The Lord of the East gleamed, a silent, pearlescent accusation in the aftermath of Karnazul's brutal defeat. Theodric took a deliberate step forward, the golden aura around him a tangible wall of power that pushed against the oppressive gloom of the Void Arena. His yellow eyes, burning with cold fury and unchallenged supremacy, fixed solely on Donarstraza.
Her heart hammered against ribs reinforced by 31 Constitution, but it felt like glass. Karnazul, her anchor, her terrifyingly loyal shield, lay broken and unmoving in a smear of ash and blood. The quest timer pulsed crimson: [45 Hours 18 Minutes Remaining]. But the real timer was the distance closing between her and the Catastrophic Threat walking towards her.
Move. Fight. Do SOMETHING! Elina's panic screamed. Donarstraza's pride flared. She couldn't run. Not again. Not in front of him. She planted her clawed feet on the cracked floor, black wings flaring wide for balance. Golden lightning crackled to life around her fists, spitting and hissing, casting sharp shadows on her determined, furious face. She raised her hands, adopting a defensive stance she barely knew, channeling every ounce of her Level 4 power.
Theodric stopped. Not out of caution, but assessment. His blazing gaze swept over her – the crackling lightning, the defiant posture, the raw power radiating from her… and the undeniable thinness of it compared to the legends. A flicker of something – disappointment? – crossed his features before settling back into cold disdain.
"Donarstraza," his voice rumbled, cutting through the crackle of her lightning. He took another slow, deliberate step. "You stand ready. But your reawakening... it has left you hollow. A shadow of the once great Storm." He gestured vaguely at her crackling fists. "These sparks? Barely embers. Your power isn't merely diminished; it slumbers, fractured."
He took another step, the golden aura flaring slightly. "If there was ever a perfect time," he continued, his voice dropping to a lethal purr that vibrated in her bones, "to extinguish the lightning before it fully reignites... it is now. To prevent the ruin you will inevitably bring."
Donarstraza tensed, lightning gathering for a desperate blast. The threat was real, imminent. She saw the calculation in his eyes, the warrior weighing the kill.
Then, Theodric did the unexpected. He lowered the Lord of the East slightly, the intense focus shifting to something like… contemptuous pity. "But my pride," he stated, the word ringing with absolute conviction, "does not allow me to strike an opponent so weakened. It would be no victory. Only slaughter." He turned his back on her, the ultimate insult, and began walking towards the same archway he'd aimed for before Karnazul's treachery. "I will take my leave. Remember this mercy, Goddess. Remember the weakness that spared you."
Mercy? WEAKNESS? The words were brands searing her soul. The dismissal, the utter contempt, shattered Elina's fear and ignited pure, incandescent rage. The Primal Seduction hum was drowned out by the roar of humiliation. He turned his back! After mutilating Karnazul, after pinning her like a bug under his power, he just… walked away? Because she wasn't worth killing?
"NO!" The scream ripped from her, raw and guttural. Logic, strategy, the quest – all vanished. Pure, blinding fury took over. She lunged, not with grace, but with feral desperation. Twin streams of golden lightning, thicker and wilder than before, erupted from her palms, arcing across the space towards Theodric's retreating back. She poured every ounce of her 128 MP into the attack, a desperate, rage-fueled strike.
Theodric didn't even fully turn. He simply shifted his weight, a subtle pivot on the ball of his foot. The crackling lightning streams passed harmlessly to the other side of him, scorching the already blackened floor where he had been standing. His movement was fluid, effortless, a master avoiding a child's tantrum.
In the same motion, as Donarstraza stumbled forward off-balance from her lunge, Theodric's right leg snapped up. Not a brutal kick, but a precise, powerful thrust of his knee.
WHUMPF!
It connected solidly with her lower abdomen, just below her reinforced ribs. The air exploded from her lungs in a pained gasp. All 495 HP felt meaningless against the sheer, concentrated force and skill behind the blow. She was lifted clean off her feet, the world tilting violently. She crashed onto her back several feet away, wings crumpled awkwardly beneath her, lightning guttering out, stars exploding behind her eyes. Pain, sharp and deep, radiated from the impact point.
Theodric stood over her for a split second, looking down at her gasping form with no triumph, only weary disdain. "Please," he said, his voice chillingly calm, "stop this foolishness. You waste your breath and my time." He adjusted his grip on the Lord of the East, the golden aura pulsing. "I promise you this, Fallen Goddess: When your power returns to its fearing peaks, when you stand as the true Storm of Ruin once more... seek me out. I will grant you the duel your legend deserves. Not this... pitiful shadow play."
He turned without another glance and strode towards the archway. This time, there was no Karnazul to stop him, no desperate gambit. He simply walked out of the Void Arena, the golden light fading as he moved into the corridor beyond, leaving Donarstraza gasping on the cold stone.
[ALERT: Quest Target - Theodric - No Longer in Proximity!]
[Quest: Interrogation of the Intruder - FAILED!]
[Reason: Primary Target Escaped Containment]
[Penalty Enacted:]
* Charisma Decreased Significantly! [27 (???) → 22 (???) ] // The glow dimmed, pulsed erratically, feeling bruised and unstable
* Wisdom Temporarily Impaired! (Duration: 24 Hours) // Mental fog, impaired judgment, increased emotional volatility
* [Mana Intoxication Threshold Lowered Further!]// Extreme caution required
A wave of dizziness and profound weakness washed over Donarstraza, worse than the physical pain from the kick. It felt like part of her very presence, her weight in the world, had been torn away. The Charisma drop was a visceral ache. The Wisdom impairment made her thoughts sluggish and chaotic. Failure. Humiliation. Weakness. The words echoed in her fogged mind.
She pushed herself up onto her elbows, ignoring the throbbing in her gut, the spinning world. Her golden eyes, dimmed by pain and the system penalty, scanned the ruined arena. They landed on the dark, broken shape against the far wall.
Karnazul.
Shame, deeper and more personal than the quest failure, flooded her. He'd fought. He'd thrown himself into death's path for her. He'd regenerated a limb through sheer will and oath-fueled fury to protect her. And what had she done? She'd failed to free him, failed to get the information, failed to stop Theodric, and then been effortlessly swatted aside.
Tears, hot and humiliating, welled in her eyes, blurring the harsh outlines of the obsidian. She crawled. Ignoring the pain, the dizziness, the crushing weight of failure, she crawled across the cracked floor, over the stains of blood – Karnazul's, her own from the imp she'd scared to death days ago.
She reached him. He was a ruin. Ash-grey skin was pallid, almost blue in the dim light. His chest was a mess of shattered armor, broken bone, and dark, clotted blood. His breathing was shallow, ragged, bubbling slightly. The regenerated arm lay limp at his side, the dark fire gone, leaving it looking strangely new and vulnerable. His obsidian horns seemed dull.
Donarstraza collapsed beside him. Gently, hesitantly, she reached out and took his remaining natural hand – the one not severed by Theodric's final blow. It was cold. She cradled it in both of hers, her shimmering purple-red skin stark against his ash-grey. The Primordial Resonance was a faint, pained thrum, a dying ember.
The words came out in a choked whisper, raw and trembling, stripped of goddesshood, pure Elina Ludwig, seventeen and terrified and utterly lost: "I'm... I'm sorry, Karnazul. I'm so sorry. I... I couldn't help."
She bowed her head over his cold hand, the weight of the demon continent, the orcs, the failed quest, and her own crushing inadequacy pressing down on her as the Void Arena's cold silence swallowed her quiet sobs. The once-mighty Lord of the Nine Blades didn't stir.