Argrave conjured a wave of flames to meet Mozzahr as he crashed down at him with all the speed and strength of a meteor. He didn’t think it would do much damage—rather, he hoped to obscure visibility as he dodged so as not to betray his newfound ability, [Echo Step]. He warped near Sophia as he felt the tremendous impact shake the temple grounds, then scooped her up and watched Mozzahr warily as the Castellan of the Empty rose to face Argrave.

“Hause—fulfill your promise,” he directed the goddess. “Keep Sophia safe, just for a little bit.”

Hause, though overwhelmed by Sophia, still had many more years of experience with battle than he did. She took Sophia, then directed Sonia, “Evacuate the citizens, then rally the faithful. I shall fall back deeper.”

“Mister…!” Sophia called out, reaching for him.

“Sorry to show you an unpleasant sight. But I need you to behave, if only for a little bit,” Argrave told her.

Sophia went mute and nodded, and Argrave placed himself between Hause and Mozzahr as she headed deeper into her temple. Mozzahr looked at Argrave and shook his head.

“Thinking I’ll go for the girl? No. The tables have turned, King Argrave. Once, you attacked me in the heart of my power, to end me as a threat to your kingdom. Now, the roles have swapped. I hope not to underestimate you.”

“If you’re talking, you’re already doing that,” Argrave pointed out, studying Mozzahr as his blood echoes spread throughout the indoor garden in Hause’s temple.

Argrave could see the Castellan of the Empty bursting with his mysterious Emptiness. It emerged from his left eye, a faint teal energy that hued his face subtly in the dim light of this temple. Now, though, Mozzahr was better armored. He had armored himself in the faintly purple dwarven metal, which somewhat mitigated magic and the influence of spirits. Argrave saw he had a rapier made of a sharpened horn strapped to his left leg, and recognized it as a divine weapon.

“You humbled me. It lowered me back to a time long before I had any power. My family were the descendants of slaves kept by the dwarves. Smithing slaves, specifically. Despite this servitude, they passed down the method to work with dwarven metal like they were proud of it. I thought it disgraceful. I never taught it to my daughter for this reason.” He took a deep breath, then held the rapier out. “It seems, however, that I must teach her our history. It may break her faith in me. But I will not abandon the path

and a little concerned, that Mozzahr had forged armor of dwarven metal to fight against Argrave. It wouldn’t be a life-or-death difference, but it

him. His Emptiness was his strength. It had grown over centuries to its apex, but the more of it he used in combat, the weaker he’d become overall until it was replenished. Mozzahr had fought against Argrave, then Erlebnis, and endured whatever else it had taken

places with one of his blood echoes and used others to cast a simple, probing [Arc Whips] infused with blood essence. The coiling red arcs of electricity struck Mozzahr’s back for but a few seconds before he leapt away to avoid them. When he looked back at Argrave, electricity

shock in her voice. With Vasquer connecting her mind to his sister, she could likely see

“They should wait outside. If he leaves, have them prepared to hit hard and fast. But if I give the order,

fast to simply side-step. He’s testing how I’m dodging. Argrave realized he could hide the secret no longer, so he swapped places with a nearby echo. Mozzahr’s purple eyes glinted when he figured things out, and then he gathered power in his hand once

not

again, and when he did, Mozzahr unleashed a fell pulse of energy. It sheared through bushes, trees, and all the greenery in the garden until all was decimated. Argrave, however, sought refuge in the crawlspace that the elf had made. He commanded his blood echoes to mindlessly attack

and threw his rapier with tremendous grace. As it pierced the stone beneath him, Argrave conjured a ward with the ring on his finger by a long-instilled instinct. The sheening enchantment stopped the blade inches away from his gut, but Mozzahr gathered yet more Emptiness in his hand for a follow-up attack. Argrave frantically projected his echoes back

same silent fury he’d had since the beginning. Argrave watched, wide-eyed, as it seemed to bury the

Argrave could only teleport short distances away time and time again, the sheer speed and unrelenting of Mozzahr’s assault providing no room for rest. He alternated between waves of power and swings of his weapon, testing Argrave’s limits with every

even breathless as he swung. “It’s a real fight. Not

rut. Noticing this, he changed his style immediately. Rather than projecting echoes behind and backstepping, he projected two forward and prepared a spell in his left hand.

Mozzahr said—this was his own power, and

Argrave cast his spell in fearless defiance, an A-rank [Burst] infused with his own blood. Pain roared through his body as his very essence coursed into the spell, yet it empowered a deafening burst that intercepted the rapier and Mozzahr. His foe was ready to defend, however, and the powerful warrior took the blow extremely well. Argrave saw his armor shear away and his wrist break… but Mozzahr got distance and healed the wound with magic until it seemed to

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