The Queen's death scream and uncontrolled burst of power had consumed nearly three-quarters of her massive mana reserve.
Yet even after such a catastrophic expenditure, she still possessed enough power to annihilate armies.
But now she stood alone.
Her god had abandoned her.
Her generals were dead.
Her king was ash.
Her army was retreating.
And the man she had cursed, deceived, and underestimated was walking toward her with the casual confidence of someone strolling through a park.
Jax Darquebane carried Peacemaker in his right hand.
Not raised.
Not poised.
Just resting comfortably at his side.
Like he had already won.
Because in truth, he had.
The Queen hovered above the battlefield, dark green flames coiling around her skeletal frame.
She considered fleeing.
But her floating magic was too slow.
Jax would catch her.
She considered climbing higher into the sky.
But her mana was draining rapidly.
Eventually she would fall.
No.
There was only one path left.
Kill him.
Now.
With a scream of desperation, she hurled a massive bolt of dark-green fire.
The projectile roared across the battlefield.
Jax never broke stride.
He casually flicked Peacemaker upward.
The giant blade swatted the magical blast aside as though batting away an insect.
The attack veered sharply left and exploded in the far distance.
The detonation shook the earth and thundered across the plains.
The Queen stared.
Then fired again.
Jax swatted that one aside too.
Another explosion bloomed to the right.
Still he walked.
Calm.
Measured.
Unstoppable.
She launched a rapid succession of smaller, faster attacks.
Jax transitioned from a leisurely walk to a slow jog.
Each swing of Peacemaker redirected her magic harmlessly into the empty countryside.
Explosions erupted behind him like distant artillery.
The Queen began drifting backward.
"No. No, no, no…"
Her attacks came faster.
Jax accelerated.
Now running.
Still deflecting every shot.
Every step brought him closer.
Every failed attack deepened her terror.
"This can't be happening!"
Jax said nothing.
He only closed the distance.
When he was within striking range, Jax leapt.
Peacemaker crashed into her invisible barrier.
For an instant, resistance held.
Then the magical shield shattered like glass.
The Queen recoiled.
Real fear filled her burning eyes.
She landed on the ground and stumbled backward.
With trembling hands, she cast another barrier.
Jax cut through it.
She cast another.
He shattered that one too.
Again and again.
Barrier.
Break.
Barrier.
Break.
Each swing of Peacemaker erased another layer of her protection.
At last, panic overtook her composure.
"Just who the hell are you?"
Jax advanced through the debris of her failing magic.
"Jax Darquebane."
He destroyed another barrier.
"Merchant."
Another.
"Adventurer."
Another.
"Husband."
The final barrier shattered.
Jax stepped forward.
"King."
The Queen froze.
For one fleeting moment, emotion flickered across her face.
Fear.
Regret.
Sorrow.
Betrayal.
Then hatred consumed it all.
If she could not kill him—
She would destroy everything he loved.
The Queen dropped to her knees.
She drew upon every remaining reserve of mana.
Then she fed it with her own life force.
Dark-green and violet energy exploded around her.
The air warped.
The ground cracked.
The very atmosphere screamed.
This was not a spell.
It was a detonation.
A suicidal final attack meant to consume Jax, the United Kingdoms, and herself in one apocalyptic burst.
Jax narrowed his eyes.
He could feel the heat.
The pressure.
The corruption.
He moved forward anyway.
Peacemaker spun in a figure-eight pattern before him, carving through the torrents of energy.
Even so, some of the magic slipped through.
His skin blistered.
His arms blackened.
The side of his face scorched.
But he kept advancing.
One step.
Then another.
The Queen laughed wildly.
"I will kill you!"
Another step.
"And all of those bitches you love!"
Closer.
The magical inferno became blinding.
But Jax saw her.
He saw exactly where she was.
And he took one final step.
Then Jax vanished.
To most observers, he became a blur.
To others, it looked as though he had teleported.
Only a handful of elite warriors could track what happened next.
Jax moved faster than the eye could follow.
Peacemaker became a whirlwind.
The first strike severed her arm.
The second took her other arm.
Then her legs.
Then her torso.
Then her head.
Then he continued.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Each pass reduced her further.
Hundreds of cuts.
Thousands.
Until the Queen was no longer a body.
She was fragments.
Tiny twitching pieces scattered across the battlefield.
The inferno vanished.
Silence fell.
Jax stood amidst the remains.
Breathing hard.
Smoke rising from his scorched skin.
Around him lay hundreds—perhaps thousands—of pieces of the Queen.
Yet impossibly, they still moved.
An eye blinked.
A severed jaw twitched.
A fragment of cheek quivered.
She was still conscious.
Still alive.
Still aware.
Jax stared down at one of her eyes.
It looked back at him with naked terror.
For a brief moment, he considered preserving the pieces.
Separating them into boxes.
Burying them in different corners of the world.
Letting her remain conscious forever.
It was a tempting thought.
But this was a world of magic.
And he was not willing to gamble on her return.
Jax stepped on a fragment of jaw.
It shattered beneath his boot.
He reached into his inventory and produced another vial of holy oil.
Methodically, he poured the liquid over every piece.
Every twitching fragment.
Every blinking eye.
He paused over one particularly terrified eyeball.
A drop of oil fell directly onto it.
Jax smirked.
"Looks like your plan fell to pieces."
Even in the aftermath of the greatest battle of his life, he still found time for a terrible dad joke.
Satisfied, he turned and began walking away.
Then he raised his voice.
"Dante! Light her up!"
High above, Dante wheeled through the sky.
The great Flame Dragon folded his wings and dove.
The Queen's remaining eye turned upward.
She could not move.
Could not scream.
Could only watch.
And then she heard a voice.
Cold.
Ancient.
Her god.
"You are no longer worthy of my power."
The realization struck her a heartbeat before Dante unleashed his breath.
Molten fire engulfed the holy oil.
The resulting explosion shook the battlefield.
White and crimson flames consumed every fragment.
Bone.
Flesh.
Magic.
Soul.
All reduced to ash.
There would be no resurrection.
No hidden contingency.
No second chance.
The Queen was gone forever.