The Author's Viewpoint-Chapter 63 - Touch of the Flame

Tave clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth as he tightened his grip with his left hand. He just needed one touch. Just one contact with his left hand to apply the Soulfire.

The more vital the spot, the more devastating the effect. And his target was clear: Theo’s right hand. The sword hand.

The flame was small, unrefined. A reflection of Tave’s still-developing affinity. But it was enough. More than enough to turn the tide.

"You’ll never lay a hand on me, Tave." Theo’s voice snapped sharp. And then he moved.

Fast. Blindingly fast.

In an instant, he was in front of Tave.

Damn it!

Tave barely had time to swing his blade. Block!

The force of Theo’s strike sent a jolt through his arms, his exhausted core screaming with every movement.

"Arghhh...!"

He held on, barely. Pushing his body through the pain.

Their blades locked. Metal grinding against metal. Sparks flew. And in that fleeting moment. Tave struck.

His left hand shot forward.

Theo’s eyes widened. Caught mid-motion.

He moved to retreat. Too late!

Tave lunged forward, ignoring the burn in his body.

Theo reacted, trying to intercept. His sword slashing toward Tave’s arm. But Tave roared, shoving through it!

Clash! A brutal strike of steel on steel.

And then. Contact.

Soulfire surged from Tave’s left hand, coiling and bursting onto Theo’s right hand.

Theo leapt back instantly. But it was already too late.

He clutched his wrist. His breath was sharp as the black flame wrapped tightly around his palm, spreading fast, hungry and unrelenting.

In a quick motion, Theo transferred his sword to his left hand. But his right... Still burning, and refused to be calmed.

The Soulfire clung to him like a curse, flickering violently every time he moved.

Tave stood, chest heaving, body trembling. He was done holding back.

But his body... his body was on the edge. Gravity pulled at him like chains, dragging him down, but he refused to collapse.

He had done it. He had applied the Soulfire. And now, he had to finish it.

"Fool." Kaelira’s voice echoed again. "You sacrificed your core for this. You are one misstep from collapse."

Tave didn’t answer. He just gave a faint, bitter smile. His eyes fixed on Theo.

Theo now stood tense, clearly straining to contain the fire that curled up his right hand. He was trying desperately to prevent it from crawling further up his arm.

But that was enough. Even that small flame was enough. If Theo dared to push with that arm. The fire would spread.

Tave smiled again, faint but defiant.

This fight wasn’t over yet. And he wasn’t done fighting. Not until the very end.

Tave took a short breath. Then forced his exhausted body forward. Charging in despite the pain screaming through every muscle.

One step. Two. And he was already striking.

Theo met him, raising his sword with his left hand. His movement was still fast, but no longer balanced.

Clash! Tave’s attack came down from above. Theo blocked, barely.

"Is that all you’ve got now?" Theo taunted. "Come on, Tave. You land one trick and suddenly think you’re strong enough to win?"

Tave pushed harder. Flames licking around his blade. "I only need one trick," he growled, "if it’s the one that makes you bleed."

He struck again, and again. Theo backed off. His sword was flashing defensively.

"You’re weak," Theo hissed, "you’re always going to be weak."

"And yet you’re the one holding back now!" Tave snapped back.

He swung wide. Theo blocked with his sword. Tave twisted his body mid-motion and delivered a sharp kick to Theo’s right side.

Theo caught the kick with his burning right hand.

"Tch—!"

But even that brief contact made him wince. Soulfire surged, creeping further up his wrist.

Tave pressed forward.

One slash. Then another. Then another. Theo staggered under the assault, each strike heavier, sharper than the last.

Now he was the one defending. The one gritting his teeth with every clash.

Tave’s blows landed. Not deep, but clean. Precise. And it was clear. Theo was being overpowered.

"Tave... I’m sorry!"

Tave’s body froze for a moment. His blade still raised mid-stance. That voice.

Lily.

He instinctively took a step back, keeping his distance. Both he and Theo were breathing heavily, clearly worn down from the relentless exchange. Neither lunged forward, both stalling, catching their breath.

But that voice had changed everything.

"Lily?" Tave’s eyes scanned the chamber.

Where was she?

He was sure. He heard her. And not for the first time. He had heard Lily’s voice earlier, just before Theo appeared. And now... again.

But she was nowhere in sight.

He’d even called out to Fang repeatedly during the fight. But the wolf hadn’t responded. Hadn’t shown up at all. That wasn’t like him. Fang would never abandon Tave, not mid-battle.

Still, Tave had the upper hand now. The battle had begun to shift in his favor.

Theo was slower, wounded, weakened by the Soulfire. Tave could feel it. He could win this battle.

But that voice. Lily’s voice. It wouldn’t stop echoing in his mind.

What was going on?

Tave surged forward again. His sword flashing as he unleashed another slash.

Theo blocked, barely. His movements now noticeably slower, his stance weakened. The Soulfire was clearly taking its toll.

They were both exhausted. Each clash forced them apart. Each step forward came with labored breaths.

Every strike felt like it demanded more than their bodies had left.

"I’m not looking for excuses!" Tave growled.

"Shut up!" Theo snapped back. "This isn’t over!"

"No!" Tave rushed in again.

Clash!

Their blades met again, the ring of steel echoing through the chamber. A flurry followed—slashes, fast and desperate.

Theo defended. Left hand only. Strained, but his form remained sharp. Controlled. Powerful.

But with every swing Tave made, something deeper began to ache.

Not just his arms.

Not just his body.

His heart.

What was this?

He didn’t stop. He couldn’t. He kept pressing forward—each strike a cry he didn’t understand. Each clash dragging something out of him he hadn’t meant to reveal.

"I don’t blame you for hating me!" Tave shouted through gritted teeth. "But I won’t let you walk free across Yunatea!"

"You think you can kill me that easily, Tave?!" Theo barked back.

They clashed. Again and again. Both fighting on fumes now. Running on instinct. Running on whatever strength they had left.

Two swords. Two broken bodies. Neither willing to fall.

And then... After what felt like a thousand strikes. A final clash split the silence.

One sword tore free. It spun through the air, catching the firelight as it flew... Then struck the ground with a heavy thud, blade-first into stone.

Theo was on his knees. And Tave, panting, shaking. But still stood.

His sword trembled in his grip, arms barely obeying him. Each breath was ragged. His body? On the edge of collapse. If he swung now...

It would be his final strike.

His arm shook as he pointed the blade at the man before him.

Theo raised his head. Bloodied. Barely breathing. Still proud. Still defiant. But defeated.

"Kill me," he said.

Tave’s fingers tightened around the hilt. But they trembled. He didn’t move.

"KILL ME!"

Theo’s voice cracked. Louder this time.

Tave stood frozen, blade ready. But something deep inside held him back. He could’ve ended it. Right there.

But he didn’t.

Why?

His grip faltered. His breath wavered. And then... His vision blurred. His body chilled.

The sword slipped from his hand.

Clang.

Metal kissed stone.

And when he looked again... Theo was gone.

Kneeling before him now... Blonde hair. Tears streaming down her face...

Was Lily.

"Tave... I’m sorry..." Her voice broke.

It was her.

It was Lily.