At the edge of the Black Cliffs, under a thunder-split sky, Alp met her.
The Witch, once a tribal healer, cursed by greed and magic, stood with her eyes like embers. Lightning coiled around her fingers.
"You think a child can stop me?"
Alp raised the sword. It blazed with light. Their powers clashed in the storm — fire against wind, darkness against truth.
As he fell to one knee, the spirits of the old warriors rose behind him, chanting in ancient tongue. Kılıçgölü burst with a final flame, piercing her heart.
She screamed — a sound that cracked the sky — then fell silent.
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