The glass-like surface of the water was broken when the Vile Thieving Bird plunged into it, sending a towering plume of foam into the air and erasing the reflection of the Demon of Destiny from the surface of the Great River.
However, the damage had already been done.
The Thieving Bird would have easily endured being exposed to the echo of a daemon's killing intent on any other day... but not today.
Because today, it had already been weakened by the curses of three Supreme carriers of the Nightmare Spell, burned by the soul flame of Changing Star of the Immortal Flame clan — which was especially devastating when it touched anything tainted by the Corruption — and poisoned by the Death Will of the Lord of Shadows. Nether's killing intent was the last drop. The Thieving Bird's fierce desire to live had already been compromised by stealing Sunny's murderous determination to kill it, and now, it was finally overwhelmed. He could sense it... the boundless ocean of the loathsome creature's Will receded, broken at last by a succession of deadly blows.
The loathsome Terror was not dead yet... But it was not immune to being killed anymore, either.
‘It's up to me now.'
Sunny himself was one blow away from being destroyed, so it was a fair game. Either the Thieving Bird would deal him one final wound, or he would manage to deliver it a fatal strike before being killed.
Below him, the burned and ravaged body of the loathsome Terror was plunging into the depths.
Sunny allowed himself a split second of stillness. He collected himself, steeled his mind...
And then dismissed his wings, falling toward the rippling water like an immense spear made from pure darkness.
His serpentine body pierced the Great River like a blade and continued to plummet through the mass of water, breaching the distance separating him from the sinking Thieving Bird in an instant.
He reached it in the blink of an eye and moved nimbly, evading the harrowing talons of the loathsome Terror to coil himself around its battered body.
It was fitting, really, that he would finish this battle in the form of the Onyx Serpent — the form he had inherited from Daeron of the Twilight Sea.
Sunny coiled himself around the Thieving Bird and constricted his coils, immobilizing it. Strangling it.
Pulling it into the dark, crushing depths of the Great River.
The Thieving Bird struggled, but by now, its Will to break free was not strong enough to shatter his Will to destroy it. Sunny held tight, using whatever strength he had left to crush his enemy.
His fangs sank into the torn neck of the Thieving Bird, straining to break it.
He willed its death into existence...
Then, one final fissure swallowed them, pulling them apart.
Sunny rolled on something hard and assumed his human form, rising shakily to his feet.
This time, they landed on something solid. He smiled darkly behind Weaver's Mask, realizing where they were... even if he did not know when they were.
It was the heart of the Stone Titan — the outer shell of the Estuary, floating silently in the endless darkness. The battle was going to end where it had started, just like the Great River that flowed endlessly into itself. The Vile Thieving Bird was lying on the dark stone a small distance away, towering above it like a hill of charred feathers.
A lake of black blood was slowly spreading outward from its motionless form... but it was still alive. Sunny could sense the profane flame of its accursed life burning, even if it had become feeble.
"Ah... you look great, thief..."
Sunny looked terrible, as well.
The Jade Mantle was all but destroyed, and blood was seeping slowly from countless wounds on his mangled body. Some of those wounds were terrible enough to reveal white bone, and some of his bones were broken in turn.
He looked like a corpse... and an unfortunate corpse, at that, one that had either experienced a disastrous death or was viciously mutilated after succumbing to it.
But Sunny was alive too.
And at the moment — finally — he was a little bit more alive than the Vile Thieving Bird.
So, manifesting a dark blade out of shadows, he swayed and took an unsteady step forward.
His voice was quiet and frail:


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