The altar collapsed. 

The now desecrated sacred crypt was shaking under the weight of the confrontation between the two worlds. Above, Shaedra Vorn floated in a whirlwind of shadows and ancestral power. She laughed with insanity, her black eyes burning like holes in the world. 

Underneath, wrapped in antagonistic flashes, were axiel, with their claws wrapped in black light, and Malak, whose holy sword roars with silent fury. 

The shadows of the witch have thrown themselves as default serpents. Axiel fired sharp beams with his hands, which molded into obscure energy blades. Malak advanced in full force, paving the way with the heavenly blade, which burned the night creatures with just the touch. 

The explosions of magical and damn energy illuminated the underground, and lights could be seen to the top of Thalarien's hills, while the sound of the explosions echoed around the city, as if a supernatural storm had awakened under the earth. 

In the side corridor of the altar, Loriel, still invisible to Malak's pupil, guided it between cracked columns and fresh blood. 

- Fast, ladybug! On your left! Children in cages. Watch out for your teeth! 

Aranna spinned her sweaty short sword with her dirty -sooted face and blood. She didn't understand who was talking to her - just followed the instructions with faith. 

"Are you a goddess or just a voice inside my head?" She shouted opened the cage of a small elf. 

- It depends on your musical taste. - Loriel answered, smiling. 

The two ran between columns, overthrowing remains of vampires with accurate blows, protecting the small prisoners. The group of human and ellical children, some wounds, some in shock, followed by the shadows. 

Back in the center of the crypt, Shaedra Rugia, throwing an explosion of absolute darkness. 

Axiel defended himself, but was thrown against a wall of bones. Malak rolled to the floor, the sword falling for a second. 

Shaedra descended, preparing the final blow. But Axiel snapped his fingers. 

His entire hand shone with condensed black energy. 

An obscure beam of light exploded from the palm, shaping on a dark dark blade, as sharp as the empty. 

At the same time, Malak recovered his sacred sword. With a war of war and the fury of justice in the eyes, he spiked the blade in the chest of the vampire witch, crossing meat, shadow and blasphemy. 

Shaedra arched her body, shouting a sound that was not human. 

Axiel, without hesitation, advanced and with a clean cut - beheaded it with its black light blade. 

The head fell, still laughing. The body burst in flaming darkness. The air got heavy. The temple silenced. 

Malak and Axiel fell on their knees, panting, covered with blood and dust. Dirty, injured ... but alive. 

They stared at each other. For a moment, each thought of ending right there, killing the other. The weapons were still in hand. But something ... stopped both of them. 

Loriel, carrying a child by the hand, appeared with Aranna. 

- They gave up killing themselves. I bet on it. - Commented Loriel. 

- Were you betting? Asked Aranna, suspicious. 

- Always. 

Axiel broke the blades. Malak kept the sword. And at that moment, none of them were an enemy. 

Hours later - Thalarien 

Under applause and tears, Malak and Aranna drove, still limping, the group of children rescued through the city streets. 

Elves and humans came out of the houses, some in shock, some clapping. Shouts of joy came from mothers and fathers who recognized their children. 

A human woman collapsed at Aranna's feet, crying and thanking. An old elf offered wine to Malak, who only lowered his head in respect. 

- They ... applaud us. murmured Aranna, not believing. 

- For the first time. Replied Malak, still incredulous. - For the first time, they don't call us monsters or fanatics. 

Axiel, from the nearby shadows, watched. Loriel floated beside him. 

- What happened to the vampire who bit the girl? she asked. 

- Dead. It was in the middle of the horde. I smelled the girl's blood on him as I torn her throat. Said Axiel. 

- So it's over. 

- For tonight.

...

Days later. 

News spread. 

"Holy paladin and wandering vampire save the city of Thalarien." 

"Human children and elders released from unholy ritual." 

"Impossible unit between light and darkness?" 

Rumors ran through the woods, tavern, churches, camps and palaces. 

In the south, in addition to the Kaar mountains, a floating crystal fortress emerged between the clouds - the symbol of the Arcane Kingdom of Velaron, isolated for centuries. 

There, ancient wizards debated in gold chambers. 

- It's time to intervene. said the Archimago Tholmeras. - Before church and elves destroy themselves mutually. 

Messages were written, sealed with gold and magic. 

At Aeltherion's Palace, Aether Van Lanfoi received the letter in hand. Elena was beside her, in silence. The seal was unmistakable - the arcan coat of arms. 

Aether read it low. 

- "Call for Peace Conference. ARCAN KINGDOM OF VERARION requests the presence of leaders of faith and forest." 

On the other side of the continent, in the white cathedral, the Holy Primate of the Church also held his letter. His hands trembled. 

- Arcana ... 

On the altar behind him, the statue of the sun god, before serene stone, now ... smile subtly. 

A crack came down from his forehead to his mouth. 

And in the silence of the temple ... the sound of a whisper traveled the walls.