. A haze shrouded the weapon as it gave off an ethereal chill.

Erlaut channeled his divine sight, and he watched as the engagement unfolded. Leviathos had a variety of openings, all of which he could block or parry. The two clashed like titans, but Leviathos’ age and skill with a blade eventually won him the victory. Erlaut knew he wouldn’t survive his clash. He saw himself die a thousand different ways.

But living didn’t always mean defeat. There were some possibilities where he could tweak the outcome just enough that it gave the future a chance. So he borrowed a page from Leviathos’ book and obscured that potential outcome away, shrouding it in the murky abyss of probabilities and possibilities. This allowed other, more obvious outcomes to come to the fore. Most of which ended in his demise, and Leviathos rising triumphantly.

“I guess I’ll have to trust the future to you Morwen.” He said with a soft whisper. The words carried off on a spell to project his words to her. She was no doubt realizing she’d been played, as they all had, and was rushing back to save them all again. Only this time, she’d arrive too late to win the day.

“There’s a sort of grim satisfaction in knowing you’ll lose.” Erlaut said matter-of-factly before Leviathos moved.

The elder wyrm hesitated, genuine curiosity blooming behind those reptilian eyes. “Oh?”

“It frees you up to otherwise previously denied trains of thought. I don’t have to survive you. I already know the forgone conclusion thanks to you. However, I wonder just how much I could wound you? How much pain and agony can I cause? How much frustration I wonder?”

Leviathos’ previously cocky demeanor shifted dangerously. Not that Erlaut would have expected the wyrm to make sloppy mistakes in the endgame. No, he needed Leviathos distracted. Focused on his anger and not his goal. Everyone had their vice. It was just a matter of finding the right button to push.

Leviathos charged forward, his soul blade biting at his staff as it twirled and spun around him. In between blocks, he snuck the weapon between the dragon’s feet for a leg sweep, but Leviathos frustratingly jumped above the attack and lowered himself elegantly with a few controlled puffs of his wings. Then the sword came back again with a fury.

His footwork would have impressed even some warriors in thier own spell college. Some of those late training sessions with them in long hours of his near manic psychosis now paid off dividends as he worked behind Leviathos and blasted the dread lord in the back with a full powered light bolt. The attack vaporized the air in a massive sphere in front of his palm. Thunder cracked as the atmosphere fell into the temporary void he’d created, and Leviathos was hurled across the chamber to crash into the far wall.

Erlaut offered his opponent no quarter, knowing caution had no place here now. Instead, he needed to sell that he was giving this his all. This confrontation mattered little, save for its conclusion. All these frontal moves were just feints and gambits to keep the dread wyrm entertained and distracted. The death throes of his greatest enemy.

The dragon clawed his way back to his feet in time to parry a relentless assault from Erlaut’s golden spell staff. Glee filled the dread lord as the two demi gods battled. A fight that would be sung about for ages. The day the defenders of light were laid low.

That was the childish dream driving Leviathos at least. He was so empty-headed of his own drive and ambition, he may as well have been a sock puppet for Sauridius. So contaminated and corrupted, so hollowed out. Devoid of anything resembling whatever he may have initially been.

Unlike Erlaut, who, some could argue, had been trained for this very moment. The fact has disheartened many he was coming up short. A cut here, a shallow stab there. His injuries were minor, and his magic could hold it at bay for now. Prolonging the inevitable. Stretching out Leviathos’ amusement.

He struck the Leviathos in the gut, then brought the haft of the staff up, snapping the dread lord’s chin skywards. A few teeth clattered to the stone tile of the floor as the dread lord slowly lowered his gaze onto the arch mage. Erlaut’s hands were already weaving a complex series of glyphs and runes.

He activated his Astral Guardian ability, then stabbed his staff into the ground and hopped back.

System Info: Astral Guardian: Channel the full power of your divinity, and that of the Golden Well temporarily into a singular spell. Increase Spell Attack by an incredibly large percentage for a singular attack without consuming divinity points.

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The staff now stood between himself and Leviathos and began projecting a series of pre-enchanted rune circles of gradually increasing sizes. Then he began to pool aether into an orb cupped in his hands. It began as a small amount as first and soon snowballed in size until the act could be felt from across the sector.

“Let this be the first true divine shot of the modern Divinity War.”

Leviathos stopped, accepting Erlaut’s challenge. The Arch mage grinned. Good. So he was going to stand there and eat this. Erlaut knew it wouldn’t stop the dread lord. But it would force him to burn off a good share of his divinity that could play pivotal later. But Erlaut would see him denied that option.

All his life he’d plummed the depths of magic’s knowledge. Learned rare spells, gathered rare weapons and items. At first it was just because he could. Now he knew it was all for these moments. Moments that when played in correct order would buy the future the chance it desperately needed. Most had thought he’d been given to mania, and perhaps they’d been right. But he’d seen the danger coming long before it got here.

A parting gift of Ominek no doubt, when he’d been bound some months earlier. A wry smile creased his lips. Ominek had caught him in a moment of pure arrogance. A moment he’d paid for. A moment Eryn had paid for dearly. And might still yet again if he failed here.

They were so close to bringing back Aeryn. All he had to do was thwart Leviathos. He’d already began that process, that fighting back even fiercer than the dread lord had expected, forcing him to fight seriously, instead of toying with him as he’d previously expected. That had innately triggered the dragon’s hunting instincts. While normally those instincts served a wyrm well, they also lured them into easily avoidable traps on occasions where they were just as easily avoided, but pride was involved.

Erlaut grinned at the pride brimming in Leviathos now. It was personal for the dragon. Before he’d just come here as an emissary of Sauridius, but now he wanted this fight.

“Smile you sonuvabitch. ASTRAL CANNON!”

System Info: Astral Cannon: A spell that increases attack power by an extremely large percentage. This effect is stackable. Channel the unrestrained, full power of light and bring it to bear on your enemies.

The blast that issued from Erlaut’s hands was akin to a doorway on the side of a G class star. Power exploded forwards, crashing into the enchantment rings his staff had been forged with. Each ring increased, and spun the spell in a circular manner, focusing it, like a magic rifling to a spell. Each ring of runes then did the same on an order of magnitude greater and greater until the blast destroyed the wall of the temple, leaving a smoking ruined hellscape.

When the ringing cleared from Erlaut’s ears, he could faintly hear small bits of debris fall down from walls and ceilings, clattering off the ground. That attack, while it began at such a low level of divinity, would have given even a True God pause. In the distance, a smoking lone figure drifted up into view and flew back at a casual pace. Scales boiled back into place as sinew covered bones in more damaged areas. Then a set of immaculate robes were created on top of the nude body, as Leviathos clapped slowly.

“Well done. I was almost concerned I couldn’t handle the magnitude of that attack. It’s just too bad you’re so weak and pathetic you can’t do it again.”

Erlaut’s expression flattened. “Astral Cannon.” He said deadpan.

A golden rod of power punted Leviathos out of the temple for a second time, sending the demi god skipping off the surface of the planet like a sports ball. That time Erlaut had used his own divinity and some of the well’s power in the attack. It was petty, true. But fuck Leviathos.

Hands smoking, he fell to a knee, panting heavily. They were drawing inexorably closer to the end. He knew that much. Everything he could do? Had been done. Now it was simply a matter of fate, whether it was all in vain. Had he squandered his one chance to protect the well by gambling on a future he knew he’d never live to see?

“That’s for the historians to decide, I guess.”

“No. It’s for me. And I’ve decided you’re a foolish pest who has wasted enough of my time.”

An icy fire exploded in his shoulder as the soul scimitar bit down into the meat of his shoulder, followed immediately by a heel strike to the solar plexus that sent him sprawling down the stairs that fed into the Golden Wellspring’s chamber. He crawled along on his uninjured arm, reaching for the well. If he could drink enough of it, he could deprive the dragon of his prize. But then he stopped.

“The moment…” He whispered. He’d almost let himself be distracted. Instead he laid his head down, feigning defeat.

Leviathos strode down the stairs. Confident, but cautious. He’d grudgingly been forced to give Erlaut respect.

“I misjudged you mage. You were worthy of respect. But I am superior.”

He strode forward, taking a knee, and scooped his hands down into the warm golden pool. Then scooped large mouthfuls of the pool down, letting the magic infuse him. More and more. He consumed like a hungry dog who’d just been given a full bowl after starving.

What he was too distracted to notice was Erlaut weaving a curse one handed and hurling it at Leviathos’ back. The curse sank down unnoticed as Leviathos was too distracted with his infusion and the euphoria of the power he was absorbing.

“And so…I leave the future to you, Morwen.”

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