The Third Prince did not die easily. The struggle that resulted as he fought for his life was not pretty or noble, it was not a glorified thing when dealing with death, and when you added Rowan’s bitterness against the Third Prince and his wish to end the great weight hanging over his neck since the time of his birth, it did not create a bearable sight for the weak of mind.

Rowan did not find back, millennia of anger and suffering were returned, all of which was channeled under a cold rage that meant every single move he made was perfect.

Reduced to a mortal by the bridge, and overwhelmed by Rowan’s power and weapons, the Third Prince was slowly worn down. With a single arm and lying flat on his back, he fought with a skill that defied meaning, his arsenal of weapons was seemingly endless, but Rowan at this moment had gone insane.

It was a cold sort of insanity where he no longer cared what weapons the Third Prince could pull out from his endless vault, or the might of his Aetherium bolts, he simply batted the weapons aside, powered through the Aetherium blasts, and kept hammering down.

Ascension ensured that he would remain at his peak and slowly but surely, even with his devastated body, Rowan began to slowly gain the advantage as Ascension began to compound his powers with every moment that passed. Previously, Rowan had to use a couple of moments to tear off the weapons and divert the spells and techniques unleashed by the Third Prince, but shortly the duration he used to break the power of the Third Prince continually reduced, and soon his weapons began to tear into the flesh of the Third Prince.

Despite all this, it was a close thing keeping the Third Prince down, as he erupted with varied abilities and there was a particular trying moment where Rowan had seemingly been overwhelmed by the number of abilities the Third Prince had unleashed, pushing him back a couple of steps and it seemed that his foe was about to escape his grasp but then Rowan snapped his fingers and a bright white flame consumed the Third Prince slamming him back to the ground and allowing Rowan to press him again.

This white flame was the Lost Flames. When Lost had seemingly sacrificed himself to hold back the Third Prince, his flames had been able to touch the Third Prince, albeit briefly, although his power was shattered moments later, a dying fragment of Lost still hung around the body of the Third Prince.

Rowan had detected the Lost Flames a while back but he chose to leave it as a trump card, and he began to repeatedly play this card against the Third Prince, detonating the flames of Lost and consuming his techniques leaving him open to his attacks.

Try as he might, it was almost impossible for the Third Prince to destroy the Lost Flames that had corrupted his Aura when it was being actively fueled by Rowan’s Ascension technique. This turned out to be the final stroke that broke the Third Prince. The Lost Flame had quietly dug itself into the depths of the Third Prince Aura, making it quite impossible for him to predict when there would be a flare-up.

It was a miracle that the Third Prince had resisted for so long, but he was stubborn, fighting to the last. Nearly all the bones in his body had been shattered, his essential organs including two of his hearts were gone, and the last had barely half of itself remaining. His madness and disbelief that his life could ever be threatened held him steady and he seemed to be pulling from the same source of motivation that Rowan was drawing from.

This motivation did not help him, it only extended his suffering far beyond what any mortal creature should endure. Rowan could have ended it earlier with his Ouroboros Serpents, but he was wary of any last desperate move from the Third Prince and he made do with his weapon. After a while his arsenal of tricks ran dry and his weapons were broken, to fully empower his techniques and spell, he needed his Immortal body to be functioning at a hundred percent capacity. It was difficult enough to keep himself alive, he could barely unleash a single percent of the power he was able to.

Realization and fear continued building in his eyes, as the form of Rowan shrouded his vision and took the place of the heavens. Rowan in his mind had transformed into an Avatar of destruction and death, raining down fury unending on him, the world reduced to fighting for every second, hoping, even praying that a single space would open for him to take advantage of.

He screamed inside his head, ‘I have lived for too long. I have fought for many eternities, it cannot end like this. I was destined to be the head that wears the crown. It cannot end… it **ing cannot end here… all my glory and light, to be snuffed out in the hands of a… pup.’

It seemed to take hours, with the Third Prince defending himself with everything in his arsenal, but soon, he was left with only his head and a small part of his chest. He was spent, in the end, fighting back with only small strings of muscles, he had defended his life with everything. Rowan nodded his head in acknowledgment to his Spirit, he would have been disappointed if, at the end of everything, the Third Prince had not fought with a rage that defied meaning.

Knowing that he was finished, the Third Prince chuckled, “Aahh… I should have seen it earlier… in your eyes. You never had a doubt about your eventual victory, every moment you have lived was in preparation for this day, this moment where you stand before your maker, and strike him down. I wanted to create something special, but it turned out that I underestimated my creation, I think I might have created a monster that defies any sort of meaning in the grand scheme of things.”

Rowan’s eyeless face regarded the Third Prince and he brought forth his hand and collected the fragment of the Lost Flame which had taken the shape of a small tongue of white flame with two inquisitive eyes peering from it.

As Rowan drew the Lost Flames to his side, the joyful flame looked upon the horrifying visage of Rowan and cringed in fear, and he closed his eyes tight but the gentle touch of his creator made the Lost Flames open his eyes and he purred in contentment when Rowan placed him on his left shoulders.

Turning to the Third Prince, Rowan remained silent; instead, he poured another percent of his Destroyer’s power into Envy and Pride, deepening the darkness of the weapon.

The head of the Third Prince panicked, “Wait… wait. You should stop doing this Romion, surely you should know that your birth came by my hand, you are killing your father.”

Rowan stopped and the Third Prince’s eyes opened in disbelief, he gasped, the only eye remaining in his ravaged skull looking around in panic, a million thoughts running through his mind at every moment,