The Second Dungeon Boss! (2)

Feeling the weight of the moment pressing down upon him, Azrael made a split-second decision to rely on his physical prowess, drawing upon his agility and skill to navigate the storm of rocky spears unleashed by the mage.

With lightning-fast reflexes, Azrael deftly maneuvered around the deadly projectiles, weaving between them with calculated precision. Wherever he found himself dangerously close to a spear, he swiftly brought down his blade, shattering the stone with a decisive strike.

As Azrael continued to evade and counter the mage's onslaught, he couldn't help but notice the toll it was taking on his opponent. The mage's complexion grew increasingly pallid with each passing moment, his efforts to maintain control over the spears draining him of strength and focus.

Sensing the mage's waning resolve, Azrael knew that the time to strike was now or never.

With a primal roar echoing through the chaos, Azrael brought his sword back, channeling his mana into it with unwavering focus. As he prepared to unleash his devastating strike, he closed his eyes, allowing his connection to the arcane energies to deepen.

In that moment of intense concentration, Azrael felt his mana extending outward from the blade, separating from it like a shimmering crescent of the half-moon. With a surge of power, the ethereal energy traveled forward with unstoppable force, hurtling towards the mage like a bolt of lightning in the darkness.

As Azrael's eyes snapped open, he beheld a remarkable sight. His sword, fueled by mana, sliced through the stone spears with ease, carving a clear path amid the chaos. Simultaneously, the crescent of mana he had unleashed surged forward, undeterred by the barrage of spears, continuing its relentless advance.

Caught off guard, the mage scrambled to defend himself against the impending threat. In a desperate attempt to save himself, he abandoned control over the stone spears, redirecting all his attention towards the oncoming mana.

With a wave of his hands, the mage's hold over the stone spears dissipated, causing them to crumble into dust and pebbles. Stripped of their magical essence, they fell harmlessly to the ground, no longer a threat.

As the mage's focus shifted entirely to the approaching mana, his face twisted in disbelief and horror. He realized too late the grave mistake he had made in underestimating Azrael's power.

Kaitlynn's eyes widened in astonishment as she watched the frantic movements of the mage, his hands weaving desperate gestures in a futile attempt to conjure protective barriers of stone from the earth below. But amidst the chaos, she caught sight of something else - a sinister black crescent slicing through the air, bypassing the mage's defenses with eerie precision.

Before her eyes, the crescent disappeared into the mage's body, its ominous presence heralding impending doom. With a sickening thud, the mage crumpled to the ground, blood gushing from a grievous wound in his stomach. The stone walls erected for his protection crumbled to dust, their purpose unfulfilled in the face of Azrael's relentless assault.

The battlefield fell silent, save for the sound of the mage's labored breaths and the crumbling of stone. Kaitlynn's heart raced as she processed the events unfolding before her.

"Why, you!" The mage's voice quivered with rage as he glanced upward, his gaze fixed on an unseen figure lurking behind the crumbling walls. Kaitlynn strained to catch a glimpse of the mysterious assailant, but their presence remained shrouded in secrecy.

Suddenly, a blade emerged from the shadows, slowly advancing towards the mage. Kaitlynn's eyes widened in alarm as she beheld the weapon - a dark and ominous sword, its edges jagged and chipped, with webs of cracks snaking across its surface.

"You pesky kid! You think you can defeat me?" The mage's voice dripped with disdain as he glared at the approaching assailant, his chest heaving with exertion. Despite his bravado, there was a hint of fear in his eyes.

But then, a voice pierced through the tension, cutting through the air with quiet confidence.

"I already did."

Kaitlynn strained to catch the sound of the familiar voice amidst the chaos, her heart pounding with a mix of disbelief and hope.

'It can't be,' she thought, wrestling with the possibility that 'him' might be near.

Despite her longing to call out and confirm his identity, a nagging uncertainty held her back. What if it was just her imagination, fueled by desperation?

Before she could gather her thoughts, Illeron beat her to it, his ears picking up on the distinct sound of their friend's voice.

"Dear friend? Is that you?" he called out, his voice a mix of relief and anticipation.

A bard's memory for voices was strong, and Illeron's certainty bolstered Kaitlynn's own flicker of hope.

But instead of their friend stepping into view, it was the mage who turned to face them, his expression contorted in defiance.

"I'm not going down like this," he declared, his hand raised not in aggression towards their friend, but towards the opening in the rocky walls - towards them.

As if summoning his last ounce of strength, the mage conjured a stone spear unlike any other, pulsating with raw power. It hurtled towards Illeron, who froze in terror, unable to look away from the impending threat.

Before the spear could strike, Kaitlynn acted on pure instinct, throwing herself in front of Illeron to shield him. Her frail body absorbed the impact of the deadly projectile, and Illeron could only watch in horror as the spear impaled her, piercing through her stomach and emerging from her back.

A piercing scream of agony tore through the air as Kaitlynn's pain-filled cry echoed around them. Illeron felt a pang of helplessness grip his heart as he witnessed his friend's selfless sacrifice.

But before darkness claimed her entirely, Kaitlynn caught sight of the boy she had hoped to see, his figure silhouetted against the chaos of battle. With a swift and decisive motion, he severed the mage's head from his shoulders, vanquishing their enemy in a single stroke.

But what caught her attention, even in her fading consciousness, was the sight of him running towards her, his voice echoing through the tumult as he screamed her name... clad only in underpants.