Gray skies.
A silent lightning bolt strikes above the ruins of stones, lying like the bones of ancient creatures—a mute rejection of time.
The old temple pillars lean defiantly, refusing to collapse.
The wind carries the scent of sulfur, blood... and something older than both: a deep despair, evoking memories of the battles that have shattered the hearts and hopes of humanity.
Amidst the destruction, two figures stand facing each other.
Fitran Fate, the legendary wielder of Excalibur, cloaked in white with silver-blue lining, symbolizes peace in stark contrast to the impending battle. Adorning his back is the emblem of the violet rose—a symbol he chose to represent the will of light—imbuing him with strength against the weight of every watchful gaze upon him, as if the universe itself balances hope and fear against the radiance in his grasp, pouring forth power and hope for the downtrodden. However, a wave of terror washes over him as he contemplates the countless souls ensnared in the shadow of his dark leader, Beelzebub.
Before him stood a tall, gaunt creature, its body cloaked in a living black mist. Beelzebub's eyes shimmered with selfishness and greed, a dew of darkness that obscured his intentions. The silence was broken only by his cold, sharp voice.
Beelzebub.
"The Ninth Stomach."
"The Devourer of Will."
Behind his ominous presence, however, there lurked something more; an unvoiced sorrow yet to be revealed, an ego ensnared in tangled darkness. As small insects fell from his shroud, they turned to ash before they could touch the ground, leaving the air thick with a sense of foreboding. Once again, Fitran felt a wave crash against his heart, a haunting reminder that hundreds of thousands of souls served as a grim testament to the cruelty that Beelzebub has inflicted upon the world.
"Light-bearer," Beelzebub whispered, his voice like the rumble of a distant storm on the horizon.
"Have you come to challenge the ruler of the belly of the world?" The cynical and provocative tone shot like an arrow into Fitran's soul, awakening his anger and desire to free the souls trapped in the grip of darkness.
Fitran raised Excalibur.
The blade shone with a golden-white light—a light that not only cut through but revealed the truth. In that radiance, Fitran saw the shadows of the helpless, all those unable to fight against the darkness. With all his strength, he thrust the weapon forward, as if the hopes of the world depended on him.
"I did not come to challenge."
"I came to end you." With each word, the intensity of his voice grew stronger, echoing in the emptiness of this space.
"You have devoured the will of hundreds of thousands of souls."
"Today, my will shall serve as your final boundary." In his mind, those words resonated like an ancient incantation, reverberating with purpose. This was not merely a battle between two beings; it was a profound clash between the tangible light that emanated hope and the consuming darkness that threatened to erase everything.
Beelzebub raised his hand.
A mist of emptiness erupted from his palm.
"Black Maw Surge."
A massive jaws-shaped wave of darkness surged toward Fitran.
Fitran stepped forward.
Beelzebub raised his hand.
The fog of emptiness erupted from his palm. His face bore a terrifying expression, reflecting all the sects of darkness he had absorbed. In the dim light, Beelzebub's fiery eyes sparkled like stars of death, ready to destroy.
"Black Maw Surge."
A massive jaw-shaped wave of darkness surged toward Fitran. Behind his protective barrier, Fitran, with a sharp gaze, felt the evil wave approaching. The dark power trembled the air around him, as if challenging his bravery. Yet, within the true warrior, there was an unshakeable conviction.
Fitran stepped forward. His voice trembled with a bold defiance, even as warnings and threats clutched at his soul.
"Luminis Severance."
Excalibur cut through the air. The white light sliced apart the dark jaws like a knife through old fabric. Fitran's breath surged his courage, igniting light with every inch of his attack. The wave of Beelzebub shattered, creating a gust of wind that hurled debris from the temple.
Beelzebub roared. His voice echoed like thunder, signaling the fury and dominance of darkness. His body stretched. Two additional arms extended like those of a giant grasshopper. Each emerging limb radiated an unsettling aura of darkness, seemingly aiming to instill fear in the brave heroes who dared oppose him.
"Devourer Limbs."
The four limbs gripped the air and lunged toward Fitran. Behind his determined expression lay a fear of what was to come. In an instant, memories flooded his mind: the sacrifices made to reach this moment, his fervent desire to protect the world from the threat of darkness. Beelzebub grinned wickedly, as if he could read Fitran's thoughts, savoring the doubt that tormented the heart of the hero.
Fitran did not retreat. He swung Excalibur, reciting the spell:
"Solaris Barrage."
Four spears of light formed in the air, soaring to strike Beelzebub's hands.
The spears erupted in a deafening explosion, shattering two of Beelzebub's four hands, symbolizing a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness.
The remaining two hands, however, did not relent; they continued their relentless advance toward him.
Fitran leaped, feeling his heartbeat resonate softly with determination, synchronized with the radiant energy of Excalibur.
"Halo Severance."
A circular blade of light severed Beelzebub's remaining hands, and for a moment, the light capable of burning the darkness seemed to pause, reflecting the despair in Fitran's determined expression.
Black blood gushed forth, instantly evaporating upon contact with the air.
Beelzebub laughed lowly, his laughter booming like thunder, instilling a sense of dread in Fitran's heart.
"Human light magic? I have devoured those more powerful than you."
He opened his grotesquely wide mouth, as if it could swallow the very souls of those who dared to approach.
From within, an ancient incantation echoed, spreading terrifying darkness all around:
"Abysso Gluttony: Pit of Ninth Stomach!"
A chill spread through Fitran's body as the words resounded, as if the darkness itself seeped into the nearby souls. He felt suffocated by an invisible pressure, yet he knew deep within that hope still flickered.
With a burning determination, he recalled all the reasons he fought, the faces of his loved ones flashing in his mind. 'I will not give up,' he thought, gripping Excalibur tightly as it vibrated with the pure power he channeled.
He could see a bright light at the end of the darkness unleashed by Beelzebub, and he knew the time had come to act. 'Don't let the darkness take control of you, Fitran. Light is always found at the end of darkness,' he reminded himself.
With courage flowing through his veins, Fitran prepared to strike again, striving to gather his energy. In one swift motion, he locked eyes with Beelzebub, a defiant voice escaping his lips: "You will gain nothing from me, darkness!"
The ground beneath Fitran's feet cracked.
A swirling black void opened up, attempting to drag him into an eternal emptiness of hunger.
Fitran raised Excalibur towards the sky.
"Resol Sanctis!"
A circle of golden-white light appeared beneath his feet, closing off the black hole.
The aura of pure will pushed back Beelzebub's power.
With each heartbeat, Fitran felt an increasing pressure. In the chaos of battle, he recalled his master's teachings, how light symbolizes hope and courage. "I will not back down," he murmured, his determination blazing as if ignited by the light of his sword.
"No way!"
"Light cannot be devoured. Light refuses to become a victim."
Beelzebub charged.
The insatiable hunger was evident on his dark visage, as if he sought to absorb every shining light. His black claws extended like sickles, bringing with them deep darkness and terror. He slashed towards Fitran, his eyes glimmering with ambition and envy. "You will make a delicious feast for this darkness!" he roared, his voice rumbling like thunder on a stormy night.
"Clang! Clang! Clang!"
Excalibur blocked every strike.
Fitran felt a vision of a bright future, a world free from darkness. He knew that every strike and defense was fought for that hope, a hope worth fighting for. "Every slash is not just for me, but for those who have been lost!" His spirit ignited, fueled by sweat and blood, as the light of Excalibur shattered the imposing darkness surrounding them.
Fitran pushed back, whispering:
"Dawnstep."
He darted behind Beelzebub, merging lightning-fast speed with the precision of a swordsmanship honed over years. Each movement reflected the experience of a gladiator tested by countless battles. Behind him, Beelzebub's shadow loomed larger, a dark aura enveloping the space around him, reminding Fitran of his grim past.
"Lucent Reversal."
In the aftermath of the explosion, as the dust settled, Beelzebub stood tall, his figure appearing even more terrifying and formidable. From the shadows, his body sprouted new arms, each one exuding a wave of energy toward Beelzebub's back. The energy exploded with a resonating sound, as if daring every dark element threatening the world. The monster was knocked back, crashing into a stone pillar and shattering it, serving as a warning that never tires. Meanwhile, Fitran's spirit awakened, fueled by a long-buried guilt, realizing that he was not only fighting for himself but also for a hope that was on the verge of extinction.
As the dust settled, Beelzebub stood, his figure appearing even more terrifying. His body sprouted new arms from the shadows, each one showcasing a greater strength, like a dreadful retribution from the darkness that never sleeps.
"You cannot win, Fitran Fate."
"I am the hunger of desire. I am the instinct of the world."
Fitran raised Excalibur, pointing it at him, his eyes shining with determination.
"You are mistaken."
"You are the will of the past, trapped in oblivion. An instinct that cannot adapt to a bold and new future."
"I am the choice. I am the future."
Beelzebub growled, inhaling as if he were trying to absorb every light present. His body doubled in size, presenting the image of a terrifying dark god.
"Then let us see if your future can withstand the eternal hunger."
Beelzebub activated a forbidden spell:
The sky above them erupted in cracks, resembling the harbinger of disaster. A glowing, purple-black hole opened, warping gravity and pulling fragments of reality toward its insatiable maw. Fitran felt his heart race, sensing the oppressive weight of the darkness sprawling above him, as if the ghosts of his past were haunting him once more.
The sky above them cracked, as if it were about to give birth to disaster. A glowing purple black hole opened, twisting gravity and pulling fragments of reality into it. Fitran felt his heart race, sensing the pressure of the darkness sprawling above him, the ghosts of the past haunting him once more.
Fitran stood firm, shifting his feet into the ground, trying to instill belief within himself. He gripped Excalibur with both hands, relishing the vibration of the sword that sparkled like stars in the dark night.
"If this is your will..."
"I will also summon my highest light magic, the pinnacle of power to confront the darkness you have created."
"Luminary Arc: Solus Tempest!"
The blade of Excalibur shone as brightly as the morning sun, reflecting hope that returned after a long darkness.
The aura of light coalesced into a magical circle in the air, summoning a storm of brilliance that swept away the winds, magic, and even shadows lurking in the darkness. Behind that resplendent power, Fitran felt every beat of his racing heart filled with spirit and courage. Every fiber of his being ignited with purpose, and his astonished face reflected an unwavering determination. He understood that he was not just fighting for his own survival, but for all those threatened by the engulfing darkness of Beelzebub.
Beelzebub, with an expression of haunting emptiness, unleashed waves of desolation from his mouth. His cold and malevolent smile suggested a soul fully consumed by darkness. "Light? Merely an illusion you will come to regret, Fitran!" he shouted, his voice thundering and echoing through the air like a storm that deafened all who heard it. Yet, Fitran charged forward, Excalibur transforming into a tempest of pure light. Each of his movements radiated energy magnificent in its brilliance, delivering a decisive blow with pinpoint accuracy, as if time itself momentarily paused when he raised the sacred sword.
Light vs Darkness.
Choice vs Instinct.
The clash between them shook the entirety of Elysvarre, sending vibrations felt by all living beings, signaling the legendary battle unfolding. No one could have anticipated the force generated from this struggle, where hope and darkness fought with souls seemingly intent on swallowing the world in silence. Fitran felt the vibrations of darkness drawing nearer, threatening everyone he cherished. The darkness crept like a living entity, slowly reaching out to corrupt the power of light he possessed. "I will not back down!" shouted Fitran, his voice resonating powerfully, shaking the earth beneath him.
BOOOOMMMMM!