The Last Defiance

The henchmen, clad in dark, tattered armor and exuding an aura of malice, quickly assessed the situation.

They noticed Barnabus recovering from his clash with Elias and their comrades lying dead around them.

"Who is that?" one of the henchmen growled, his eyes narrowing as he saw Sir Elias standing defiantly.

Lancelot started moving as fast as he could, his movements powered by the flight artifact.

Wings made from condensed mana and filled with a concentration of wind magic sprouted from his back, propelling him forward with incredible speed.

He soared through the air, focused on reaching Marina and getting her to safety.

"Kill that man!" Barnabus roared, his voice filled with rage.

The henchmen charged towards Lancelot, weapons drawn and eyes gleaming with murderous intent.

"Wind Magic: Gale's Decapitation!" Sir Elias whispered, his voice low but filled with deadly intent.

A whirlwind of razor-sharp wind blades erupted from his hands, slicing through the henchmen with brutal efficiency.

Their heads were severed cleanly, blood spraying into the air as their bodies collapsed to the ground.

"So cruel," Sir Elias thought, his eyes scanning the carnage. "I can only sense Marina. They killed the entire town."

"I'm out of time. I have to finish this fast, damm i miss my glorious days." Sir Elias thought, his gaze fixed on Barnabus.

In a heartbeat, Sir Elias vanished, reappearing in front of Barnabus, who was about to launch another attack.

Barnabus's eyes widened in surprise as he saw his men die like flies.

"I never thought there would be someone strong in this place," Barnabus spoke, a twisted grin spreading across his face. "But it doesn't matter. You are just one man."

The air around them crackled with raw energy as their auras clashed.

Barnabus's dark red aura met Sir Elias's powerful, shimmering force head-on, creating a storm of magical energy that swirled around them.

Barnabus roared, summoning all his strength for a devastating blow.

"Heavenly Demon Technique: Second Form – Infernal Wrath!" he bellowed, his fists engulfed in dark flames as he lunged at Sir Elias.

Sir Elias met his attack head-on, his hands weaving intricate patterns in the air.

"Wind Magic: Tempest Barrage!" he calmly whispered, unleashing a torrent of wind blades that collided with Barnabus's flames.

The ground shook, and a massive explosion of energy erupted from their clash, sending shockwaves rippling outwards.

The surrounding area was devastated, buildings crumbling and trees snapping under the sheer force of their battle.

"They're out of the town now," Sir Elias thought, sensing the energies of Marina and Lancelot as they flew away, safely beyond the immediate danger.

Barnabus laughed maniacally, his expression twisted with a mix of contempt and amusement.

"Ha ha ha, you could have used your strength to run away. Pathetic," he sneered, blood dripping from the corners of his mouth. "Being a hero at the cost of your life."

His eyes gleamed with dark triumph as he continued, "I get it, you're strong. But you picked the wrong opponent. I am 'Barnabus the Slayer', ha ha ha!"

"I have to finish this now," Sir Elias thought, his resolve hardening. "If I can't kill him, at least I will cripple him."

Sir Elias closed his eyes briefly, drawing in a deep breath as he prepared his most powerful technique.

His voice rang out calm, clear and strong, reciting a poem that embodied the principles of his magic.

"Wind, the breath of freedom, swift and unbound, Water, the life of earth, deep and profound."

"Together they dance, a harmonious blend, To bring forth the storm, where chaos will end."

As he spoke, the moisture in the air began to condense, the vapor forming a swirling mist around him.

The mist thickened, turning into droplets of water that shimmered with magical energy.

"Storm's Wrath!" Sir Elias whispered, his voice resonating with power.

The technique was a devastating combination of water and wind magic, creating a tempest of unparalleled force.

The condensed water droplets merged with the swirling wind, forming a massive vortex.

The storm roared to life, a churning cyclone of water and wind that surged towards Barnabus with unstoppable force.

Barnabus's eyes widened in fury and desperation. "Damn it!" he roared, his aura flaring violently. He unleashed the full extent of his power, his dark energy coalescing into a monstrous form.

"Heavenly Demon Technique: Seventh Form - Abyssal Titan!" Barnabus's voice echoed, his body expanding and transforming.

Dark, demonic energy enveloped him, forming a colossal, menacing figure. His muscles bulged, his eyes glowed with a sinister light, and his skin turned a deep, shadowy black.

The ground beneath him cracked and shattered, unable to withstand the sheer force of his transformation.

He raised his enormous arms, crossing them in front of him to brace against the incoming storm.

The Storm's Wrath collided with the Abyssal Titan, creating an explosion of raw elemental energy.

The force of the impact sent shockwaves through the air, flattening the surrounding buildings and uprooting trees.

The roar of the tempest drowned out all other sounds, a deafening cacophony of wind and water.

Barnabus struggled against the tempest, his dark aura straining to hold back the relentless assault.

His form flickered and wavered, the sheer power of Sir Elias's attack overwhelming even his demonic defenses.

When the storm finally subsided, the battlefield was unrecognizable. Buildings lay in ruins, and the ground was littered with debris.

The air was thick with the smell of ozone and the tang of blood.

Barnabus staggered, his right arm torn off at the shoulder, blood pouring from the gaping wound.

His left eye was pierced, a deep, bloody gash running down his face.

He looked like a shadow of his former self, his once fearsome presence reduced to a broken, bleeding figure.

Sir Elias stood tall, his aura fading. The immense exertion had taken its toll. His youthful appearance began to vanish, his hair turning white as the life drained from him.

He fell to his knees, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

"Dammit, I missed his neck," Sir Elias thought, frustration mingling with exhaustion as he slowly lost consciousness, his eyes gradually closing.

Barnabus, barely conscious, glared at Sir Elias with a mix of hatred and disbelief. Blood poured from his wounds, and the realization of his dire situation set in.

"I almost died," Barnabus rasped, his voice a weak whisper. "If I don't get any help, I will die. I can't even move."