The look Caden gave Teric after he had spoken was the somatic equivalent of a ninety page essay of ways to tell someone to not tempt fate, most of which would roughly translate as an unspoken but strongly conveyed shut the hell up! The Wizard actually shuddered a little bit as he pointedly did not say any of this, mostly from anger but also from sheer justifiable eccentricity. After all, Caden was one of those rare people who had enough experience to know that when you tempt fate, or the gods governing it, somebody listens.
Teric stared at him with a shrug, took one last look to the molten silver below and left it at that. There was the din of a bona fide firefight from the exit that Rayse had taken, and work obviously still remained. The mercenary didn't sheathe his weapons and didn't let down his guard.
In all likelihood, this experienced paranoia was what allowed Teric to get out of the way when a torrent of molten silver shot towards the ceiling as if it were merely a foreshock of the vengeful scream that followed it. The room shook so violently that every single wall cracked, and the midnight ceiling burned and crumbled to bare stone where the molten silver hit it. For a few seconds after that, there was nothing but a rumble; intense but otherwise quiet.
And then a hand the size of an ordinary man's chest lunged up out of that molten metal, crushed onto the nearest ledge where the Etherspite Guardian had fallen, and gouged a set of trenches into the floor as its owner struggle for purchase. The other hand followed suit. Metal slicked and dripped off after a few seconds, each square inch exposed to reveal skin that was still icy blue and very nearly unblemished, but for a few oily black cracks here and there. Seconds ticked by as Teric and Caden both ran through a few evolutionary forests' worth of plans, contingencies for when the plans failed, escape plans for when the contingencies failed, and relatively painless ways to commit suicide when the escape plans didn't pan out. Neither one actually tried to escape, which may or may not have been a credit to their characters given the only exits available: The Guardian's hands held tight near the first entrance, the door to the room Rayse had vanished into was smouldering from gods only knew what, and the actual exit presumably lead right to Denebriel herself.
"I should've kept my mouth shut," Teric admitted after one of the hands lead to a forearm and elbow getting purchase on that ledge.
"Yes," said Caden, as the no longer bearded Guardian's head plunged up into view. "You should have."
The thing positively roared this time, its Voice billowing the two adventurers' hair and clothes and forcing their knees to shake from the sheer pressure of it. Its lips were cracked, its eyes had turned glossy and black, and its teeth were all chipped and ruined like the edges of a conqueror's sword; fully functional and all the more barbaric for it. The Guardian gave one last heave with its other hand and pushed itself back up onto the platform, covered in leftover blobs of silver and otherwise completely nude; which was how Teric and Caden learned that it was without a true gender, for which they probably should have been grateful.
"ENOUGH!" it roared, stomping once and thrusting out one arm. At once, its sword returned to grip, tumbling end over end until it met a jarring stop within the cracked giant's hand. That impact alone was loud enough to register like a dozen hammers striking one gong, and jarred loose yet more silver from the creature's body. "Let it be done!"
"As death threats go, that one was lacking in originality," Caden noted in the kind of detached calm that true terror brings.
"Don't s'pose you've got any aces up your sleeve?" Teric asked.
"Keep him distracted for a few seconds."
The mercenary didn't waste time asking questions after that. The Guardian took one huge step towards them and cracked the entire floor doing it. Teric charged forward, practically dragging his saber behind him, and Caden sidestepped while putting away his wand in lieu of the old conscript's sword that had seen him through so much.
"Old dog," the Guardian spat, bursting into a run of its own. "Wretched old mongrel!" It lead with one foot sliding sideways to a stop, sword thrusting, and Teric dodged it the same way he would've dodged a battering ram. He hit the floor rolling from one shoulder to the other, from the other shoulder to the adjoining elbow, from elbow to hip to knee and finally back up to his other foot with a dancer's twist that saw him narrowly avoid a kick that sent up waves of dust and debris in its wake.
"Do you really think the same tricks will work twice?" asked the giant, and Teric was keenly aware that its footing was surer now, and the terrain was no longer prejudiced in his favor. Frenzied with pain and humiliation, unhindered by the subtle manipulations of Wizardry, the Etherspite went from being almost comically awkward and avoidably slow to brutally precise and blindingly quick. Teric didn't even have time for a wisecrack as he tried to flank the monster and found himself dodging a blind kick from it. He ducked under the back of its sword-hand and leapt into a tumble that cleared him of its grasping fingers. The mercenary sprang to his feet as the Guardian took its great sword in both hands and stomped forward once -- hard enough that the floor beneath Teric's feet actually shifted against him for a change.
"Now is the hour of your death, mongrel!"
The Guardian swung.
Three tons of solid stone went flying on impact, scattering into the adjacent wall enough force to leave a tapestry of craters from floor level to the base of the ceiling, and taking out part of that as well. Further dust swept up in a tidal wave-like cloud, rolling hard into the wall, the ceiling, and even that molten silver pool below.
The old warrior's buckler shield rang across the floor to Caden's feet, clattering thrice and then stopping.
The Guardian stood still for but a moment, surveying its handiwork with the grim satisfaction of inhuman age and hatred, until at last it noticed two things wrong with the scene before it: There wasn't so much as a drop of blood on the ground and the tip of its sword felt a bit too heavy for comfort. The Guardian turned a stunned eye to look-
"No," Teric said to it from where he crouched, both hands clasped to his saber's hilt, the blade fixed neatly against the former leading edge of the Guardian's weapon. "It's not."
"DA-"
There was a crack like an Alerian rifle firing. Teric was gone one moment, tumbling shoulder-first to the Guardian's other side the next, his saber leading the way in a somersault that would've done any gymnast proud. As he passed, the Guardian's face and a part of its shoulder both erupted with roughly patterned cuts that, had they connected in the same spot, would've formed a crude X. The misshapen strike was still enough to tear off the thing's nose and rob it of its upper lip and a few teeth, sundering the shoulder clear to something that looked passably similar to a glass bone. When the Guardian screamed this time, it was positively deafening.
Teric hit the ground skidding, rolled a few times and barely stopped himself short of going over the edge to the silvery grave boiling below. He shot a look towards the mage now, expecting some sort of miracle for his efforts.
The Sorcerer Blueraven did not disappoint him.
Caden Screamed, and magic quite literally erupted from him as he thrust that plain conscript sword forward; pushing it along with the handle of his Arcanist's Rod. In front of him solidified a blade of raw force, its outline marked in transparent blue feathers and a million tiny dancing stars. As the blade's tip pushed forward, it grew longer and slightly wider, until finally a guard appeared behind it and then a fully formed hilt, clasped in a fully formed hand, leading to an intricately detailed pommel. Between this sword and the Guardian's own body, there was as much of a size difference as the one that existed between the Guardian's blade and either Teric or Caden put together.
Already wounded and distracted, the Guardian didn't stand a chance of dodging the spell or coming up with a way to counter it. Caden's Sorcerous construct plowed into the thing's midsection and drove it clear off its feet, pinning it to a wall before the tip ever managed to pierce the Guardian's cracked, icy hide.
"YOU!" the Guardian howled in a rage, beating at the ghostly weapon to no effect. More cracks spread out from the point of impact as it struggled. "YOU WIELD THE POWER FORGOTTEN! A SORCERER LIKE-"
The blade pierced the giant's body at last.
The Guardian actually vomited oily black all over itself, matching the viscous fluid pouring out around the conjured sword as Caden gave another push and sank the weapon in to its hilt.
"Not even close," Blueraven Said, his Voice causing a shudder to go through every loose speck of dust, puff of smoke or glob of melted silver in the room.
Twist.
The Guardian's body split in half, midsection falling into the metal below with a limp splash. Its wounded shoulder broke next, and the silent upper half fell away as the blade faded out of existence. Whatever its age, endurance, determined resolve and the powers animating it; the Guardian did not come back for another round.
Caden waited for a few seconds before he lost composure, and by then he was wheezing puffs of blue aether, the first breaths of which turned to feathers before dissipating as they neared the ground. He spent a few seconds more sheathing his sword and then leaning on his rod, not exhausted or even close to collapse, but visibly winded all the same. It was like any athlete being given an unexpected break after a few seconds of wicked exertion, and it showed.
Teric watched this whole display rather mutely, taking his time to recollect his senses before he reacquired his buckler. He and Caden stared at the door to the room where Rayse, presumably, was still settling his own affairs. There was a silent, but mutual, agreement to honor their fellow's wishes and press forward without him. As they turned towards the heavy gate leading to the last stretch of their journey, Teric finally, carefully asked, "Could you have done that at any time?"
"Yes," Caden answered, truthfully.
"Why didn't you?"
"I was saving it," said the Sorcerer. "Trying to keep that power undetectable by any of Denebriel's security measures. Hopefully she didn't hear that big idiot screaming, or pick up on the spike of power involved."
Teric was silent as Caden went to work dismantling this next gate. He was actually scribbling plain runes on it this time, using a worn down pencil from Gods only knew where. Magic or alchemy must've been why the letters and sigils, runes and whatever else he sketched became thicker, more visible. The Wizard completed his Work and took a few steps back, prompting Teric to do the same.
"Could you have done that...that...flash-step-swing-whatever thing sooner?" Caden asked.
"Maybe," spoke the warrior.
"You must've been one hell of a fighter in your younger days," Caden said with a tone of near-reverence.
Teric smirked. "Probably."
A few seconds more spent in silence. Caden put away the pencil and again took out both Wand and Rod, giving each one a twirl. Teric spat off to the side and both men breathed deep.
"It's been an honor," one or the other or both said.
Blueraven pointed his wand, triggered the spell, and the door collapsed with as little drama as possible. One last hallway greeted them, plainly let and virtually undecorated, leading to a simple pair of doors that would've gone well on a small town chapel. They already hung slightly ajar, and bright white light issued from beyond with neither shadow nor silhouette nor vaguest detail to show for it.
"We've been expected," Caden noted. "Although I can't say I'm surprised."
"True. It'd still be a shame to disappoint her," Teric replied, shouldering ahead and leading the way.