Indigena moved towards the center of the room, her every step causing the mossy floor to spring up sudden blooms of bizarre and beautiful flora her forearm lit a blazed. A wooden board lay suspended in the air, magically constructed with leaves, twigs, and glowing bugs showing an intricate map.

With a wave of her hand, Indigena conjured two groups of ethereal lights - one white, one faintly purple. Each hovered over the respective sectors, signifying the expected attack of the dark figures. "These entities are Destroying the crops, and they strike at night," she stated. "Their only goal is to starve out the town, turning this town into an unthinkable wasteland."

She continued, her voice speaking volumes of her concern, "We need to cover the two sectors simultaneously. This gives us the tactical advantage, but it also means that our strength gets divided."

She glanced at the assembly, a look of Board indifference painted on her face, "This calls for an act of sacrifice. One among us must venture solo."

In the semi-darkness, her companions exchanged glances. Ronan was reluctantly coming to a conclusion. He would go alone.

"Now about their barrier," Indigena elucidated, "It's potent, forbidding the peons from penetrating its radius of influence. But we, the Tarnished, possess the power to dismantle it."

“Now who will go alone”? She looked over the two clearly she wasn’t going alone. Ronan spoke up “ I guess i'll do it… Remind me again why do you care so much”. Indigina sighed as she looked at Ronan. Her face started tensing up, her brow twitched, her lip almost pulled up but she quickly put it back into its place.

Ronan smiled and stretched his lips to his limit. “Honestly I always enjoyed a good fight”. He took a deep breath and continued “you two will get it easy having a two v one”.

*

It was pitch black Ronon could see the outline of his hand. It blended well in the darkness, dark brown skin camouflaged well with matching clothe camouflage. His curly hair covered most of his face. Pulling out his hand out of his pockets a flare bright red was in a death grip.

The faint rustling of leaves and the distant chirping of insects were the only sounds that accompanied him as he approached the boundary of the cursed sector. His heart pounded in his chest, the anticipation of what lay ahead mixing with the thrill of the unknown. Ronan was no stranger to danger; it was a part of his life he had grown accustomed to, even relished in.

With a deep breath, he activated the flare, and a burst of crimson light illuminated the area around him. The eerie glow revealed the shimmering barrier, a translucent wall of energy that seemed almost alive, pulsating with a malevolent energy. It was a sight to behold, both beautiful and terrifying in its otherworldly nature.

Ronan knew that he had to act quickly. He focused his thoughts, drawing upon the shard of power that resided within him. It was a connection to the ancient magic of the Tarnished, he directed his BSE at the barrier.

The man inside the barrier was shocked and it went down with little resistance. Turns out the caster wasn’t that good. Ronan so far knew how to use a BSE shard blast and how to enhance his limbs for greater effect. That's what Indigena taught him and that’s all he needed to pound this guy into the dirt.

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Ronan wasted no time. As the barrier shimmered and dissipated, he surged forward, his muscles coiled like springs, ready to unleash his magic. His enhanced limbs crackled with energy, and he could feel the raw power coursing through him.

The man inside the barrier barely had time to react. He stumbled back, panic in his eyes as he realized that his protective shield had faltered. With a lightning-fast movement, Ronan closed the distance between them and delivered a powerful punch aimed straight for the man's face.

But to Ronan's surprise, the figure seemed to blur and shift. His fist collided with empty air, and he stumbled forward, off balance. It was a clone, a decoy meant to confuse and distract. Ronan cursed under his breath, his senses on high alert.

Out of the shadows, the real adversary emerged, a grin on his face. He was a tall, wiry man, clad in dark robes that seemed to meld with the shadows around him. His eyes gleamed with a malevolent red, and in his hand, he held a Spear adorned with runes. That glowed in the dark.

The man struck forward, aiming for Ronan's exposed back. But Ronan, tuning in to his instincts, swiftly twisted away from the deadly artifact's trajectory. He rolled and rose to his feet, one hand instigating a BSE blast while rushing towards his enemy.

He thrust his palm forward, relishing his own destructive creation - a brilliant, pulsating beam of pure energy that surged forward, a predator hungry for its prey. The adversary jumped aside, narrowly evading the powerful blast. But the distraction provided Ronan with the milliseconds he needed, his enhanced limbs propelling him to combat.

Throwing himself into the air, Ronan launched a powerful kick, connecting with the assailant's jaw. The man stumbled back, dropping his Spear. Ronan seized the opportunity, his hand already reaching for the fallen weapon.

"Didn't mama teach you not to bring a Spear to a magic fight?" Ronan taunted, a caustic grin on his face.

But the man recovered quickly, retaliating with a burst of black sludge that came out of his outstretched palm. Ronan barely managed to erect a protective barrier of his own using unrefined magic, the force of the assault pushing him backward. The barrier shimmered and buckled a horrid hissing noise as the

The two forces met in a tumultuous clash of darkness and darkness, a swirling vortex of energy ripping the earth beneath them, painting the scene into a Vantablack. The man advanced, his face was demented in the crimson light of Ronan's flare.

Ronan gritted his teeth, his magic flowing through his veins. He knew that he couldn't let this man win, that he had to push himself. His muscles strained as he poured every ounce of his will into his magic, unleashing a burst of pure energy that clashed with the man's dark sludge.

The blast caught the man off guard, sending him flying backward, his body slamming into a nearby tree with a sickening thud. Ronan stood there, panting, his eyes locked onto his enemy's figure.

But to his surprise, the man slowly rose to his feet, a twisted smile on his face. "You think you've won, fellow Tarnished?" he spat, his voice dripping with malice. "You've only just begun to feel the power of the Dark Arts."

Ronan's eyes widened as he saw the man's wounds slowly start to heal, his body knitting itself back together. He instinctively knew he was fucked.

Ronan gritted his teeth, the rush of adrenaline making his heart pound even harder. He knew that he had to end this, and end it quickly. He focused his thoughts, drawing upon the shard of power within him once more.

With a fierce yell, he charged forward, the Spear raised high. The adversary snarled, a look of pure hatred on his face. The two collided in a flurry of blows, each strike ringing out like thunder in the darkness.

Ronan's enhanced limbs crackled with energy, the raw power coursing through him like a wildfire. He could feel the Spear vibrating in his hand, almost as if it were alive. He swung it with all his might, aiming for the man's head.

But the adversary was quick, nimble like a cat. He dodged the blow, and Ronan stumbled forward, off balance. The Spear slipped from his grip, skittering across the ground. Ronan cursed under his breath,

but didn't let his guard down. He knew that his enemy was still dangerous, even without his weapon.

With a predatory grin, the man advanced, his hands crackling with light. Ronan tensed, ready for whatever was coming his way.

But as the man raised his hand, a sudden explosion rocked the area, throwing them both off their feet.

Ronan shook his head, trying to clear his vision. He saw a figure running towards him, and as it drew closer, he recognized Indigena, she had Minerva with her.

Minerva waved her hand, and a bright white light shined from her. She pointed it at the man and released a loud sound wave that pushed him back. Ronan had to block his ears in order to not be deafened by the noise.

The adversary stumbled back, his hands clutching at his head. Ronan saw his chance and sprang forward, his fists flying in a blur of motion. Blow after blow rained down upon the man, each one fueled by Ronan's magic. The adversary tried to fight back, but he was no match for Ronan's enhanced strength and speed.

Ronan's last powerful punch sent his opponent to the ground, bringing an end to the fight. He remained standing, drawing in rapid breaths and staring down at the figure on the grass floor.