"What?"
Sauron had clearly stepped back in time, yet a thin line of blood suddenly split across his throat. His eyes widened.
This was no ordinary wound. Any lesser injury would have sealed itself within seconds, yet the cut continued to bleed, stubbornly refusing to close.
"A cursed strike?" Sauron sneered, pressing his fingers to his neck. "You think that kind of trick works on me?"
As one of the most learned of the Maia, he recognized it at once. That slash had not been purely physical. It carried a layered magical effect, laced with a lingering curse. Dark power surged from his palm, devouring the curse outright. The wound sealed shut at last.
Rowan's expression tightened.
That blow had been everything he had. The invisible blade should have sliced stone clean in two. Instead, it had barely opened Sauron's skin, and even its anti-healing effect had been erased with contemptuous ease.
So this was the gap between a mortal and a lesser god.
He didn't press the attack. Instead, Rowan retreated to Finrod's side.
The elven prince was breathing hard. His armor was fractured in multiple places, dark lines scoring the enchanted metal, and blood stained the ground beneath his boots. Without Rowan's interruption, he would not have lasted much longer.
"Restoring charm."
Warm light washed over Finrod as his wounds closed before their eyes.
"Repairing charm."
The cracked armor sealed itself, reforging into its original flawless state.
Rowan already knew the truth. He couldn't kill Sauron alone. Not with his current tools. But Finrod might.
If Rowan could keep him alive, keep him fighting, victory was still possible.
Finrod stared at his restored armor, then at Rowan, genuine astonishment flickering across his face. "If you hadn't warned us in time, we would have walked straight into annihilation. You have my thanks."
"This is what humans should do," Rowan replied calmly. "Right now, all that matters is bringing him down."
Finrod's eyes hardened. Light from the Two Trees flared along his blade as he raised it high. "Then leave him to me. Today, I will take his head."
He launched himself forward in a blaze of gold.
Sauron no longer smiled.
"I was indulging myself," he said coldly, dark power erupting from his form. "It seems I must be serious."
Rowan flashed forward in a burst of lightning, shadowing Finrod's assault.
"Invisible Severance!"
His blade swung again, timing the strike with Finrod's pressure. This time, Sauron didn't retreat. His dark sword cut through the invisible spell itself, shattering the magic and stopping Rowan's blade in the same motion.
"Parlor tricks," Sauron scoffed. "Useless."
"Maybe," Rowan said, lips curling. "Maybe not."
"Disarming charm."
At that distance, there was no room to evade.
Sauron's grip failed him. His dark sword tore free, flung violently aside.
Sauron's eyes narrowed. "Come back."
He reached for the blade, but Rowan was faster. Raw force slammed down on the weapon, pinning it in place as though the earth itself had seized it. The sword still moved, inch by inch, but far too slowly.
That moment was all Finrod needed.
The elven prince stepped in and drove his sword straight into Sauron's chest.
The blade pierced his heart.
Valar and Maia were spirits given flesh, but flesh nonetheless. In Middle-earth, they had bodies with weaknesses. Some wounds were harder to mend than others.
Dark power exploded outward.
The shockwave hurled Rowan and Finrod back, forcing them to retreat as Sauron's magic ran wild, black energy tearing at the ground around him.
The battlefield held its breath.