Damien didn't flinch.
He stepped forward to meet it.
Time seemed to stretch.
He tightened his grip on the invisible blade. His death energy compressed inward, sharper than razorwire, silent as falling snow. Flickers answered his call, dozens, then hundreds. Each one a final act of desperation. Courage. Fury. Hope.
A warrior's scream before impact.
A widow's cry turned to vengeance.
A child's last defiance.
They all surged into the blade, not as chaos, but as harmony. A choir of ends.
And then Damien struck.
Not horizontally.
Not vertically.
But downward like judgment.
The moment his sword met the Wyrm's skull, there was no explosion.
No flash.
Just a rupture in reality.
A soundless break in the world.
The Bonewing Wyrm froze mid-charge. Its wings spasmed. Its tail twitched once. Then…
A shiver passed through its body.
Bone split cleanly down the center, from crown to spine. Soulflame guttered out like a snuffed candle. The beast let out one final breath… A sigh.
