Victorious

Kael's eyes narrowed as he observed Malakar's movements. The demon lord's chest heaved with every breath, his once-precise strikes now sluggish and heavy. Sweat mixed with rain dripped from his brow, and his previously unyielding stance wavered. Kael seized on these signs of fatigue, feeling a surge of hope.

This was his moment. Summoning the combined fury of his celestial and demonic heritage, a surge of power, fueled by his role as a celestial guardian and also a demon prince, coursed through Kael. His obsidian wings unfurled, catching the wind as he launched himself towards Malakar. His claws a blur of obsidian and blue light. Each strike was a testament to his lineage, each blow a promise that he would not falter.

Gone was the defensive Kael. This Kael was a whirlwind of obsidian fury. Claws, imbued with celestial energy by his guardian power, ripped through the air, leaving trails of shimmering blue light. Malakar, caught off guard by the sudden shift in tactics, barely managed to raise his arm in a block. Kael's claws raked across the demon lord's forearm, drawing a roar of pain.

The tide had turned. Malakar, weakened by the prolonged battle, struggled to defend himself against Kael's relentless assault. Each swipe of Kael's claws left a burning mark on Malakar's hulking form. The storm itself seemed to falter, the wind whipping around Kael in a frenzy, mirroring his own growing fury.

Malakar, fuelled by desperation, attempted to unleash a bolt of violet lightning, but Kael was a blur of obsidian and blue light. With a powerful swipe, he knocked the forming energy aside, the bolt dissipating harmlessly into the churning clouds.

Finally, with a roar that shook the very earth, Kael landed a direct blow. His claws sank deep into Malakar's chest, the celestial energy and his demonic energy combined, searing through the demon lord's flesh. Malakar screamed, a sound of pure agony that ripped through the storm. He stumbled back, his eyes wide with shock and defeat.

Kael ripped his claws free, a spray of blood arcing through the air. He stood tall, his chest heaving, but his eyes blazed with an unwavering determination. Malakar, defeated and broken, crumpled to his knees, the storm's fury dying down with him.

In the center of the cratered battlefield, Malakar lay broken. Smoke rose from his singed flesh, and a dark ichor stained the ground where Kael had ripped him open. Kael, battered but triumphant, stood over the fallen demon lord, his obsidian wings slowly retracting.

Malakar, his voice ragged and weak, rasped, "You...you cannot kill me."

Kael met his gaze, his own burning with cold fury. The raw power of his guardian and demon nature thrummed beneath his skin, a wellspring of protective rage and a desire to end Malakar. Yet, amidst the surge of emotions, a flicker of something else flickered – a sliver of hesitation.

Taking a deep breath, Kael quelled the storm within him. He wasn't a mindless beast and he certainly wasn't a creature fueled solely by the destruction of his opponent. He was a great leader, not a ruthless one. "I could, Malakar," he said, his voice ringing clear through the desolate landscape. "But I have no interest in killing you, you are defeated. You are hereby exiled from the realm of Zaron. Never again shall you set foot on our soil, never again shall you threaten or have any allegiance with any demon of Zaron for my throne."

Malakar coughed, a wet, rasping sound. "Exile?"

"Yes. You are no longer welcome in my realm," Kael countered, his voice firm. "You have lost the battle, Malakar. Now leave, and never return."

Silence stretched between them, thick with the weight of the moment. Malakar, his eyes narrowed, seemed to be assessing Kael. Finally, a grudging respect flickered in their depths.

"You fight well, Prince," he rumbled, his voice surprisingly devoid of malice. "Perhaps your respect is... earned." He paused, a flicker of something akin to surprise crossing his features. "Though... tell me, Prince," he rasped, "whose blood flows through your veins to grant you such resilience and power?"

Kael straightened, a flicker of pride igniting within him. "I am Kael, son of Leor—the Celestial Guardian and Demon King, and grandson of King Aamon— the Primordial Demon King!"

The revelation struck Malakar like a physical blow. His eyes widened in recognition, his voice dropping to a reverent whisper. "Leor..." he breathed, the word laced with awe. "The savior of the realms... the one who defeated Xal'dar...and eliminated the Devourer..."

Kael watched Malakar, feeling a sense of ease as the demon lord's reverence became apparent. He had heard tales of Xal'dar defeat and the banishment of the Devourer when he was a child. His mother—Shania, told him the story of how she and his father defeated Xal'dar but the weight in Malakar's voice hinted at something that must've been cataclysmic.

"You know of him?" Kael asked, curiosity battling with suspicion.

Malakar nodded slowly, a flicker of fear replacing the grudging respect in his eyes. "Leor... your father...is a legend. He and his companions defeated Xal'dar and banished the Devourer, an entity of pure annihilation that threatened to consume all existence. They were the first guardians to fight for the realms. The ancients chose them."

A million questions swirled in Kael's mind, but before he could voice them, Malakar continued. "You are a worthy descendant, Prince Kael. May your reign be long and prosperous. I will consider this exile a...kind gesture. Farewell Demon Prince."

With a final, lingering look at Kael, Malakar closed his eyes and focused his remaining energy. The air around him shimmered, and the veil ripped open in the sky.

Exhausted but resolute, Kael watched as Malakar, defeated and humbled, dragged himself through the veil. As the veil snapped shut and the last vestiges of the storm dissipated, a profound silence settled over the battlefield. Kael stood tall, the heavy weight of his victory pressing down on him. The air, now still and clear, was thick with the scent of damp earth and ozone. Kael's body, fully healed thanks to his regenerative abilities, showed no sign of the brutal conflict he had endured.

Mieza and the Wind Demons rushed to Kael's side, relief and awe etched on their faces.

One by one, the Wind Demons stepped forward, each placing a hand over their heart and bowing their head in a gesture of solemn commitment. "We swear allegiance to you, Prince Kael. Our strength, our loyalty, and our lives are yours to command."

The battlefield echoed with the collective pledge, a powerful affirmation that resonated through the very winds. Kael felt a surge of pride and responsibility as he looked at the determined faces before him.