The cavern roared with the clash of steel and the shouts of the damned as Kade Shen charged Vane’s altar, the crude staff a blur in his hands, the orb’s hum a war cry in his chest. Lila Mei flanked him, her stick flashing despite the blood streaking her arm, her cracked rib forgotten in the heat of the fight. The stronghold’s heart pulsed alive—braziers spitting flame, Red Talon swarming, the ritual’s red runes glowing beneath Vane’s boots like a wound in the earth. The saber gleamed on the altar, Starfall steel calling to Kade, its hilt etched with his father’s legacy—ten feet away, a lifetime of blood between.

Vane loomed, a black-clad titan, his scarred face twisting into a grin as he clutched the dark orb—its glow warped, sickly, a shadow of the one in Kade’s pack. “Come to dance, pup?” he bellowed, voice cutting through the din, drawing a jagged blade from his hip. “Jian begged too—didn’t save him.”

Kade’s rage ignited, staff swinging—two guards lunged from the shadows, rifles raised, and he flowed, Wei’s lessons alive in his sinew. The staff cracked one’s wrist, the rifle clattering, then spun low, shattering the other’s knee. Lila darted past, stick slamming a third guard’s throat, dropping him choking—her dance precise, relentless, a storm in her own right.

The cavern trembled—shouts echoed from the tunnels, the outcasts’ assault hitting the gate. Arrows whizzed, unseen but deadly, and a cannon boomed outside, its roar shaking dust from the ceiling. The wiry woman’s bow, the axeman’s fury—five souls tearing at Vane’s flank, chaos blooming as planned. Red Talon faltered, some peeling off to the gate, rifles barking, giving Kade and Lila a breath to press.

“Keep moving!” Lila yelled, ducking a machete swing, her stick cracking the attacker’s jaw. Blood sprayed, and she rolled, coming up beside Kade as they closed on the altar—five feet now, Vane’s grin widening.

“Fools,” he snarled, raising the dark orb. The runes flared, a pulse of heat washing over them, and shadows bled from the stone—tendrils, writhing, lashing like whips. One caught Kade’s staff, yanking it free, splintering it to dust. He dove, bare-handed, as another snared Lila’s leg, slamming her down. She grunted, stick lost, clawing the dirt as the shadow tightened.

Kade rolled to his feet, fists up—weaponless, but the orb in his pack pulsed brighter, a counterbeat to Vane’s corruption. He charged, dodging a tendril, and tackled a guard blocking the altar—fist to gut, elbow to temple, the man crumpling. The saber was there—three feet—when Vane swung his blade, a vicious arc aimed at Kade’s neck.

He dropped, the steel whistling overhead, and kicked up, catching Vane’s knee. The warlord staggered, growling, and Kade lunged—fingers brushing the saber’s hilt—before a shadow whip lashed his chest, hurling him back. Pain flared, whip-marks reopened, and he hit the dirt, gasping, the altar just out of reach.

Lila broke free, snapping the tendril with a scavenged knife, and surged to his side, dragging him up. “Saber!” she rasped, shoving him forward as Vane recovered, the dark orb pulsing faster—ritual nearing its peak, the air thick with a wrongness that clawed at Kade’s skull.

He dove again, hand closing on the hilt—Starfall steel, warm, alive—and yanked it free, rolling as Vane’s blade slammed the altar, cracking stone. Kade swung, saber meeting Vane’s jagged edge—steel screamed, sparks flew, and the cavern shook, the outcasts’ fight bleeding closer, shouts and gunfire echoing.

“Jian’s toy,” Vane sneered, pressing hard, his strength a wall. “Won’t save you.”

Kade flowed—Wei’s dance, Jian’s grace—parrying low, slashing high, the saber a silver blur. Vane blocked, brutal but slow, and Kade spun, cutting his arm—blood welled, dark and thick, staining the runes. The shadows faltered, the orb’s pulse stuttering, and Lila seized the gap—knife flashing, slicing a guard’s throat, then hurling it at Vane. It sank into his shoulder, a shallow bite, but enough to stagger him.

“Gate’s breached!” a Red Talon roared, stumbling in, coat singed. “They’re inside!”

The outcasts—five turned feral—stormed the cavern’s edge: the wiry woman loosing arrows, the axeman cleaving a path, the others slashing wild. Losses mounted—two fell, knives red, but they carved chaos, splitting Vane’s ranks. Kade pressed, saber arcing—Vane parried, grunting, the dark orb slipping in his grip.

“Kade!” Lila yelled, dodging a rifle butt, her stick reclaimed and cracking skulls. “Orb—now!”

He lunged, feinting high, then low—saber slicing Vane’s thigh, blood pooling—and grabbed the dark orb as it fell, its heat searing his palm. The runes dimmed, shadows recoiling, and Kade stumbled back, clutching both orbs—his pure, Vane’s twisted—a duel pulse that rattled his bones.

Vane roared, blade swinging wild—Kade ducked, the saber slashing his coat—and Lila tackled a guard, buying him space. The outcasts closed, three left standing, their fury a tide, but Red Talon rallied, rifles barking, pinning them near the tunnels. Kade gripped the orbs, their hums clashing—Starfall’s call, Vane’s corruption—and saw the altar’s edge: a war machine, a hulking cannon looted from some town, loaded and primed.

He ran, Vane’s blade grazing his back, and swung the saber—leaping, flowing, steel biting iron. The cannon’s barrel split, a jagged tear, and he kicked it hard, toppling it into a brazier. Flames caught, powder sparked, and the cavern erupted—a deafening blast, stone shattering, Red Talon scattering as fire bloomed.

Kade hit the dirt, orbs clutched, Lila diving beside him—Vane’s roar cut short, swallowed by smoke. The ritual died, runes fading, but the fight raged—Red Talon regrouping, the outcasts pinned, and Vane’s shadow looming through the haze, blade raised, unbroken.

“Move!” Kade yelled, scrambling up, saber and orbs in hand, Lila at his flank—the fortress stormed, but not won.