Before anyone could answer, Lytharos stepped forward, his face hardening as he spoke. "We followed the trail of corrupted essence. It led us here. A man named Eryndar told us to leave, said it was too dangerous to stay."

Seris adjusted her hair, her fingers trembling slightly as she spoke. "Then two figures emerged from the frog. They unleashed a tidal wave of corrupted essence, and it started to twist minds. At first, it was just a few, but soon more began to fall, until we were the only ones left."

The silence hung heavy for a moment.

Rhys clenched his fists, his voice laced with urgency. "Where’s Eryndar?" The worry was unmistakable in his tone. "He faced Caleis and Dravan alone. He wouldn't..."

Seris’ expression softened, her eyes reflecting a flicker of doubt. "I don’t know, Rhys. After we were the last ones standing... we couldn’t find him."

Eryndar stood alone, surrounded by the choking purple fog, the corrupted essence swirling violently around him. His eyes were locked on Caleis and Dravan, their forms barely visible through the haze, but their presence felt like an undeniable weight pressing down on the very air. The darkness of the essence enveloped them, as if it were a cloak, and their malevolent energy seeped into every corner of the fog.

He didn’t flinch, even as the oppressive force of the corrupted essence tried to invade his mind. He had faced this before, but there was something different now—something more dangerous.

Caleis smirked, breaking the silence with a mocking laugh. "You’ve figured it out, haven’t you, Eryndar? This was all a trap—these corrupted ruins, the fog, the corrupted essence—it was all to lure you away from the others."

Eryndar’s eyes narrowed, the realization dawning upon him with a cold certainty. The fight wasn’t just about him; it had never been. He had walked right into their hands, the last step of a plan that had been set in motion long before his arrival.

"And you thought you'd be clever," Dravan added, his voice dripping with venom. "We knew you'd come, of course. You always do, the savior. But this time, you're alone. And there’s no one left to save you."

Stolen story; please report.

Eryndar's jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he studied them, his mind calculating, weighing every possible move. They had anticipated his every action. But what they didn't expect was his ability to control this essence—to turn their trap against them.

Caleis stepped forward, his grin widening. "What, no retort, Eryndar? No final words? How disappointing. You were so quick to warn the others, but you didn’t think to ask yourself if we could corrupt all the fighters together. How does it feel to know you’ve failed?"

Eryndar stood tall, unyielding. His voice was low, but steady. "You’ve underestimated me. And you’ve underestimated the others."

The mocking tone faded from Dravan’s voice as he took a step closer, his form twisting within the fog. "You think they’ll save you? You think anyone can stop this?"

Eryndar’s lips curled into a grim smile, but there was no hesitation in his movements. His essence flared, pushing the fog back as he took a slow step forward, his body brimming with power, ready to unleash everything he had.

"You won’t be the ones to destroy this world," Eryndar said, the quiet determination in his voice cutting through the mocking tones. "And you won’t be the ones to corrupt it."

Eryndar’s gaze remained fixed on the corrupted duo, their silhouettes shifting unnaturally within the dense, swirling fog. The essence around them twisted and pulsed, a reminder of the corruption they commanded. Yet amidst the chaos, a faint ripple of familiarity tugged at his senses. His students—they were here, in the arena. Not close, but near enough that their presence was undeniable, even through the suffocating veil of fog.

They’ve arrived... he thought, a flicker of relief breaking through his grim focus. At least I won’t have to worry about the other fighters now.

His shoulders relaxed for a moment, but his resolve only hardened. He had no room for hesitation. The danger before him demanded his full attention.

Eryndar exhaled slowly, his essence stirring within him, ready to ignite at a moment’s notice. Every muscle in his body tensed as he began to prepare for the battle. This wasn’t just a fight—it was a test of everything he had trained for.

Caleis’s voice cut through the fog, dripping with mockery. "Ready to lose, Eryndar?" His confidence was palpable, every word laced with arrogance.

Eryndar didn’t flinch. His sharp gaze met Caleis’s glowing eyes as he took a measured step forward, his essence flaring faintly, a promise of the storm to come. "I don’t lose," he said simply, his voice calm yet carrying the weight of unshakable certainty.

The fight erupted in an instant.