The air bends before he even moves. A towering figure stands across the battlefield, twin blades resting at his sides, their edges humming with restrained violence. The ground beneath his feet trembles… not from impact, but from anticipation. His heln tilts slightly towards the looming tarnished one.

"My loyal blade. And champion of the festival.." A voice echoed through the area, Miquella the kind continued.

"...Both your deeds will ever be praised in song..."

The red lion , the Starscourge General stood stoic, immovable.

"Now, the vow will be honoured, and my Lord brother's soul will return." Miquella declared as his voice echoed.

"....So that he may be my consort.."

A low, animalistic growl escapes him. Then—both curved great swords shook the ground, due to its gravitational might, then lifted to the air, Radahn held the hilts, the blades rasp and began to spark as Radahn's glowing eye could be seen behind his weapons then spread his arms wide, both weapons now raised, as Radahn tilted his head down, his silhouette overshadowed by the light of the gate.