King Mori approached the meeting place, his heavy steps echoing across the rocky ground near the coast. The wind carried the salty scent of the sea, mixed with the smell of earth worn by time. He spotted him immediately: Toru, in his desert garments, standing motionless, axe in hand, still stained with blood from the last confrontation.
Hatred consumed Mori. It was a deep, unyielding hatred, one that could not be softened by power or years of reign. Every fiber of his being screamed for the story to end, for everything to conclude once and for all. In Mori's heart, there was no longer politics, no kingdom strategies. All that remained was the pure desire to make the one who had caused him such loss pay.
On the other side, Toru regarded him with cold determination. There was no fear, no hesitation. Only a burning fire for justice, for the vengeance of a life stolen — his grandmother, the one who had raised him, who had given him everything he knew, had been taken by fate. Everything now culminated under their eyes in an inevitable confrontation.
"Let's end this now… once and for all," Mori said, his low voice heavy with tension.
The Serpent God's Ring glowed on his finger, turning his presence into something legendary. The sword Toru had known from countless duels had been passed to the royal guards to strengthen them. But Mori was no weakling. His ring had reached its third form: from his sleeve slithered a serpent-like tail, and both of his eyes gleamed like those of a gigantic reptile, ready to strike.
Toru stood opposite him, wearing the stag ring in its second form, the antler emerging from his palm, the stag's eye shining with sharp attention, and his axe — the same one with which he had once slain the Stag King — ready, its familiar weight an extension of his arm.
The battle began.
Toru was fast, agile, his movements fluid and precise. Leaps, strikes, pivots — he danced around Mori's attacks with almost animal grace. But Mori was not just strong — he was calculated, anticipating, slippery as a serpent ready to strike at any moment. Every blow he delivered was accompanied by a prediction of Toru's movements; every step he took seemed to float above the ground, making him appear invisible and inevitable at once.
Toru's antler sliced through the air, faintly glinting in the sunset, yet each of his attacks was parried or deflected by Mori's serpent tail or his lightning-fast reflexes. The sounds of metal clashing and magical energy colliding reverberated across the coast, mingling with the howl of the wind and the murmur of the sea.
In an instant, Mori lunged sideways, a move that seemed impossible, his tail striking the antler and blocking Toru's attack for a fraction of a second. Toru felt the force vibrate through his arm but did not retreat. He recalibrated, pivoted, and struck from an impossible angle, yet Mori, sliding like water, evaded with a cold smile.
Every second was a duel of experience versus pure speed. Toru tried to read Mori, to anticipate his moves and leverage his own physical superiority. Mori, however, turned every strike into opportunity, every backward step of his opponent calculated to draw him into an invisible trap.
The air was thick with tension, each breath a sign of power and will. Mori flexed his muscles, his ring pulsing with reptilian energy, ready to transform any touch into a lethal strike. Toru, in turn, felt every fiber of his body awaken, each reflex of his axe prepared to strike with deadly precision.
And yet, even in the midst of the fight, their eyes met — the eyes of a boy who had lost everything and a king who refused to leave anything unresolved. The emotions were not just actions; they were weapons, as real and dangerous as any sword or antler.
Each moment stretched, prolonged, a second containing centuries of pain, hatred, and the desire for closure.
The battle between Toru and Mori intensified, each breath charged with hatred and determination. But now something was different. Mori had entered a form no one had ever seen before. The Serpent God's Ring pulsed with unimaginable force, transforming him into an avatar of his own power: his eyes shone completely like a giant serpent's, the sinuous tail extended and undulated as if alive, and long, sharp fangs sprouted between his teeth. Venom trickled from his mouth, a luminous green fluid dripping onto his black robe and the stones of the coast. Toru felt a chill crawl up his spine.
"Now you will truly feel my wrath…" Mori said, his voice a harsh mixture of human tone and serpentine hiss.
Toru tensed, feeling the weight of the moment. This was no longer just a physical fight. It was a duel of instinct, memory, and pure will. Every movement of Mori's was calculated, fluid, unpredictable. The serpent tail coiled around Toru's arm like a living whip, blocking attacks and forcing him to pivot with agility.
Toru's antler cut through the air, glinting in the sunset, yet every clash with Mori's tail sent vibrations through his arm, energy shocks coursing through his body. Mori was no longer a man; he was a creature possessed by the Serpent God, reptilian agility and intelligence fused with the fury of a king who had nothing left to lose.
"No… I will not yield," Toru thought aloud, his eyes fixed on Mori's fangs. "You will not escape unpunished!"
Their attack became a deadly choreography. Mori lunged sideways, fangs flashing in the dim light, trying to bite, venom spilling onto the rocky ground. Toru dodged with agility, smelling the acrid substance. His antler struck with precision, each move calculated, but Mori was unpredictable. He moved like water — fluid, fast, always a step ahead.
Each parried strike, each backward step was accompanied by electric tension in the air. The wind whipped around Mori's tail and robe, while sparks of energy shimmered around them. Toru felt his stag ring pulse, charging him with a calm yet intense energy, his antler becoming an extension of his will.
Mori struck with a swift, sinuous tail, nearly invisible, but Toru twisted and countered with a lateral leap, striking the tail with his antler. The venom dripped, yet the fangs and serpent eyes continued to haunt him. Mori rolled across the rough stones, returning immediately with incredible speed.
"Do you want to end it all? Toru!" Mori shouted, his voice blending human fury and the serpent's hiss.
"Yes!" Toru replied sharply, thinking of his grandmother and all the losses that had led him here. "But you will pay!"
In that instant, their golden and green antler-tips collided in an explosion of energy. Toru's antler and Mori's tail struck simultaneously, pushing them back. The ground vibrated beneath their feet. Every impact sent ripples through the air, making the nearby waves tremble and the stones jump.
The battle had become not just a physical confrontation but a war of wills. Toru felt every fiber of his body awaken, each reflex fueled by pain and the desire for vengeance. Mori, in turn, was a whirlwind of fury and precision, possessed by the Serpent God, each venomous bite and strike calculated to destroy.
And yet, their eyes met again and again — two adversaries who understood that this fight was not just about power but about ending destinies.
Toru felt his strength faltering. His muscles burned, his breath came in ragged gasps, yet his mind was clear as shattered crystal, sharp with pain and determination. He could not, would not, lose. Before him stood not just a king, but the man responsible for his grandmother's death, the only person who had raised him and given him roots.
As fury and grief surged, his eyes transformed. No longer a single stag eye, but two, shining with pure, merciless light. From his forehead, an antler slowly, steadily emerged. The Stag King's energy, the memory of his grandmother, left an ever-deepening mark. The ring entered its Third Form, and his entire being vibrated with a speed and power Toru had never known.
Mori blinked, shocked by the abrupt transformation of his adversary. Every movement of Toru became lightning-fast, unpredictable, yet with a clarity that cut through the soul. Every strike of the axe, every jab of the antler was not merely a physical assault but an expression of pain, lost love, and vengeance condensed into this one moment.
In a rapid, almost poetic sequence, Toru managed to cut Mori's tail, halving his advantage. The serpent's fangs were destroyed one by one, shattered by the antler emerging from Toru's palm, leaving Mori stunned and powerless against the attacks.
But Mori did not yield. Even without tail, without fangs, and with his reptilian eyes burning with fury, he found an unpredictable move, attempting to strike Toru. In that moment, Toru's forehead antler moved instinctively, slicing through the air with deadly precision and piercing Mori's heart.
The Serpent King fell to his knees, trembling under the weight of defeat and his own guilt. He breathed heavily, eyes once full of hatred and rage now filled with regret and sorrow. Toru stood still, looking directly at him, feeling as if the entire story, the pain of his childhood, and all the gathered fury, reached its conclusion.
"I'm sorry…" Mori said, his voice weak, almost human for the first time. "It's all… it's all my fault. Not anyone else. I am the one who brought her death…"
Toru felt a strange mix of fury and emptiness in his chest. Before he could respond, the king continued:
"Please… do not kill Yuta. He is… my son."
Toru swallowed hard, thinking of the boy, innocent and unaware of the destiny that had almost claimed him. Silence fell over the coast, the wind carrying the smell of salt and metal. Their story had ended, yet the echo of what had happened lingered in the air, engraved into the stones and hearts of those who survived.
Toru breathed deeply, knowing the fight had been not only about power, but about justice, pain, and reconciliation with his past. One thing was certain: the scar of this confrontation, though closed, would never fade.