Leonard stood silent, eyes locked on the towering figure of Grandmaster Alaric, standing motionless across the vast, barren field.

He studied his former mentor closely, noting every subtle change. It was only a little over a year since their last encounter, yet the toll taken on the older man was undeniable. Alaric's back remained straight, his aura powerful, unmarred by the ravages of time—yet Leonard saw the truth clearly reflected in his eyes.

Those familiar, confident eyes now carried the burden of exhaustion, a profound, pervasive weariness that spoke volumes about what the last year had been like for him.

If given the chance, I would choose to relive everything again. Belinda's death will forever linger in my mind, yet I am certain that my actions are justified and not just an act of revenge. But what must have felt upon hearing about her death, my reputation being tarnished, and my achievements, all while being trapped in Mellassoria, awaiting the call to uphold his vows?

A sharp and unexpected pang of sadness resonated within his chest. The man who had trained him and shaped him into the warrior he was today stood ready to face him as an enemy. Alaric had been a rock during the hardest times of his young life. He had helped him find his balance, grow into a powerful man, and taught him how to wield that power justly.

For a fleeting moment, Leonard considered stepping forward—not with a blade, but with open arms—to embrace his old master, to beg him to cast aside this folly and join him. He could see a bright future ahead for them. Having the Grandmaster of the Whiteguard join him would cement once and for all the justness of his cause. It would open the way for the rest of the kingdom to bend the knee.

But a single glance at Alaric's resolute expression quickly extinguished that impulse.

No, Leonard realized bitterly. Offering mercy or a chance at reconciliation now would deeply insult Alaric. If he had come here, sword in hand, it was because he fully intended to fight. It was not simply the royal court's schemes or Bernard's maneuvering that had brought him here, but Alaric's own sense of responsibility and honor toward the Kingdom he had spent over a century protecting.

I'm sure they must have been working hard to force him to come, but he would have never let himself be manipulated if he didn't believe that it was his duty to do so.

Leonard understood that no words or entreaties could sway the older warrior. To reach the heights he now sought and to truly claim mastery over the Light, Leonard knew he had no choice but to defeat the Grandmaster decisively.

It was probably the capture of Hassel that forced his hand. Until then, the revolution could be classified as a regional conflict. But with the duchy's capital falling and no sign of peace talks in sight, it became obvious to even the blind that I do not intend to stop here.

Leonard turned his gaze slightly toward the assembled warriors, knights of exceptional skill from both sides, arrayed as silent witnesses. Every man present was at least of Expert rank, and among them stood several Masters, their powerful presences casting heavy tension across the battlefield. There was no mistaking that today's outcome would irrevocably define the future. Today, something significant would end, and something else would rise from the ashes.

His gaze lingered briefly on Bernard, sitting astride his mount, observing impassively. Gone was the companionable smile that once adorned his friend's face.

There is nothing left of the young man I once fought alongside. He's sold himself to the king for more power. I wonder if I could have saved him? Would he have ever allowed me to? How long ago was the die cast?

Bernard's eyes now reflected only cold calculation and steely resolve. Leonard recognized the truth behind this encounter immediately—it was more than just the duel itself. If it had been a mere victory in battle he sought, Bernard could have continued amassing strength; he could have sought contracts with the mercenary bands of the north. There would have been risks, of course, but he might have tipped the scales enough in his favor to turn a battle of attrition in his favor.

No, he didn't just want to fulfill his duty. He wants to defeat me.

Bernard, as cunning as ever, had anticipated Leonard's emotional turmoil upon being forced to fight his mentor. He knew that Leonard might win the physical fight, but hoped that the price of victory—the crushing weight of slaying his beloved teacher—would mentally and spiritually weaken him.

Leonard didn't doubt that Bernard was ready for that moment of vulnerability, prepared to exploit any opportunity. Of course, my men would deny him the chance to strike me even if I were ever so taken with grief. But he probably has more in reserve.

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In that instant, Leonard felt something within him shift irrevocably. The lingering vestiges of nostalgia and youthful hope were abruptly discarded. His heart hardened as he fully embraced the mantle placed upon him by fate and circumstance. He would not allow grief or sentimentality to cloud his purpose. The Revolution must prevail, and for that victory, Leonard would accept any cost, no matter how heavy or painful.

Yes, it is far too late to leverage my old bonds. The murder of Belinda severed anything that could cloud my mind. After that, after I saw just how far they were willing to go, nothing could have prevented their eventual loss. It is written in the stars.

Slowly and deliberately, Leonard unsheathed Dyeus, feeling the familiar hum of power awaken in his hand. He took his stance, feet planted firmly, and met Alaric's gaze unflinchingly. For a heartbeat, silence reigned supreme, thick with tension and unspoken words.

A pulse of power came from his sword, comforting and exultant at once. The relic hadn't minded being used to fight chaff, to cut down the minor enemies that had placed themselves in their path, but the last battle in Hassel had awakened a hunger in it. It had remembered what it was like to put everything on the line. And it knew Alaric would be able to give it what it wanted.

Then, without the need for any formal declaration, both warriors exploded into motion simultaneously.

The earth beneath them violently shattered as they propelled themselves toward one another, moving at monstrous speeds. Mere rock couldn't hope to contain the might of the two most powerful paladins in the kingdom.

Space itself seemed to distort, bending under the sheer magnitude of their power as the Light unfurled around them, wreathing them in coronas of power.

As their blades collided, a colossal shockwave erupted, rolling outward with devastating force. The lines of knights recoiled, their formations buckling dangerously until Amelia swiftly raised walls of shadow, absorbing the brunt of the backlash and shielding the witnesses from annihilation.

Peripherally, Leonard was aware of her pulling the men back, urging those who could move to make for the distant hills while carrying those weak enough to be frozen before the display of power.

Yet all these occurrences barely registered with Leonard, as his full attention focused solely on Alaric. He pushed forward, blade pressing against blade, each muscle straining with effort. It felt nostalgic in a way; if he hadn't hardened his heart, he would have easily fallen back into the old rhythm of training.

Alaric's strength was enormous, and the Light burned ferociously within him—an incandescent beacon of righteousness. It was enough to make him a threat even to Ascendants, such was the depth of his devotion.

However, Leonard knew his own connection was deeper, richer, and more potent. It had long outstripped what a Hero was granted by the System and had become something greater. I am the manifestation of the Light upon the earth. Nothing shall impede my path.

Dyeus resonated harmoniously in his grip, amplifying his power until Alaric staggered backward, forced to retreat lest he be overwhelmed in the initial clash.

Thus began a duel of unprecedented scale, unlike anything seen in centuries. Blades flashed faster than mortal eyes could follow, and each collision sent shockwaves rippling across the terrain. The Light erupted brilliantly around them, obliterating shadows for miles and pushing back even Amelia, whose control strained and buckled under the radiant onslaught. Observers scrambled to retreat, desperately evading annihilation as the battleground transformed into a crucible of divine power.

Even Bernard relocated away from the battle, though his expression betrayed nothing. Evidently, he'd expected this much when he'd called for the Grandmaster of the Whiteguard to fight against the Hero of the Light.

Leonard found himself grinning fiercely, exhilaration surging through his veins, reflected precisely on Alaric's face. The older man laughed exuberantly, praising the Light for granting him such an extraordinary opponent. Leonard allowed himself a brief moment of admiration—Alaric was truly magnificent, an embodiment of honor, strength, and unyielding will.

What could you have been, without the shackles you bound yourself with? Had you not stopped advancing, bound as you were with false duty to a kingdom that never once thanked you for your service?

But the time for admiration swiftly passed. Leonard drew deeply upon his connection to the Light, infusing every fiber of his being with its celestial brilliance. He charged forward, transforming into a blazing comet of divine wrath. Alaric met him head-on, but Leonard's assault proved overwhelming. Dyeus erupted with radiant energy, crashing into Alaric and driving him brutally into the earth, which buckled and evaporated under the searing heat of their clash.

The blow would have vaporized any other Champion. Had he struck Duke Garva, he would have ceased existing, despite his much vaunted "invincible" defense.

Alaric's blood spurted freely, staining his beard crimson. Yet still, the old warrior rose, eyes alight with wild determination, laughing as he unleashed a potent surge of the Light. The beam raced toward Leonard, seeking to obliterate him, but Leonard faced it unflinching, allowing Dyeus to howl its dominance as the blade cleaved effortlessly through the blazing attack.

No manifestation of the Light could possibly hope to face the Sky blade. It was just as much a law of the universe as gravity and time.

Leonard raised Dyeus skyward, channeling an immense torrent of divine power through its length. A heavenly blade took form in the sky above, casting the battlefield into stark brilliance. Leonard saw Alaric brace himself, arms wide, welcoming the onslaught. He roared with manic joy, preparing to meet the ultimate expression of the Light head-on.

This was why Leonard had so loved learning from the old man. He didn't fear what he couldn't understand. Battle was in his blood, no matter how deeply he buried that instinct.

Anyone else would have fled, as the primitive portion of their brains desperately tried to seek refuge from something they couldn't hope to fight. Alaric only laughed harder.

Leonard felt an overwhelming surge of divine strength flood his limbs. The magnitude was staggering, exhilarating, terrifying, and magnificent. He embraced it fully, reveling in his communion with the Light. With a final, decisive movement, Leonard unleashed his strike, the enormous heavenly blade descending toward Alaric with unstoppable force.

In that instant, Leonard felt no regret, no doubt. His heart was firm with purpose, resolute in its commitment to the Revolution. Whatever would come next, this duel was the crucible through which he must pass. The old must give way to the new, and Leonard had become that new beacon, blazing brightly enough to reshape the world.

His eyes met Alaric's one final time, acknowledging their profound connection. The older man's expression softened momentarily, a brief look of pride, perhaps even peace, passing across his features before hardening into a resolute smile.

Even though the Grandmaster knew he couldn't hope to emerge from this clash, he would still confront Leonard's attack head-on. Burning Light enveloped Alaric as his very life fueled its density and power. Every ounce of skill he could muster to strengthen his armor was applied, condensing it into a solid mass.

Leonard unleashed his final strike, fully aware of the weight and significance of his actions. With a thunderous roar, the heavenly blade crashed down, marking the end of one era and the birth of another.

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