The plains shook as Igris and Tarnak collided.
Their blades met in a shower of sparks....Igris's greatsword against Tarnak's iron-hard fists. The impact sent shockwaves rippling across the battlefield, carving trenches into the earth and scattering dust into the air. For a moment, the two combatants hung in the balance, their weapons locked, their eyes burning with mutual recognition.
Tarnak's green eyes blazed with fury. His form was deceptively human—lean, muscular, unremarkable at first glance. But his skin gleamed with a metallic sheen, his muscles coiled with impossible strength. He was the Monarch of the Iron Body, the King of Monstrous Humanoids, and he had never been challenged by a mere shadow.
"YOU DARE!" Tarnak's voice thundered across the battlefield, his rage palpable. "A shadow! A mere shadow dares to stand against me!"
Igris did not respond. His crimson cape billowed in the wind, his greatsword held steady. His helmet revealed nothing...no expression, no emotion, no fear. He simply raised his blade and attacked again.
Tarnak blocked with his forearm, the greatsword clanging against his iron skin. Sparks flew, but the blade did not penetrate. Tarnak's grin widened.
"Foolish shadow," he spat. "My body is iron. My skin is steel. Your blade cannot harm me." He shoved Igris back, sending the shadow skidding across the ground. "This is your last chance. Guide me to the Shadow Monarch, and I will let you live. Continue this foolishness, and I will destroy you."
Igris rose without a word. His greatsword was already in motion, carving a path toward Tarnak's throat. The Monarch sidestepped, his fist slamming into Igris's chest.
The impact sent Igris flying. He crashed into a rocky outcropping, the stone shattering around him. He rose again, his form flickering but intact.
Tarnak laughed. "Stubborn. I like that. It makes the breaking more satisfying."
The battle continued.
Igris was fast...faster than any shadow had a right to be. His sword mastery was absolute, each strike precise, each movement calculated. He carved lines of darkness through the air, his blade finding gaps in Tarnak's defense that should not have existed.
But Tarnak was a Monarch.
His iron body absorbed the blows, his fists finding their mark with brutal efficiency. He was a master of close-quarters combat, his movements fluid and devastating. Each punch cracked the air. Each kick sent shockwaves rippling through the ground.
He caught Igris's blade with his palm, the edge scraping against his iron skin. He twisted, wrenching the sword from Igris's grip, and drove his knee into the shadow's chest.
Igris flew backward, his form flickering, struggling to maintain cohesion.
Tarnak advanced, his grin savage. "You are a persistent one. I will give you that." He picked up Igris's fallen sword, examining it with disdain. "But persistence is not the same as strength."
He drove the blade through Igris's chest.
The shadow crumbled, his form dissipating into mist. Tarnak laughed, throwing the sword aside.
"Pathetic," he said. "Is that all the Shadow Monarch's forces have to offer?"
The mist reformed.
Igris rose from the shadows, his body whole, his greatsword already back in his hand. His crimson cape billowed, his helmet revealing nothing.
Tarnak's eyes widened. "What?"
He attacked again, his fists driving into Igris's chest. The shadow crumpled, but rose again. He crushed Igris's skull with a single blow. The shadow reformed. He tore Igris apart with his bare hands. The shadow rose again.
"ENOUGH!" Tarnak roared, his fury reaching its peak. "I will kill you a thousand times if I must!"
Igris stood before him, silent, unyielding.
Tarnak lunged.
The shadows beneath Igris moved.
A sword emerged from the darkness....not Igris's greatsword, but something else. Something ancient. Something crackling with lightning.
Damien's voice echoed in Igris's mind.
'Here... show him why you are my leading shadow.'
The lightning sword of Baran.
Tarnak's eyes widened as he recognized the weapon. "That... that is impossible!" He stumbled back, his iron body suddenly feeling less invincible. "Why does a mere shadow have access to the Demon King's blade?!"
Igris did not answer.
He lunged.
The lightning sword carved through the air, arcs of blue energy trailing behind it. Tarnak raised his arms to block....and for the first time, his iron skin cracked.
The blade cut deep, drawing black blood from the Monarch's arm. Tarnak screamed, more from shock than pain.
"You..." he snarled, his eyes blazing with rage. "You dare...."
Igris attacked again. The lightning sword danced in his hands, each strike faster than the last. Tarnak was forced to dodge, to retreat, to abandon his favored close-quarters combat.
He was afraid.
"ME AFRAID?!" Tarnak's voice cracked with indignation. "I am the Monarch of the Iron Body! I fear nothing!"
But his body betrayed him. He stepped back, his eyes tracking the lightning sword's movements with desperate intensity.
Igris pressed his advantage.
The lightning sword carved arcs of destruction across the battlefield. Each swing forced Tarnak further back, further from his comfort zone. The Monarch's iron skin was cracked, bleeding, his confidence shattered.
Igris moved in close.
Tarnak saw the opening and lunged....his pride overriding his caution. His fist drove toward Igris's chest, but the shadow was already gone. Igris ducked under the blow, his foot sweeping Tarnak's legs out from under him.
The Monarch fell.
Igris's lightning sword descended.
It carved through Tarnak's neck like paper. The Monarch's head separated from his body, his eyes wide with disbelief. His body crumpled, the iron skin fading to dull, lifeless grey.
Igris stood over the corpse, his lightning sword crackling with residual energy.
For a long moment, he was silent.
Then he spoke.
"You were not worth challenging my Master."
He turned, his form flickering, his rank rising. The shadows around him deepened, his presence growing stronger. He had become something more.
A Marshal.
He walked away, leaving Tarnak's body behind. The battle was won. But the war was far from over.
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