THE CLASH OF RELICS

Kintu had a restless night, unable to find peace as the system continuously chimed with warnings of imminent danger. Something was deeply wrong, and he knew it. Deciding that sleep would not come easily, he silently slipped from his bed, the castle's cool stone floors chilling his bare feet as he moved through the dark, silent corridors.

The castle, usually a place of safety and refuge, felt different tonight—foreboding, as if the shadows themselves were watching him. Kintu's heightened senses caught the faintest sound of footsteps echoing down the hall, barely audible over the hush of the night. His heart quickened as he silently moved toward the source, his steps imperceptible thanks to the shadow step's secondary ability, shadow concealment, which allowed him to blend seamlessly with the darkness, moving without a sound. Kintu though scared always felt stronger at night.

He soon spotted a shadowy figure slipping through the dimly lit halls, moving with a stealth that would have gone unnoticed by anyone else. But Kintu recognized the figure's gait, the way it slithered through the castle with an air of purpose—Lord Malachai. The old mage malevolent in his movements tonight, something that made Kintu's blood run cold. Malachai was no longer clad in his traditional blue court mage's robe; now, he donned a striking red one.

Staying just out of sight, Kintu followed Malachai, every sense on high alert. He could feel the magic emanating from the old mage, a vile energy that made his skin crawl. Malachai's destination became clear as he approached a large marble door. Kintu crouched in the shadows, his body tense, watching in horror as Malachai raised his hand, a ball of fire forming in his palm. The flames crackled with an unnatural intensity, their light flickering off the walls, casting eerie shadows that danced with malicious intent.

As Malachai prepared to unleash the spell, Kintu's mind raced. But before he could act, the king stirred, as if sensing the danger in his sleep. The fireball flew from Malachai's hand, hurtling toward the bed where the king lay. In that instant, Kintu's blood ran cold—he was about to witness regicide.

But just as the flames were about to consume the bed, the king moved with a swiftness that belied his age. In a single, fluid motion, he summoned a torrent of water from seemingly nowhere. The water surged forth, an unstoppable force that collided with the fire, dousing the flames in a hiss of steam. The room was momentarily obscured by the thick vapor, the clash of elements leaving a tangible tension in the air.

When the steam cleared, Kintu's eyes widened in shock. The king was no longer the frail, elderly man he had always appeared to be. Instead, he stood tall, his body emanating a powerful aura of divine energy. His eyes glowed with the ethereal light of Zodina, the Goddess of Water, and his form was adorned with shimmering, blue armor that seemed to flow like liquid, constantly shifting and rippling with the essence of the ocean. The king was not merely a ruler—he was the living avatar of the water goddess herself.

"Did you truly believe you could kill me so easily, Malachai?" The king's voice boomed, carrying the weight of his true identity.

Without warning, Malachai summoned a blaze of fire, his body engulfed in flames that danced around him, forming a protective barrier. The heat was intense, almost unbearable, even from where Kintu was hidden. The fire twisted and coiled around Malachai, and as he stepped forward, his voice grew colder, more menacing. "I, too, serve a god," he hissed. "Athenus, the God of Fire, has bestowed upon me the power to reduce this entire kingdom to ash. The Fire Storm Staff Relic and I have planned this moment for years, biding my time until I could finally rid the world of your pathetic bloodline."

The air in the chamber grew thick with tension as the two faced off. Kintu could feel the raw power radiating from both men, the sheer force of their divine magic clashing in the confined space. Water and fire met in a violent, elemental dance, each vying for dominance. The walls of the chamber trembled under the strain of their battle, the very air crackling with energy. It was as if the gods themselves were at war, their power too great for the mortal realm to contain.

The king's water surged forward, a tidal wave of liquid fury, seeking to drown the flames that threatened to consume everything. But Malachai's fire responded in kind, blazing hotter, fiercer, turning the water to steam in an instant. The clash was relentless, neither giving an inch, the room growing unbearably hot, then cold, then hot again as the elements battled for supremacy.

"You're a fool, Malachai!" the king roared, his voice echoing off the stone walls. "You think the power of Athenus will save you? You are nothing more than his pawn!"

Malachai's eyes narrowed, his smile fading. "And you, old man, are nothing but a relic of a bygone era. Athenus will cleanse this land with fire, and from the ashes, a new order will rise—an order where your kind has no place. It is far better to lay at a God's feet than to lay in a grave."

With a furious shout, Malachai gathered all his strength and hurled a massive fireball at the king, its heat so intense that the very stones of the castle began to glow red. But the king was ready. With a mighty gesture, he summoned a towering wall of water that met the fireball head-on. The impact shook the castle to its foundations, but the water held, extinguishing the flames in a burst of steam.

The king stepped forward, his power surging, preparing to strike the final blow. But just as he was about to unleash his attack, Malachai's smirk returned. With a mocking bow, he stepped backward, his body fading into the shadows. "This isn't over," he taunted, his voice echoing as if from a great distance. "The fire god's wrath will descend upon you soon enough."

Before the king could react, Malachai turned and leaped through the window, his form disappearing into the night. The flames that had engulfed him vanished as quickly as they had come, leaving only the faint scent of smoke in the air.

Kintu, still hidden in the shadows, was left stunned by what he had just witnessed. The king, the most powerful man in the kingdom, was not just a ruler but a divine avatar. And Malachai, the man he had once considered a mere court mage, was a relic user for the God of Fire. The world was far more dangerous and complex than Kintu had ever imagined.

As the last traces of divine energy faded from the air, the king's powerful aura receded, leaving him looking frail and vulnerable. His once imposing figure seemed to shrink as the armor of Zodina vanished, leaving him clad in his simple royal robes. The room fell into an eerie silence, the echoes of the fierce battle still reverberating in Kintu's mind.

Suddenly, the king stumbled, his body trembling as if under an immense weight. With a pained gasp, he collapsed onto the bed, his hand clutching his chest. A wet, rasping cough escaped his lips, and Kintu's heart sank as he saw the dark stain of blood on the king's hand.

Panic surged through Kintu as he rushed to the king's side, his mind racing. "Your Majesty!" he exclaimed; his voice edged with fear. He had witnessed powerful warriors fall before but seeing the king—the embodiment of strength—so weakened, sent a chill through him. "We need to get you help!"

But the king, though clearly in pain, waved him off weakly, a faint smile of resignation on his lips. "No, Kintu," he rasped, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's all right… this is… expected."

Kintu stared at him, confusion and worry etched on his face. "What do you mean? You are coughing up blood—you need a healer!"

The king shook his head slowly, his breathing labored. "This… this is the cost of wielding the relics… all five at once. A mortal body… was never meant to contain such power… even one blessed by a god."

Kintu's eyes widened in realization. The king's power, the divine strength that had just saved his life, was also tearing him apart from the inside. The weight of the revelation pressed down on him like a physical force. "You're dying," Kintu whispered, the words heavy with sorrow.

The king gave a slow, weary nod. "Yes," he admitted, his voice tinged with a deep sadness. "I have known for some time now. The avatar state… it is too much for any human to bear… for too long. The avatar mode… it drains life from their bearers, and in return… they grant the power of the gods. But the price… is my life. I will not make it another month."

Kintu clenched his fists, anger, and helplessness coursing through him. "Your daughter… Elara… does she know?"

A shadow passed over the king's face, and his expression softened with grief. "No," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "She does not know… and I had hoped she would never need to. But the truth cannot be hidden forever. I fear… that my time is running out faster than I anticipated. Elara will have to take up the mantle… sooner than she is ready."

Kintu felt a deep sense of loss settle in his chest. He had come to respect the king as a leader, and now, as a dying man clinging to his last moments of strength, he respected him even more. "There must be something we can do," Kintu urged, desperation creeping into his voice. "There has to be a way to save you!"

The king reached out, placing a trembling hand on Kintu's arm. "There is nothing… nothing that can be done. This is the fate of those who wield all five relics… we are but vessels for their power. And like all vessels… we eventually break. My only wish… is to see Elara safe… and to leave this kingdom… in good hands."

Kintu nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. "I swear, I will do everything I can to protect Elara. You have my word."

The king smiled faintly, the pain in his eyes tempered by gratitude. "Thank you, Kintu. You have a good heart… and a strong will. I know you will make a difference."

As the king's strength began to fade, Kintu stayed by his side, his mind reeling from the revelations. The burden of knowledge weighed heavily on him, but it also steeled his resolve. The path ahead was fraught with danger, but he knew now more than ever that he could not afford to falter. The fate of the kingdom—and perhaps the world—depended on the choices he and Elara would make in the days to come.

He silently vowed to himself that he would be ready for whatever came next, no matter how perilous.

Kintu's thoughts raced as the system continued to inform him that in order to stand against others, he would need to find the other relics. The system indicated that the relic was within the castle but could not pinpoint its exact location. He clenched his fists, feeling the weight of the responsibility that had been thrust upon him.

The following morning, Kintu approached the princess, who was still visibly shaken by the events of the previous night. Her normally vibrant eyes were clouded with worry, her hands trembling slightly as she tried to maintain her composure. Her royal gown, usually impeccable, seemed hastily donned, the delicate fabrics slightly askew.

"Princess, I need your help," Kintu began, his voice steady but urgent. "I cannot leave the castle due to the lockdown, and since I am here, I was thinking. Would you give me a tour of the grounds?"

The princess hesitated, her eyes searching his face for a moment before she nodded. "Of course, but I must warn you, the castle holds many secrets, some even I'm unaware of."

As they walked through the corridors, the princess confided in him, her voice tinged with disbelief. "Lord Malachai ... he was always so loyal. I cannot understand what caused this change in him."

Kintu listened, his mind half on her words and half on the growing sense of urgency within him. The system was silent, waiting, but he could feel its presence, like a coiled spring ready to release.

As they continued their tour, an alarm suddenly rang out, a piercing sound that reverberated through the ancient stone walls. Guards rushed past them; their faces set in grim determination. The princess's eyes widened in fear as the realization struck them both.

"He's returned," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Lord Malachai ... he's brought an army from the Fire God's domain."

The princess looked at him, her fear palpable. Kintu met her gaze, his resolve hardening. "We need to prepare for battle."

Kintu and the princess quickly joined the castle's defenses. The guards, clad in steel armor with the crest of the Water God on their chests, were already forming ranks. Kintu directed them to fortify key points in the castle, using his knowledge of strategy and the system's intermittent guidance to maximize their chances.

The princess, though still shaken, took charge of the magical defenses. Her flame magic was strong, a gift from her mother's side, and she used it to reinforce the wards around the castle. Her hands moved with practiced precision, her brow furrowed in concentration as she summoned fire runes to line the walls, each one glowing a soft orange before fading into invisibility.

As they worked, Kintu's mind was half on the task at hand and half on the relic he needed to find. The castle was old, full of hidden passageways and traps designed to protect against intruders, but now they had to navigate these obstacles themselves. Their exploration was cut short by a sudden explosion from behind, followed by the sound of heavy footsteps echoing through the stone halls.

Kintu's heart pounded as the first of the enemy relic users appeared, a towering figure clad in heavy, charred armor. The man's presence was overwhelming, his aura radiating heat like a furnace. In his hands, he wielded a massive flaming axe, its blade glowing with an intense, searing light.

The battle was upon them.

The relic user roared, raising his axe high above his head before bringing it down with terrifying speed. Kintu barely managed to dodge, the axes blade slamming into the stone floor where he had stood moments before, sending shards of flaming rock flying in all directions. The heat from the axe singed his hair, and he could feel the power emanating from it, a raw, primal force.

Kintu drew his weapon, a staff now felt woefully inadequate against this monstrous opponent. The system chimed in with warnings, but he had no time to listen. The relic user charged again, swinging his axe in a wide arc. Kintu rolled to the side, the axe missing him by inches. He retaliated with a swift slash to the man's leg, but his staffs spikes barely made a dent in the thick, enchanted armor.

The battle was intense, each of the relic user's attacks threatening to end Kintu 's life in an instant. The heat was unbearable, the air itself seeming to warp and shimmer around the flaming axe. Kintu fought desperately, using every ounce of his skill and the system's guidance to stay one step ahead. His movements were fluid, almost instinctual, a dance of survival as he weaved around the giant's strikes.

The princess, though clearly outmatched in physical combat, supported him with her magic. She summoned flames of her own, sending them streaking towards the relic user, but they were absorbed by the man's armor, feeding the inferno rather than damaging him.

"You cant attack a relic user using their own element they feed off of that." Said the system.

As Kintu fought to protect them both, a second relic user, a shadowy assassin with flames dancing along her katana's blade, slipped through their defenses. She moved with deadly grace; her footsteps silent as she approached the princess from behind. Dressed in all black she stood out her golden hair and striking ebony facial features, made her seem almost gentle.

Kintu caught a glimpse of her too late. She was already upon the princess, her flaming blade pointing at the girl's throat. The princess gasped in shock; her hands raised in a futile attempt to ward off the attack.

"Drop your weapon, or she dies," the flame katana user hissed, her voice like venom.

Kintu froze, his mind racing. He could not let the princess die, but he knew that surrendering would mean both of their deaths. He had to think fast. "What's your name beautiful." he said jokingly. She laughed, "Since you'll be dying soon, I can tell you I'm Razael the Blade."

The system offered no solutions, only a stark reminder of his dwindling chances of survival now at 2%. He was on his own.

In a desperate move, Kintu feigned compliance, lowering his sword slightly. Razael, sensing victory, tightened her grip on the princess. But in that moment, Kintu activated his shadow step ability, disappearing from sight. He reappeared behind Razael, his staff's spikes already in motion.

Razael reacted with inhuman speed, twisting away just in time to avoid a fatal blow. But Kintu's staff still found its mark, slicing through her side. Razael hissed in pain, her grip on the princess faltering.

Seizing the opportunity, Kintu grabbed the princess and pulled her away from Razael's reach. The princess stumbled, but Kintu kept her moving, dragging her towards the relative safety of the shadows.

Just as Lord Malachai himself appeared, stepping out of the shadows as if he had been there all along. His eyes gleamed with a cold, calculating fury, his lips twisted into a cruel smile.

"You've fought well, Kintu," Lord Malachai said, his voice dripping with mockery. "But you are out of your depth. That relic will not save you."

Kintu felt a chill run down his spine. Lord Malachai knew about the relic, about everything. He was no ordinary enemy; he was a relic user of terrifying power and knowledge.

Realizing they were overmatched, the system activated shadow leap, teleporting Kintu, and the princess to a hidden chamber deep within the castle. The last thing he heard before the shadows swallowed him was Lord Malachai 's dark laughter, echoing through the halls like a death knell.

The room Kintu found himself in was dark and oppressive, the air thick with the weight of centuries-old secrets. The dust danced in the sky like a ballet dancer. The princess, still shaken from the ordeal, lit a candle with her flame magic, casting a flickering light that barely illuminated the ancient stone walls.

"This room... it feels different," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly as she took in the eerie atmosphere. The chamber was filled with relics and artifacts that seemed far older than anything she had ever encountered in the castle. Each object radiated a sense of history, a power that had long been dormant.

Kintu felt a familiar tug in his chest as he stepped deeper into the chamber. The relic he had been searching for was close—closer than it had ever been. The system chimed in his mind; its voice calm yet urgent.

"The relic is in here, Kintu. It is crucial for our survival. We need to find it before Lord Malachai returns."

Kintu nodded, scanning the room with his eye and a renewed sense of purpose. The princess joined him, her eyes darting nervously around the chamber. "These artifacts... I do not recognize any of them," she murmured, running her fingers over the smooth surface of an ancient sword. "They're not from my family's history."

Kintu 's brow furrowed as he approached an intricately carved chest in the corner of the room. It was filled with kids' toys. "System, have you located the relic yet?"

"It's close," the system replied, "but something is blocking me from pinpointing its exact location. We need to keep searching."

As they continued their search, Kintu and the princess stumbled upon something that shook them to their core. Hidden among the relics was a collection of ancient scrolls, each detailing a dark chapter in the kingdom's history. The scrolls revealed that the princess's ancestors had used the combined power of the five Water God relics to overthrow the rightful royal family and seize the throne. After their brutal coup, they staged a public execution of the former royal family—a calculated display of power meant to crush any potential opposition. However, one royal child, a little boy, had managed to escape the massacre.

The princess's eyes widened in shock as she read the scrolls. "I... I cannot believe this. My family... they are not the rightful rulers. They took the throne by force."

Kintu 's grip tightened on his staff. The implications of this discovery were staggering. But before he could fully process the information, a loud boom echoed through the chamber, and the wall behind them crumbled into dust.

Standing in the newly formed opening was the old mage, his eyes burning with a mix of rage and triumph. "So, you've discovered the truth," he sneered, stepping into the chamber. "I suppose it's only fitting that you learn of your family's sins before you meet your end."

The princess stared at Lord Malachai in horror. "Who... who are you?"

Lord Malachai 's expression twisted into a cruel smile. "I am the rightful king of this land—the last surviving member of the original royal family, I am Malachai Lordus. Your ancestors stole everything from us. And now, I am here to take it all back."

Kintu stepped in front of the princess, his staff at the ready. "You'll have to go through me first."

Lord Malachai laughed, a cold, mirthless sound. "Oh, I intend to. But do not worry—I will make sure to deal with your father the king before I finish what I started." He raised his hand, and flames began to swirl around him, casting ominous shadows on the chamber walls. The battle erupted with explosive intensity. Lord Malachai summoned a lance of flame magic, but he hesitated, seemingly reluctant to use it. Instead, he unleashed a barrage of deadly flame bullets, their impact causing smoke to rise as they struck the stone floor.

Kintu moved with agility, dodging the incoming projectiles with precise, calculated movements. Despite his efforts, however, Kintu found himself at a disadvantage. Lord Malachai's lightning bullets were relentless, and each impact seemed to wear him down further. The old mage's conjuration of a blazing eagle, a flame familiar, added another layer of peril. The eagle's fierce speed and strength crashed into Kintu, sending him sprawling across the cold, hard floor.

As Kintu staggered, he queried the system about the familiar's power. "This mage is a flame relic user," the system explained. "His mastery of the relic grants him formidable strength. You are at a severe disadvantage with only your single and you lack experience."

Kintu struggled to regain his footing, drawing his staff in an attempt to counter Lord Malachai 's relentless assault. However, Lord Malachai 's flame shield burned through the staff's defenses, leaving Kintu vulnerable. Lord Malachai shattered the shield with a fireball attack, leaving Kintu wounded and disoriented. The princess tried to intervene with healing magic, but a wall of fire conjured by Lord Malachai blocked her, "This is not your battle, my princess," he urged. "Let Kintu handle this. Your safety is paramount."

Despite his injuries, Kintu attempted to use shadow elimination. The shadows were incinerated by Lord Malachai's flames, and the system's voice grew more urgent. "Your chances of survival are now only one percent," it warned. Kintu. Kintu rose again and again, only to be thrown back by Lord Malachai 's powerful attack. Lord Malachai revealed his own mastery of shadow step, further intensifying the battle.

Lord Malachai 's gaze narrowed as he questioned Kintu about his divine allegiance. "All relics should be accounted for," he said. "What deity do you serve?"

Kintu met Lord Malachai 's gaze defiantly. "I don't serve any god."

With a surge of determination, Kintu launched a shadow spear at Lord Malachai. Initially, the attack seemed ineffective, but Kintu increased the spear's speed, eventually striking Lord Malachai. The blow, however, only fueled Lord Malachai 's fury.

Lord Malachai retaliated with a fierce barrage of flame daggers, overwhelming Kintu with their sheer number. Kintu was defeated, his life force drained. Lord Malachai, now victorious, seized the princess, her scream of desperation echoing in the chamber as she was dragged towards the king's room.

The world around Kintu dissolved into darkness the moment he died, his mind slipping into the depths of a vivid world. The scenes unfurled like a haunting tapestry, each thread weaving together the fragments of a painful past.

Kintu opened his eyes, and he was back in Elderville, the town he had always known during a time of peace. He was a child again and this was not a dream it was a memory. The sunbathed the cobblestone streets in a warm glow, while the laughter of children filled the air, mingling with the simple, comforting rhythms of daily life. It was a place where safety and warmth were as dependable as the changing seasons, and where the most pressing concern was the onset of winter.

But that serenity was abruptly shattered when relic hunters from the kingdom of Illumifnati, the God of Light, descended upon Elderville like a dark storm. Their arrival was unmistakable—clad in gleaming armor that reflected the sun's rays, their faces hidden behind ornate golden helmets, they radiated an aura of divine authority and menace. Leading them was a figure of imposing stature, his presence commanding and terrifying. He was surrounded by his cadre of zealots, each one fanatically devoted to their God, their eyes alight with a dangerous zeal as they searched for a relic they believed was hidden in the town.

These followers of the Light God were part of a deadly cult, a group whose unwavering dedication to their deity left no room for mercy. Anyone who dared to question their God met a brutal end, and their reputation for ruthlessness was well-known. The mayor, a venerable and respected figure in the town, stood his ground and denied any knowledge of the relic's whereabouts. His words were resolute, but they were met with a chilling response.

In a display of cold, calculated power, the hunters dragged an elderly citizen into the town square. Without hesitation, they executed the innocent man before the eyes of his neighbors, the life draining from his body as the town watched in horror. The hunters' eyes remained cold and unblinking, their resolve unshaken as they turned their gaze back to the mayor, forcing him to surrender the relic.

When the relic was finally produced, it was not just a single artifact but a collection of pieces that, when assembled, formed a golden necklace adorned with five brilliantly colored stones. The sight of it was both mesmerizing and terrifying, a symbol of unimaginable power. As the leader of the hunters donned the necklace, his followers offered up their own relics to him, triggering a transformation that was as immediate as it was profound. Before the town's eyes, he became the avatar of the Light God—a being of blinding radiance and overwhelming power, his form glowing with an ethereal light that seemed to burn away the very air around him.

But the mayor's defiance did not go unpunished. Enraged by the town's resistance, the leader now the Avatar of the Light God decreed that all the elderly inhabitants of Elderville would be executed as a lesson in divine retribution. Kintu's heart pounded with dread as he watched the horror unfold. His grandmother, a woman of kindness and unwavering strength, was among those condemned to die. The scene was a cruel and heart-wrenching spectacle, the townspeople forced to watch in helpless agony as their loved ones were taken from them, their lives extinguished by a single beam of light in the name of a vengeful god.

In the midst of this chaos, a fire ignited within Kintu. As the blood of his kin mingled with the dust of the town square, he swore an oath of vengeance. The Gods, who had torn his life apart and turned his world into a hell of lights and sorrow, would be destroyed. The Light God would not escape his wrath, nor would any deity who dared to wield their power with such cruelty.

The dream shattered like glass, and Kintu awoke with a jolt. Ring of Life skill activated Death avoided. His breath came in ragged gasps, his heart racing as he shook off the remnants of the nightmare. The oppressive darkness of the dream had given way to the dim, sterile light of the castle room where he lay.

Slowly, he became aware of his surroundings. His body was sore, but the familiar hum of his stats being restored brought a sense of relief. He felt the strength returning to his limbs, and the dull ache of his previous injuries faded as his stats were fully restored. Kintu took a moment to collect himself, shaking off the lingering shadows of the dream.

He glanced around and remembered his staff had been damaged in the recent battle. The once-mighty staff now lay in pieces. Frustration simmered beneath his calm exterior as he scanned the room for an alternative.

On a nearby table, he spotted a random spear, its shaft worn but sturdy. Kintu grabbed it with determination, the cold metal feeling oddly reassuring in his grip. Without wasting another moment, he turned and made his way towards the king's chambers. Each step was fueled by a renewed sense of purpose, the memories of his past burning brightly in his mind.

The castle corridors seemed to stretch endlessly before him, their grandeur now a backdrop to his single-minded goal. Kintu 's steps were purposeful, his resolve unshaken as he navigated the labyrinthine passages. The echoes of his footsteps were a stark contrast to the silence that had settled over the castle, a silence that was soon to be broken by the final showdown.

Kintu 's determination was unyielding. The gods had already taken so much from him, and he would not rest until he had exacted his revenge and brought an end to their reign of terror.

Kintu's boots echoed through the grand, dimly lit corridor of the castle, each step a rhythmic reminder of the chaos that had unfolded. The ornate tapestries lining the walls, once vibrant with scenes of past glories, now seemed to watch in somber silence as he advanced. The golden sconces flickered weakly, casting long, wavering shadows that danced with the flickering flames of distant torches. The heat in the air was palpable, a tangible reminder of the firestorm brewing just beyond the ornate doors leading to the king's chambers.

As Kintu Baganda approached the king's chambers, the air was thick with tension, the weight of the impending confrontation pressing down on him. The corridors leading to the king's room were dark, the flickering torches casting eerie shadows on the cold stone walls. Each step echoed ominously, reminding Kintu that he was deep within enemy territory. Just as he neared the large double doors that led to the king's quarters, a massive figure suddenly emerged from the shadows, blocking his path. The fire relic axe user stood at nearly seven feet tall, his hulking frame covered in burnished armor that gleamed with an unnatural glow. His eyes were alight with a dangerous, wild gleam, and in his massive hands, he wielded a gigantic fire relic axe that radiated intense heat. The brute of a man grinned menacingly, revealing yellowed teeth.

"Names Borak the Inferno and I'll be killing you today no hard feelings, its just my job." he said calmly. "You must be the one causing all the trouble. I have been looking forward to this." Kintu looked at him up and down, unimpressed. "Let me guess," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "You are here to compensate for something, aren't you? I mean, carrying around an oversized toy like that cannot be easy." The fire relic user's grin faltered, his brow furrowing in confusion. "What?" You heard me," Kintu continued, stepping to the side casually. "Oversized axe, oversized armor… you are like a child playing dress-up. What is next, you going to throw a tantrum too?"

 The brute's face turned beet red with anger. "I do not need to take this from you! I eliminate weaklings like you for fun!" he bellowed, raising his massive axe over his head. With a roar, he brought the weapon crashing down, intending to split Kintu in two. But Kintu was faster. With a swift shadow step, he dodged the attack, the axe burying itself into the stone floor with a deafening crash. The force of the blow sent cracks spider-webbing across the ground, and the relic user, off balance, stumbled forward, his own momentum carrying him through a wall with a resounding thud. Kintu crossed his arms, watching as the brute struggled to pull himself from the rubble. "You know," he mused aloud, "for someone so big, you sure are clumsy. I did not think you would actually do it, but you really crashed through the wall. Impressive… in a 'frog bull in a glass shop' sort of way." The fire relic user, now seething with rage, tore himself free from the debris. "You'll pay for that, you little pest!" he snarled.

His grip tightened on the axe, and with a grunt, he began to spin. The air around him started to heat up, and before long, flames erupted from the blade, swirling around him igniting a rapidly growing tornado of fire. Kintu could feel the searing heat even from where he stood, the flames licking at his skin, the air around him becoming almost unbearable. He tried to step back, but the force of the firestorm was too great. The tornado of flames expanded, engulfing everything in its path. The walls buckled under the intense heat, and Kintu found himself being pushed back, his feet sliding across the stone floor. His spear, previously his reliable weapon, caught fire, the flames hungrily consuming the wood. The fire relic user laughed maniacally, the sound booming over the roar of the flames.

"Let's see you dodge this, your cocky little runt!" Kintu gritted his teeth, his mind racing. As he struggled against the fiery onslaught, the system chimed in, its voice calming despite the chaos.

"Alert: A new relic has been added. The Staff of Reaping, hidden within a vault covered in wards. It appears the staff was sealed away long ago, and its presence was masked from detection. It was disguised as an old spear in an attempt to hide it. It Is unclear why it was never claimed."

Kintu's eyes widened as the system relayed this information. "So, my next relic was a plain stick that's helpful." he shouted in frustration as the fire tornado continued to rage around him. The system, seemingly oblivious to his irritation, continued,

"Its abilities may prove advantageous in your current predicament."

Kintu barely had time to process this latest information before the fire tornado shifted, the flames spiraling toward him with renewed intensity.

The system, aware that the Ring of Life was no longer usable, began issuing constant instructions, its voice cutting through the roar of the flames.

"Dodge left. Jump back. Use shadow step. Swing the staff. Activate its other modes."

Frustration boiled over as Kintu struggled to keep up with the relentless commands and brutal assault. "Enough!" he shouted, his anger fueling his determination. With a fierce cry, he gripped the staff and channeled his rage into a single, powerful swing. The staff's flames extinguished in an instant as it transformed into the Staff of Reaping, its dark, ominous form gleaming in the flickering light. The fire relic user, blinded by his own fury, did not see the attack coming. Kintu lunged forward, the Staff of Reaping slicing through the air with deadly precision. The staff struck the brute on top of his head, the force of the blow reverberating through his skull crushing it. The relic user's eyes bulged with shock before rolling back into his head, his body collapsing to the ground with a heavy thud, the fire tornado dissipating into nothingness. Kintu stood over the fallen relic user, breathing heavily, the staff still glowing faintly in his hands. The room was filled with the acrid smell of smoke and burnt wood, the remnants of the firestorm smoldering around him. The system's voice broke the silence, its tone almost apologetic.

"Apologies for the previous attempts at guidance. It appears your instincts were more effective. Please hold out your hand to absorb the relic."

Kintu, still catching his breath, complied, holding out his hand over the fallen fire relic user's axe. The relic glowed briefly before being absorbed into his right palm. As the process completed, the system chimed in again, its tone now more informative.

"Alert: New relic stored. Note that this relic is not part of your current series. As a relic user for the Death God, you are blocked from using relics from other gods. This relic will be stored but cannot be activate

d." Kintu raised an eyebrow. "So, I have a useless relic now? Great."

With the Staff of Reaping now firmly in his possession and the fire relic user defeated, Kintu squared his shoulders and prepared to press forward. He had endured the chaos of the fire tornado, and now, with renewed determination, he moved toward the king's chambers, ready to face whatever awaited him in the heart of the castle.

In the dimly lit chamber, shadows danced on the cold stone walls as Lord Malachai stood before King Cedric Eldertide, his eyes blazing with a madness that had long festered in his heart. His once stately appearance was now marred by wild, unkempt hair and a disheveled robe that barely hung onto his gaunt frame. His face, twisted with rage, resembled that of a rabid beast, and every movement he made was erratic, driven by years of simmering hatred.

"You!" Malachai spat, his voice trembling with fury. "You are nothing but a usurper! A thief who stole my birthright, my throne! I am the true king! It is my bloodline that was meant to rule this kingdom, not yours!"

The room seemed to vibrate with the intensity of his words, the air thick with the palpable tension between the two men. King Cedric, seated on his bed, remained stoic, but the weight of Malachai's accusations caused his daughter, Princess Elara, to flinch. Her eyes darted between the two men, confusion and fear etched into her delicate features.

"Is that true, Father?" Elara asked, her voice trembling as she looked up at him. Her question hung in the air like a blade, poised to sever the bond between them.

King Cedric turned to his daughter, his expression softening as he met her gaze. The lines of age and burden on his face deepened as he sighed, the sound filled with the weight of untold truths." It is more complicated than that," he finally said, his voice low and weary.

"Complicated?" Malachai roared, his eyes bulging with renewed anger. "You destroyed my family, Cedric! You condemned them to death and seized the throne that was rightfully mine!"

The king opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, the heavy wooden doors to the chamber flung open. Kintu stepped inside, his presence commanding as he entered the room. The flickering torchlight caught the gold ring on the simple black string around his neck, glinting as if in acknowledgment of the tension that hung in the air.

Lord Malachai's wild eyes locked onto Kintu, narrowing with suspicion and a touch of fear. "And look who it is?" he snarled, taking in the young man's calm demeanor. "You must be their guardian angel, here to save them from their sins!"

Kintu, his expression unreadable, took a step forward. His voice was steady, almost chilling in calmness. "No," he replied, his gaze never wavering from Malachai's. "I'm something different."

The room fell silent, the tension building like a storm ready to break. Malachai's lips curled into a snarl, and he turned sharply to Razael, the Flame Relic Assassin who stood at his side, cloaked in the deadly aura of power. "Razael," Malachai barked, his voice dripping with malice. "Eliminate him."

The assassin nodded, her eyes glinting with cold determination as she prepared to carry out his master's command.