[POV: Caspian]
Caspian could hardly hear anything over the clash of swords, and the echoing countdown of doom: two capsules gone
One remained.
He exhaled, steadying himself. Across from him stood Darian—The heir of the dragonblood line.
Two capsules broken, just like Caspian.
This fight would be the decider.
'He's insane,' Caspian thought, sidestepping a crushing tail sweep of Darian's mana-forged blade. 'No form, no restraint. Just violent instinct wrapped in divine blood.'
CLACK-CLACK-CLACK-CLACK
Sparks lit the air as their weapons clashed again, and again, the rhythm quickening.
Each strike was a conversation of desperation.
Each dodge, a prayer.
Every second stretched.
Then—a blur of silver and air magic crashed between them.
Steel intercepted steel.
Caspian stumbled back, breath catching.
"What the—?"
A second figure now stood between them, sword poised with calculated elegance.
Oliver.
Darian snarled, his dragon-glow flaring along his arms.
