Kazaf: The upside down

A tempest of dark energy loomed over the battlefield as Kazaf and his allies stood before the fortress of Jalwa. The massive gates were guarded by scores of enforcers, their black robes billowing in the wind, their weapons gleaming with sinister power.

Kazaf's grip on his sword tightened.

This was it. The battle that would decide everything.

His father was inside that fortress.

And he would not leave without him.

But before they could take a step further, a deep voice echoed through the night.

"You will go no further."

A figure leaped from the walls, landing with a crash in front of them. The ground splintered beneath his feet.

Kazaf's eyes locked onto the newcomer—a warrior clad in black armor, his spear crackling with dark flames. His presence alone radiated danger.

"I am Zahir, the Blood Spear of Jalwa." His crimson eyes narrowed. "And I will be your end."

Kazaf met his gaze, unflinching. "You can try."

Then Zahir lunged.

---

The Clash of Titans

The first strike came with blinding speed.

Kazaf barely had time to react as the black spear shot toward him like a meteor. He sidestepped, but Zahir was faster than he had expected.

A second strike followed immediately. Kazaf barely managed to raise his sword, blocking just in time. The impact sent shockwaves through his arm, the sheer force behind it pushing him several feet backward.

But Kazaf wasn't done.

He pushed off the ground, surging forward, his blade glowing with golden energy. He slashed at Zahir's side, but the warrior twisted, dodging with unnatural grace.

"You're fast," Zahir admitted. "But not fast enough."

In an instant, he vanished—then reappeared behind Kazaf.

Kazaf's instincts screamed at him. He spun just in time to meet a deadly downward strike, his sword clashing against the flaming spear. Sparks erupted between them.

The fight had truly begun.

---

Breaking Through the Gates

While Kazaf was locked in battle with Zahir, the rest of the group faced Jalwa's enforcers.

Dulla led the charge, his massive spear cleaving through enemy lines. With every strike, cultivators were sent flying, unable to match his sheer strength.

Rahim moved like a shadow, his twin blades slicing through enemies with surgical precision. He was a blur, striking from angles his opponents never saw coming.

Samir unleashed waves of fire, the flames engulfing enemies and forcing them to retreat.

Harun, with his brute force, cleaved through Jalwa's men with his axe, sending bodies sprawling across the battlefield.

And Asma—her golden energy radiating around her—moved gracefully yet powerfully, her attacks precise and devastating. Her shields blocked incoming strikes, while her counterattacks struck down enemies with lethal accuracy.

But no matter how many they defeated, more kept coming.

Dulla growled. "They just won't stop!"

Samir panted. "We don't have time for this! We need to get inside!"

Rahim nodded. "Then we break through."

Harun grinned. "Leave that to me."

He charged at the gates, his body radiating spiritual energy. Raising his axe, he swung with all his might.

BOOM!

The iron doors shuddered but held.

Harun narrowed his eyes. Again.

BOOM! BOOM!

With a final, thunderous strike, the gates gave way, crashing open.

A path to the fortress was now open.

But standing in their way—was an army.

---

Kazaf vs. Zahir – The Final Exchange

Kazaf could hear the destruction behind him, but he couldn't afford to look.

Zahir had become more aggressive, his spear moving like a storm. Every attack came with blazing dark flames, forcing Kazaf to dodge with everything he had.

"You're holding up well," Zahir sneered. "But let's see how you handle this."

He twirled his spear, and suddenly—the ground erupted.

A surge of black flames exploded from beneath Kazaf, engulfing him.

For a moment, everything was fire.

Then—a golden flash.

Kazaf burst from the flames, his sword glowing like the sun.

Before Zahir could react, Kazaf vanished, appearing right in front of him.

And then—he struck.

Zahir's eyes widened as Kazaf's sword pierced through his armor, cutting deep.

Blood sprayed across the battlefield.

Zahir stumbled backward, gripping his wound. His body trembled. "Damn you…"

Kazaf exhaled, his body aching from the burns and the relentless fight.

But he had won.

Zahir fell to one knee, coughing up blood. He looked up at Kazaf, a bitter smile on his lips. "You're strong. Stronger than I thought…"

Then, his body collapsed.

Kazaf didn't waste another second.

He turned toward the fortress—toward Jalwa.

---

The Confrontation

Inside the fortress, the air was thick with dark energy.

Kazaf and his group walked through the ruined gates, their weapons ready.

Then—footsteps.

A figure emerged from the shadows, his red eyes glowing like fire.

Jalwa.

He was tall and imposing, his presence alone sending chills down their spines. He wore a long black robe, intricate patterns of dark energy swirling across its surface.

His lips curled into a slow, menacing smile.

"So… you finally made it," Jalwa said smoothly.

Kazaf's grip on his sword tightened. "Where is my father?"

Jalwa chuckled. "Oh, he's close. Closer than you think."

With a snap of his fingers, the walls of the fortress shifted, revealing a massive chamber beyond.

And at the center—a prison cell.

Kazaf's breath caught in his throat.

Inside the cell, chained and beaten, was his father.

His eyes—though weak—met Kazaf's.

"Kazaf…" his father whispered.

Rage ignited inside Kazaf.

Jalwa smirked. "If you want him…" He spread his arms, dark energy swirling around him.

"Then come and get him."

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