Chapter Nine: The Devil’s Reckoning
The Broken Courtyard
Elior’s breath came sharp and ragged, each gasp setting his nerves alight. The courtyard was hell—scorched stones, rivers of blood, and the burning remains of shattered columns. The world became noise: the endless shriek of wind, the distant sobs of students, the relentless echo of Alaric’s boots on broken flagstones.
Alaric advanced, his demonic form twisting with shadow—horns hooked like obsidian, eyes glowing cold, a leer curled on bloodstained lips. Elior could taste the sulfur as magic clashed, the air thick with burning flesh and hate.
The Dance of Shadows and Blood
Their duel erupted—a convulsing tempest, neither neat nor glorious. Alaric slammed a fist into the earth, cracks spiderwebbing beneath Elior’s feet. He flew ba
