The Demonfire Candles surged forward in unison, their movements almost synchronized as they unleashed a barrage of fireballs.

Machivel countered with a sweeping wave of flame, the heat clashing in midair and creating a burst of steam and sparks.

Gran charged forward, his blade cutting through the air with precision. He slashed at the nearest creature, the force of his strike dispersing its flames momentarily before it reformed and retaliated with a fiery lash.

Gran raised his sword just in time, the blade absorbing the brunt of the attack.

The heat radiated through the metal, making it almost too hot to hold.

“These things don’t quit,” Gran growled.

Machivel moved to his side, his hands glowing as he prepared another spell.

“They’re not meant to. Their very existence is sacrificial.”

Gran’s eyes darted to the walls, where more Demonfire Candles seemed to be forming.

“And how many of these things do you think there are?”

Machivel’s expression darkened. “I am not sure... as I said, I can only hope their number would not reach hundreds...”

Gran gritted his teeth.

“Then we don’t let it get that far.”

The two moved in tandem, their attacks coordinated as they pushed back against the relentless tide.

The room grew hotter with each passing moment.

Sweat dripped down Gran’s brow as he sidestepped another attack, his blade slicing through the glowing core of a Demonfire Candle.

The creature faltered, its flames sputtering out as it collapsed to the ground.

Machivel glanced at him, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Not bad for someone who doesn’t use magic.”

Gran smirked back, his breathing heavy but steady.

“Not bad for someone who uses too much of it.”

Their banter was cut short as another wave of Demonfire Candles surged forward, their flames burning brighter and hotter than before.

Machivel’s expression hardened, his hands glowing with renewed intensity.

“This isn’t over yet,” he said.

Gran nodded, raising his sword once more.

“Then let’s finish it.”

Gran tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword, his knuckles whitening.

As he darted forward, his blade arced in precise sweeps, severing the form of two Demonfire Candles in a single stroke.

The fiery beings collapsed into halves, their glowing flames flickering momentarily as if extinguished.

However, Gran’s eyes widened as the severed halves began to reassemble, their fiery essence merging back together seamlessly.

"Tch," Gran muttered under his breath, frustration evident in his voice.

"Just cutting them won’t work."

Across the room, Machivel observed the situation while narrowly dodging a volley of fireballs.

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The glowing projectiles left charred streaks across the ground where they landed, burning intensely for moments before dissipating. Machivel’s sharp gaze caught Gran’s predicament.

"Gran!" Machivel called out, his voice cutting through the crackle of flames.

"These aren’t ordinary constructs. You need to channel energy into your blade—fire-elemental energy specifically. That’s the only way to stop them for good!"

Gran hesitated, scanning the battlefield.

The Demonfire Candles’ numbers were dwindling but not enough.

He nodded resolutely and stepped back momentarily, closing his eyes to concentrate.

A faint purple aura began to shimmer around him, pulsing rhythmically as if resonating with his breathing.

The purplish energy surged into his sword, igniting the blade in ethereal flames that danced hungrily along its edge.

Gran opened his eyes.

“Let’s see how they handle this,” he muttered.

Gran dashed forward with explosive speed, the enhanced energy fueling his movements.

His sword cleaved through the nearest Demonfire Candle in one swift motion.

This time, the purple flames seared through the creature’s fiery body, consuming it entirely.

The Demonfire Candle let out a high-pitched shriek before disintegrating into glowing embers.

"It works!" Gran exclaimed.

He pivoted smoothly, engaging another cluster of Demonfire Candles. Each swing of his blade was precise and calculated, the purple flames leaving behind trails of destruction.

The Demonfire Candles recoiled, their fiery forms faltering as Gran pressed the attack.

Meanwhile, Machivel continued to fend off projectiles,

A circular glyph appeared beneath his feet, glowing a bright orange.

"Circle of Fire," he whispered, launching a series of flaming homing spells toward a group of Demonfire Candles.

The circular flames locked onto their targets, engulfing them in tightening loops of fire.

The demon fire candles writhed and shrieked as the flames constricted, snuffing out their existence one by one.

Machivel straightened, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow as the last of his targets fell.

Gran, now surrounded by the remnants of defeated Demonfire Candles, glanced toward Machivel. “They’re durable, I’ll give them that,” he said, his tone half-amused.

Machivel approached cautiously,

"Durable isn’t the word," he replied.

"They’re practically unkillable without the right technique. These things aren’t alive—they’re embodiments of fire magic itself. Their strength lies in their sacrificial essence. The longer they burn, the more power they accumulate."

Gran let out a low growl. “Well, they’re failing at that.”

Just then, a pair of Demonfire Candles emerged from the walls, their fiery forms burning brighter than the others.

These ones were larger, their flames crackling with an intensity that made the air shimmer around them.

“Looks like we’re not done yet,” Gran said, raising his sword.

“Be careful,” Machivel warned, his energy coiling around him defensively. "These are stronger. Probably enhanced somehow."

Gran didn’t wait for further instructions.

He lunged toward the first of the larger Demonfire Candles, his sword carving an arc of purple fire through the air.

The creature retaliated, unleashing a torrent of molten flames that Gran barely dodged.

“Machivel, a little help!”

Gran shouted, his voice strained as he parried another attack.

Machivel extended his hands, conjuring another series of fire circles.

The glowing glyphs erupted, targeting the second larger Demonfire Candle.

The creature shrieked as the flames encircled it, but it didn’t fall as easily as its smaller counterparts.

“These ones are resistant to my magic,”

Machivel called out.

“You’ll need to finish them off!”

Gran nodded and dashed toward the first larger Demonfire Candle.

With a roar, he brought his blade down in a powerful strike, the purple flames consuming the creature entirely.

It let out a deafening wail before collapsing into embers.

Machivel, meanwhile, distracted the second creature with a barrage of smaller fire spells, giving Gran an opening to strike.

Gran wasted no time, his sword slicing through the creature in a blur of motion.

The purple flames consumed it, leaving nothing but ashes in its wake.

As the last of the Demonfire Candles fell, the room fell silent, save for the faint crackling of lingering flames.

Gran lowered his sword, his chest heaving as he caught his breath.

“Is that all of them?” he asked, glancing around.

Machivel nodded, though his expression remained cautious.

“For now. But whoever sent these things isn’t done with us yet.”

Gran sheathed his sword, his gaze hardening. “Let them come. We’ll be ready.”

Machivel sighed, his energy dissipating.

“Let’s hope so. Because if this was just the first wave, we’re in for a long fight.”