The peaceful and beautiful lagoon was nowhere to be seen. In its place, dark flames writhed, withering the soil and scorching the earth.
The air was hard to breathe, and the sky turned pitch black, even though it was still noon. The once radiant sun could no longer be seen; its ever-reaching light couldn't pierce the mesmerizing, imperious black light emanating from Karasungur.
Consequently, the already cold weather grew colder and colder as the black light expanded.
And just a while ago, the tenuous connection between him and Kutbike was violently severed.
Karasungur was boiling with a maelstrom of emotions: anger, sorrow, regret, and an unimaginable hatred.
The encroaching black light, now devouring the very sky, was the chilling manifestation of this profound hatred, a physical extension of his shattered heart.
The battle between him and the combined forces of Abra, Kargı, and Cengiz had already raged for more than a day, turning the world into a canvas of their destructive power.
"I swear upon Tengri's name, upon Kizagan, that I, Karasungur, shall erase you and your entire lineage from existence with my black flames!" Karasungur's voice, a roar laden with the weight of ancient authority, vibrated through the distorted air, each word dripping with the absolute, unyielding hatred overflowing from his obsidian eyes.
Kargı was ravaged, battered beyond recognition from his previous striking appearance. His spear-like horn was broken in half, and his once razor-sharp claws were dull like worn stone. He was barely flying, his breathing ragged, each beat of his wings a visible struggle.
Even so, his ability to last this long was a testament to his sheer refinement, particularly with Abra and Cengiz at his side. It was a remarkable feat, considering his opponent was none other than The Black Paragon.
Under Karasungur's earth-shattering threat, his already trembling body seemed to shrink, and he felt as though his very blood was drawn from him by the sheer terror.
However, in stark contrast to Kargı's dire state, Abra and Cengiz were not nearly as hurt.
Abra, a being of Kutdoruk—Rank 9—was expectedly less scathed; his endurance was reasonable. But Cengiz, at Elez—Rank 6—a rank even lower than Kargı, remained as calm and silent as ever, his composure unsettling.
Although he hadn't participated as actively in the direct clash, and in Karasungur's eyes he was not the primary threat, he still got his share of the black flames.
Yet, it was not merely his talent as a swordmaster that allowed him to endure.
He wielded two exceptionally powerful swords, both designed and runed with the ancient Kogftgari technique.
The Kılıj bore intricate runes depicting Abra himself, alongside a long serpentine creature with four clawed legs.
The Yatagan, on the other hand, was etched with the name Yutpa in intricate runes, alongside the image of a long serpentine with a massive, fish-like head, an enormous mouth, four clawed legs, and a forked tail.
Abra mocked Karasungur, his distinctive copper eyes showing no fear, only malicious amusement. "Oh, you noticed finally?" he hissed, his forked tongue flicking.
"Hmm, that must be very painful for you. My deepest condolences." His hoarse laughter echoed, chilling and taunting.
Near him, Kargı, visibly shaken by Karasungur's terrifying declaration, suggested a retreat. "We've finished now, right? There's nothing to—"
Abra's horrifying face twisted, his voice a guttural snarl. "WHAT retreat?! We're only just starting! The funny part has yet to begin!"
Just as Abra finished his words, Karasungur moved with the speed of a vengeful god. Three more pairs of wings, forged from pure, crackling black flames, erupted from his back, propelling him forward in an instant.
He lunged directly at Kargı. The metallic dragon, already exhausted and heavily wounded, couldn't react in time.
Karasungur's massive jaws, wreathed in consuming black fire, slammed shut around Kargı's midsection with a sickening crunch that echoed even over the din of the battle. Kargı's body was instantly torn asunder, a grotesque fountain of ichor and shattered scales erupting into the dark sky.
His half-torn, massive form plummeted from the air, a silent testament to Karasungur's savage rage.
The other part of his body, including his head, its eyes still wide open in a rictus of shock and terror, was held firmly in Karasungur's maw, his black flames consuming Kargı's essence, piece by agonizing piece, dissolving him into nothingness.
Watching Karasungur's brutal act, Abra began to laugh wildly, his hoarse cackle tearing through the air as he slapped his forked tail against the scarred earth. "See, so funny, isn't it?" he hissed, a chilling mirth in his voice.
"However, I guess you won't enjoy this." His eyes narrowed, gleaming with malicious intent. "But don't worry, the fun won't end just with your death. It's just starting! Ah, now that this weakling is dead, we can fight to our heart's content. What do you think, Black Paragon?"
As Kargı was completely consumed by the black flames, Karasungur's voice boomed back, devoid of the earlier weariness, filled only with cold fury. "Don't worry, you worm! I won't end this fun by merely killing Kargı. Neither will I merely kill you. I will also horribly kill your brother, Yutpa!"
With those words, both titans attacked each other with cataclysmic force. The ground beneath them groaned, massive trenches appearing in the earth as if carved by a giant's claw.
The once calm lagoon, now a battlefield, raged with titanic waves, crashing against the shores.
The already dark sky grew even darker, reflecting the intensity of their hatred.
However, in this swirling chaos, one figure remained indifferent to all the changes. Cengiz, knew that even with this two swords, he wouldn't last a breath of time against the fury unleashed.
He watched from a distance, perched on the jagged rocks that lined the nearby coastline. His Razorbill companion, Dumrul, rested calmly on his shoulder. Both figures, seemingly detached, bore an uncanny resemblance in their quiet, unwavering observation.
As they exchanged attacks, the sea level soared, covering the vast shoreline in a churning chaos of water. Yet, in some areas, the water strangely avoided, leaving patches of dry earth filled with raging black flames.
Preparing for another magical assault, Abra hissed, "Seems like you haven't gotten much stronger since our last battle, Black Paragon."
After he spoke, the sea below them surged skyward, waves after colossal waves rising like hungry maws, closing upon Karasungur.
The Black Paragon handled them with ease, responding simultaneously with black thunders that ripped through the air.
Myriad bolts of abyssal lightning, formed from the black light that shrouded the vast expanse, landed with tremendous resistance upon Abra's gargantuan serpentine body.
Meanwhile, in the churning sea below, countless unfortunate beings perished, caught between the thunders and black flames, their hapless corpses drifting like leaves.
Karasungur, his ebony horns shining with an abyssal dark that would make whoever looked upon them shudder, soared high above the chaos, reaching a height where even the colossal waves couldn't touch him.
He was like the incarnation of death, Erlik himself, hovering in the sky with a blood-chilling hatred that had solidified, making its oppressive presence clearly visible to any observer.
Then he roared a single, devastating word: "Kargı!" And with that, he dived, a living comet of pure black flame, straight towards Abra, his ebony horns growing monstrously, tearing through the very fabric of space and time as he descended.
At the sea, Abra looked towards the sky with a mischievous smile—a chilling sight on his monstrous face. "After Sazakan, now also Kargı," he mused, his voice dripping with false sympathy.
"What a treacherous dragon you are." He paused for a beat, his smile widening as he turned, looking towards the jagged rocks on the shoreline where Cengiz stood.
Just then, a mesmerizing, ethereal music began to resonate from within those very rocks, a sound that seemed to weave through the very fabric of reality.
"But you know what?" Abra continued, his voice now laced with triumphant glee. "You already fell into our trap the moment you arrived here. It's too late now."
He stood without defending himself against Karasungur's furious dive, a perverse confidence radiating from him.
Meanwhile, high in the sky, Karasungur felt his very soul come under attack. A crushing pressure seized his essence, his control over his colossal body weakening by the moment.
Hence, his devastating dive towards Abra abruptly stopped in mid-air, making him seem strangely frozen, his momentum gone. Then, with a flash of terrifying realization, he changed his target.
His eyes, now blazing with fury mixed with dawning horror, snapped towards the jagged rocks where the mesmerizing sound originated.
Immediately, without a pause, he prepared another attack. "Karasagu!" he roared, and black flames surged forth from all directions, swirling into an abyssal light.
Within that terrifying darkness, the incandescent black flames flew like a vengeful comet directly towards the rocks.
But where the black flames headed, Cengiz took a ready defensive stance, his very body a testament to his focused intensity. His companion, Dumrul, swiftly flew back, soaring high above him.
Cengiz tore open his linen shirt, revealing his naked, sculpted torso. He untied his topknot, and his long, wavy hair streamed freely, flowing wildly with the chaotic winds.
The churning sea seemed to caress his feet, as if he were a part of its primordial essence, yet holding a higher, commanding rank over it.
His sea-blue, seemingly lifeless eyes now mirrored the raging waves, reflecting their turbulent power as he smoothly unsheathed his Yatagan.
With the music growing louder and louder, yet still ethereal as ever, Karasungur's black flames neared Cengiz.
The man's lips parted, and for the first time, he spoke a single, resonating word: "Ker Yutpa!" He moved with a grace that defied his muscular frame, blocking all of Karasungur's devastating flames with the dull side of his Yatagan.
His movements were like waves sweeping the shore, a fluid, natural momentum that made it feel as if he were not human, but the very embodiment of the sea itself.
As he blocked the flames, his Yatagan shined with a brilliant copper light where the eye design was etched into the blade. Wherever the Yatagan touched the black flames, the flames seemed to be devoured by the sword, vanishing as if consumed. Not a single ember landed on the jagged rocks around him.
Meanwhile, from within the rocks, a veiled figure emerged. Her presence was a stark contrast to the battle's brutal cacophony.
A sheer veil covered her face, yet even beneath it, her beauty defied any logical explanation, radiating an otherworldly perfection.
Her beautiful hands, slender and elegant, moved with breathtaking grace across the strings of her Qanun, pulling forth the mesmerizing, ethereal music that had captivated Karasungur.
Her eyes remained closed, lost in the sublime symphony she was creating, yet somehow directing the unseen forces that shaped the battlefield.