Rolliphs'

Raged

As the battle raged on, the air thrummed with the clash of steel and the tortured bellows of the monstrous serpent. Jack, his vision narrowed with focus, observed the creature's relentless attacks. It was a dance of fury, a whirlwind of fangs and thrashing tail. Yet, amidst the chaos, Jack began to discern a rhythm.

He noticed a flicker in the serpent's reptilian eyes, a split second of vulnerability after each lunging strike. It was a window, brief but crucial. A slow smile, tinged with both desperation and cunning, crept across Jack's face. He knew what he had to do.

With a calculated stumble, Jack feigned weakness. He let out a grunt, as if struck, dropping his guard for a fleeting moment. The serpent seized the perceived opportunity, its colossal head whipping forward with a hiss that sent a shiver down Jack's spine. The monstrous maw gaped wide, revealing a cavern of razor-sharp teeth.

But Jack was ready. In a heartbeat faster than the serpent's strike, he twisted. The air whooshed past his ear as the gnashing teeth snapped shut where his head had been a moment before. Adrenaline surged through him, a potent cocktail of fear and exhilaration.

Capitalizing on the serpent's momentum, Jack lunged forward. His muscles screamed in protest, but he ignored them, pouring every ounce of his remaining strength into the swing of his sword. The blade, imbued with a faint magical glow, carved a fiery arc through the air. It met its mark with a sickening crunch, connecting with the serpent's exposed side where scales gave way to softer flesh.

A deafening roar of pain erupted from the creature. Its body, the size of a siege tower, convulsed as it writhed. Scales, shimmering like obsidian shards, flew through the air as the serpent recoiled, its massive form leaving a furrow in the earth. The stench of burnt flesh filled the air, a testament to the magical properties of Jack's weapon.

This wasn't just a wound; it was a turning point. Emboldened by his success, a surge of renewed vigor coursed through Jack's veins. He pressed the attack, a flurry of precise strikes aimed at exploiting the serpent's growing weakness. Each blow chipped away at the creature's defenses, leaving trails of glistening ichor in its wake.

Anna and Iris, sensing the shift in momentum, redoubled their efforts. Anna, a whirlwind of silver daggers, danced around the serpent's cumbersome frame, drawing its attention and creating openings for Jack. Iris, her eyes blazing with emerald fire, unleashed bolts of potent magic that singed the serpent's scales and disrupted its attacks.

The battle continued for an age. Time seemed to warp and stretch, each minute an eternity punctuated by the clang of steel and the roars of the dying beast. Sweat dripped from Jack's brow, stinging his eyes. His muscles burned like fire, threatening to give way with each exertion. But he fought on, fueled by a desperate determination and the unwavering support of his companions.

Both Jack and the serpent were battered beyond recognition. Blood, human and reptilian, stained the ground crimson. Yet, neither yielded. Each blow they exchanged echoed with a primal determination, a fight for survival etched onto the battlefield in blood and fury.

Finally, when Jack thought he could push himself no further, he saw it. An opening, fleeting but undeniable. The serpent, its movements sluggish with pain, lunged for Anna in a desperate attempt to break free. It was a mistake. With a roar that tore through the din of battle, Jack surged forward.

He drew upon every last reserve of strength, channeling it into his legs as he launched himself towards the serpent's head. He was a blur of motion, a single-minded force hurtling through the air. His sword, held aloft with trembling arms, shimmered with an otherworldly light.

The world seemed to slow. Jack saw the venom-dripping fangs, the reptilian eyes filled with a mixture of hatred and fear. Then, with a deafening clang, his blade met its mark. It pierced through the serpent's remaining eye, plunging deep into its skull.

A final, earth-shattering screech erupted from the colossal beast. Its body, finally devoid of life, crashed to the ground with a tremor that shook the very foundations of the battlefield. Silence, thick and heavy, descended upon the scene. Allies and enemies alike stared in stunned awe at the fallen serpent and the battered figure standing triumphantly before it.

Jack rose to his feet, his body a symphony of aches and pains. Yet, a spark of defiance still burned in his eyes. He had won this battle, but the war was far from over. He turned his gaze towards the figure of Maot, who stood on a distant rise, his face a mask of impassive rage. The true fight.