Exposed? I instinctively touched my left eye but quickly remembered: it didn't matter. After all, I was facing a necromancer, and there was no time to worry about this now...

"Are you also a necromancer?" Raith's voice came through, his earlier nonchalance swept away.

"Wait, there's no need for us to fight... We could collaborate. Together, we might conquer this entire continent..."

"He's just a child!!! He poses no threat to you... Why not spare him?!!" My voice, though soft, was more terrifying than a roar.

"What's it to me... I kill when I choose!" Raith's tone shifted, revealing frustration and malice. "Everyone looks at me like this, terrified, wanting to kill me! Have I done anything wrong? No! I became a necromancer to understand the essence of magic! Though I am human, I've been driven to the wilderness, living among the stench of monsters! They treat me this way just because I am a necromancer, because I am stronger than they are, because I am ugly! Even if I stay here, I cannot find peace. Adventurers always come to kill me, hoping to gain fame from my blood! Fine, if they fear me, I'll give them something to fear. If they see me as a freak, I'll make them bow forever, unable to lift their heads. If they hate me for my appearance and disabilities, I'll marry a princess to show them! I will make them all know me, fear me, and kneel in terror! If that boy wants to assassinate me, he must die!"

"And you!" Raith glared at me, his gaze seeming to devour me. "Stop pretending to be the righteous one! You are a necromancer too; your hands are stained with blood... Hidden behind your façade of righteousness might be even graver sins than mine..."

"He's just a child!!!" I roared again, my voice resonating with the same intensity as before. Maybe, indeed, my sins are profound... but I would not kill someone who poses no real threat for mere amusement! And... I have no right to speak of justice!

Raith's eyes burned with hatred. Our dialogue was merely a prelude to our clash, a means to gather strength for the impending assault.

We struck almost simultaneously.

The mountains collapsed, lightning rained down, the earth was torn asunder, and demons surged from the cracks, battling under the command of the two necromancers. Water, wind, earth, and fire became our weapons, clashing both visibly and invisibly. Fury and zeal consumed me; I barely felt the pain from the magic. Spells followed spells, as I recklessly expended my energy and spirit to assault my adversary. Raith did the same.

I lost track of time. Even necromancers can be exhausted. The surroundings quieted, leaving only Raith and me standing amidst the devastation. The cave and peak had been obliterated, burying Raith's forces, though this was inconsequential. He could easily reassemble a formidable army. Scattered around us were the corpses of demons summoned from various realms, mostly torn apart in the recent battle.

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My wounds were grave. Despite the protection spells, Raith's incantations had inflicted severe damage. I didn’t know the extent of my injuries, but standing was a feat of utmost effort. Raith, a formidable foe, was as fearsome as any I had encountered as a necromancer. His strength was undeniably on par with mine. He sat on the ground, his wooden prosthetic leg burned away, blood frothing from his mouth, yet his eyes remained filled with hatred.

The outcome was still uncertain. Both of us, breathing heavily, gathered our strength for the next round. In normal circumstances, we would have collapsed, but our mutual hatred kept us upright, ready for another assault.

"Stygian Tempest!" Raith struck first. He summoned blocks of ice from the frigid realm of the Stygian River, shattering ice blocks hurled at me. Even the smallest could freeze a limb. The ice battered my body, piercing through layers of magical defenses, attempting to reach my flesh... I raised my hands to shield my face, but a terrible numbness seized me...

I fell backward, hitting the ground. Raith’s triumphant laughter echoed; he believed victory was his. Yet, with every ounce of strength and pride, driven by the haunting image of the boy engulfed in flames, I struggled to rise.

He was just a child, naïve and impulsive.

Perhaps this was Raith’s final spell. I saw terror in his eyes as I stood again—something even I hadn’t expected.

I began to chant, knowing this spell would deplete my remaining strength, potentially leading to my collapse—never to rise again.

Raith roared in fury, his crippled body harboring more power than I had imagined. His form floated and lunged at me, a glowing object in his hand... the dagger!

As the dagger pierced my body, the magic’s energy erupted. Raith was hurled away, crashing onto a boulder exposed in the snow. Whether the magic's power had an effect was irrelevant; the impact alone was enough to bring him down—I believed so.

Life was being drained from me by the dagger. Even without a wielder, it remained a loyal artifact. I barely managed to extract it from my chest, blood spilling forth and staining my outer robe. At least the wound wasn’t fatal immediately. Nonetheless, I approached Raith, taking three steps before my strength gave out, and I collapsed.

I looked forward, seeing Raith gazing at me. His mouth dripped with crimson liquid, his eyes reflecting the deathly light of someone on the brink. I imagined my own expression mirrored his.

Did I win? Or did I lose? The outcome was meaningless now. Either way, neither of us had the strength to leave this snowy expanse. Both victor and vanquished would lie here forever, forgotten among the demons' corpses, buried in snow. If a victor must be declared, it would be him. I would succumb to the cold first, lying in the snow, while he lay on the exposed rock.

"Everything is over..." I whispered to myself.

Suddenly, my body was lifted by an unseen force, drifting forward. I looked up to see Raith. He still had the strength to use Levitation?

Was he going to throw me off the cliff? The nearest cliff was about fifty meters away, but I doubted Raith had the strength for that. Regardless, what difference would it make? There’s no essential distinction between freezing to death and falling to one's demise.

My body was gently lowered beside Raith. He looked at me with eyes now devoid of earlier cruelty, replaced by a serene clarity. In his final moments, he had freed himself from the curse of dark alliance, emerging from the mire of his own power and desires. Before me stood not the malevolent necromancer, not the villainous fiend, but a mere, dying man.

"Are you alright?" he asked me.