The moonlight filtered through the uneven rooftops of the sprawling outskirts, casting long shadows over the rough-hewn tiles. The air was heavy with the faint tang of iron and the muffled hum of distant revelry, oblivious to the battle raging above.

Ahlgrath’s grotesque body had fully unraveled, his form now a writhing mass of sinew, claws, and blackened flesh pulsing with dark veins. His monstrous presence loomed, each step cracking the brittle shingles beneath him.

Across from him, Tristan and Yvolt stood side by side, their pink heart-shaped eyes now glowing even brighter, like lamps cutting through the gloom. Ahlgrath snarled, his claws elongating into sharp talons as he lunged, his speed a blur. But the duo moved as one, stepping apart with a practiced elegance.

“I miss you,” Yvolt murmured, and in a blink, she vanished, replaced by Tristan mid-draw. The shock hit Ahlgrath like a slap; the phrase was different this time, throwing off his rhythm.

The delay cost him. Tristan loosed a Force arrow point-blank, the crackling projectile slicing into Ahlgrath’s side and hurling him backward. Yvolt appeared above him mid-air, rapier gleaming in the moonlight.

“I like your smile,” she said sweetly, thrusting downward. Ahlgrath barely raised an arm in time, his claws catching the blade just as it sliced into his exposed shoulder.

He roared, his body twisting unnaturally as he threw her off, but another voice rang out before he could counter.

“You’re my favorite,” Tristan called, switching places with Yvolt yet again. A Force-powered kick sent Ahlgrath reeling, tiles crumbling beneath his bulk.

The seamless exchange of their positions was maddening, but the new phrases, each laced with casual affection, were outright infuriating. Ahlgrath glared at them, his grotesque features contorted in a mix of rage and confusion.

“What is this?” he snarled, his voice guttural and thick with disbelief. “Why do your words change?!”

Tristan grinned, nocking another invisible arrow. “Oh, come on,” he said. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you about love?”

Yvolt smirked, appearing beside Tristan once more. “Guess not,” she quipped. “But don’t worry—we’re great teachers.”

Ahlgrath’s roar reverberated through the maze of rooftops, shaking loose tiles as he surged forward with renewed ferocity. The black aura around him thickened, spreading like a living shadow that seemed to consume the dim moonlight.

Tristan and Yvolt dodged and weaved as they always did, but this time, Ahlgrath’s movements were sharper, faster, and more deliberate.

The rooftops beneath their feet began to glisten with a slick, dark substance, sticky and unsettlingly warm. The air grew heavy, thick with a faintly acrid scent.

Tristan’s foot slipped slightly as he pivoted to fire another Force arrow, but he compensated with a nimble leap, his glowing heart-shaped eyes narrowing in concentration.

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“I miss you!” Yvolt called, switching places with him mid-strike. Her rapier flashed toward Ahlgrath’s throat, but he twisted with inhuman speed, the blade glancing off his hardened flesh.

“You’re slowing down,” Ahlgrath growled, his voice dripping with malice.

Tristan and Yvolt exchanged a glance, their smiles faltering as they noticed the creeping fatigue in their limbs. The black fog that filled the air wasn’t just for show; it was sapping their strength, dulling their reflexes.

Tristan’s next arrow fizzled mid-flight, and Yvolt’s normally precise strikes started to falter, her movements a beat slower than before.

“What’s wrong, little knights?” Ahlgrath sneered, his clawed feet effortlessly gripping the slickened tiles as he lunged. His claws slashed in wide arcs, forcing Yvolt back. She stumbled, barely able to raise her blade in time to deflect another blow.

“Don’t tell me this is the extent of your love,” he mocked, his monstrous grin widening as he anticipated their next move.

“We’re fine,” Tristan said, though his voice betrayed a flicker of uncertainty.

“Are we?” Yvolt muttered, her eyes darting to the blackened fog swirling around them. The sticky substance coating the rooftops seemed alive, creeping and clinging to their boots with each step.

Ahlgrath chuckled, the sound low and grating. “You thought your little game of switches was clever. But in my domain?” He spread his arms wide, his aura expanding further. “I decide how this ends.”

He darted forward, faster than before, claws gleaming as they slashed at Tristan’s midsection. Tristan barely managed to dodge, but the force of the swing sent him sprawling across the roof.

Yvolt leapt to his defense, but Ahlgrath was already there, blocking her blade with his own claw and shoving her back with a brutal swipe.

“You’re not used to being prey, are you?” Ahlgrath hissed, his grotesque form shifting as he crouched low, preparing for another strike.

His movements were no longer wild or erratic—they were calculated, each attack aimed at dismantling their rhythm.

For the first time, the Love Potion Duo was on the defensive. And Ahlgrath was relishing every moment of it.

The rooftop battle spiraled into chaos. The black fog thickened, pressing against their lungs, and the creeping sludge on the tiles made every step a risk.

Tristan and Yvolt, once a seamless symphony of movement, now stumbled through their routine like a broken melody. Each swing of Ahlgrath’s claws seemed closer than the last, and the monstrous grin never left his grotesque face.

Yvolt parried another swipe with her rapier, the force of the impact numbing her arm. “He’s getting faster,” she muttered through gritted teeth.

Tristan loosed a Force arrow, but it lacked its usual precision. Ahlgrath sidestepped effortlessly, his hulking form closing in like a predator savoring the kill.

“Your tricks are failing you,” he hissed, his claws raking dangerously close to Tristan’s shoulder.

“We’ll see,” Tristan growled, his glowing heart-shaped eyes narrowing.

The duo fought stubbornly, their strikes and switches becoming more frantic, more desperate. Every move they made was met with counterattacks that came closer to drawing blood.

Ahlgrath, now grinning with smug satisfaction, began to anticipate their rhythm. He lunged at Yvolt, forcing her back against the edge of the roof.

“Yve!” Tristan shouted, his voice sharp with panic. Then, with a sudden ferocity, he yelled, “I love you!”

Ahlgrath braced for the switch, his gaze snapping to where Tristan would reappear. But no switch happened.

Instead, Tristan stood his ground, unleashing a powerful burst of Force energy that coiled around him like a tempest. Yvolt followed suit, her rapier glowing with mana as she charged.

Ahlgrath realized too late—it was a feint. The duo’s energy struck him simultaneously, Yvolt’s rapier piercing his shoulder while Tristan’s Force arrow detonated against his chest.

He roared in pain, his monstrous form staggering back. But even as he bled, his retaliation was swift. A claw lashed out, tearing through Tristan’s defense and carving a jagged wound across his side.

“Tristan!” Yvolt screamed, stepping between them with her rapier raised, her breath ragged but her determination unbroken.

Ahlgrath straightened, black ichor dripping from his wounds. His grin, now tinged with rage, returned. “Clever,” he growled. “But not clever enough.”