Ivan swung his blade wildly, blood spinning in crimson arcs.
> "S-slinky little rat…" he hissed through gritted teeth, recoiling as another blade sliced through the air, grazing his side. "Vermin… how—how do you move like—"
He raised his weapon, spinning blades of blood into the air, but the corridor offered no refuge. Shadows shifted—alive, deliberate—and before he could react, Elliana's daggers struck.
A clean slice through his right arm sent it spinning across the stone floor. Pain flared. Reflexes screamed. The limb began regrowing almost immediately, but the momentary delay broke his rhythm.
He barely regained balance before another strike took his left leg at mid-thigh, sending him crashing down. Regeneration followed again—slower this time—enough to make him stumble as he rose.
His left hand surged with mana, blood beginning to coil into a blade—but then—
A clean strike severed it at the wrist. Black blood hissed where it struck the cold stone, steam curling into the shadows. He tried to pull back, but regeneration overtook him—new flesh forming, the dull ache pulsing through bone and sinew.
He stood tall once more, limbs restored, crimson eyes burning in the darkness that surrounded him. His gaze sharpened—body twisting in an instant—as his hand speared through Elliana's form just as she moved to strike from the side.
But his fingers met no flesh. Her body dissolved like smoke around his arm, fading into shadow.
> "How annoying…" he spat, voice raw. "Keep hiding, insect. I'll—"
He never finished. A strike took his arm at the elbow. Another carved through his torso—blood spurting, tendons snapping. Regeneration followed, slow but relentless, leaving him ragged and furious, desperate to land a blow he could see.
Every swing met empty air. Every attempt to anticipate her movement failed. She was everywhere and nowhere—shadows bending, footsteps silent, attacks precise.
He struck again. And again. Each blow met only the phantom echo of her presence—a ripple of cold that left him staggering.
She moved like water—flowing through the cracks of the corridor, vanishing and reappearing at will. Daggers of shadow and steel materialized around him, slicing through his guard, driving him back toward the cold stone wall. Each strike was surgical and unpredictable—the kind that tore at nerves as much as flesh.
Ivan's eyes burned crimson. He roared, mana surging, summoning blades of blood and power that spiraled around him. The corridor shook beneath his fury. The walls bled shadow in answer to Elliana's counter.
She moved through his chaos in perfect rhythm—a predator dancing just beyond reach—while the black mist curled along the walls like smoke from an eternal flame.
A hiss of frustration escaped him.
> "Enough!"
He spat the word like venom, summoning a towering blade—its edge glowing red with his lifeblood—intent on ending it with sheer force.
Elliana's voice came from every shadow at once, slicing through his concentration like a whisper of fate.
> "You underestimate me. Again."
Before he could swing, the darkness erupted. It wasn't defensive anymore—it was alive. Shadows struck, coiled, wrapped, constricted. His massive blade met nothing but void. Shards of stone and droplets of blood sprayed as the corridor warped beneath the force of his failed attack.
He staggered—fury and fear colliding in a spiral of chaos. No regeneration, no blood magic, no weapon could give him the certainty he craved.
Elliana had rewritten the rules of the battlefield. And he was learning, too late, that in her domain—she was the law.
---
Aldric and Lyriana stood side by side, bodies tense, hands wrapped tightly around Elenya and Lucifer. The children were quiet, trusting, but their small forms seemed impossibly fragile under the weight of the moment.
Before them stretched only darkness—an absolute, impenetrable black. No light, no shapes, no hints of movement. It pressed against their vision like a physical force, cold and endless.
They strained their eyes, searching for even a flicker of what lay beyond, but the void offered nothing. The air was heavy, thick with the residue of mana, and every instinct in their bodies screamed that something monumental was unfolding out of sight.
> "I… I can't see anything," Lyriana whispered, her voice small against the silence. Her fingers tightened around Lucifer, casting a furtive glance at Aldric. "It's just—dark. Nothing. I can't even—"
Aldric's jaw tightened. He adjusted Elenya in his arms, holding her closer as if his presence could shield her from the unseen.
> "Neither can I," he said, voice low, steady. "But it doesn't mean it isn't happening."
The darkness didn't move—or maybe it moved too perfectly, too completely. There was no sound, no heat, no shimmer of mana to guide them. Only the oppressive void, swallowing everything beyond their sight.
And yet, Aldric and Lyriana felt it. A pulse—subtle, almost imperceptible—like the world itself was holding its breath.
Lyriana's hands shook slightly as she held Lucifer, but she said nothing. The emptiness stretched before them like a living thing, swallowing every sound, every breath.
> "We can't see anything… we don't even know what's happening," Lyriana finally said, voice tight. "It's… nothing."
Aldric's jaw tightened, gaze sharp, the words tasting bitter.
> "Nothing doesn't mean that bastard isn't still there," he muttered, more to the darkness than to her. "Not being able to see anything doesn't mean we can do a damn thing."
His jaw tightened. He shifted Elenya in his arms, staring down at her small, pale face. His eyes narrowed, heavy with a mix of fear and anger.
> "What the hell are we supposed to do with them?" he muttered under his breath, almost to himself, glancing toward Lyriana. His grip tightened, knuckles whitening.
He looked down at Elenya again, her tiny fists curling, oblivious to the danger surrounding them. Aldric's eyes flicked to Lyriana, desperation creeping into his expression.
> "What do we do with them?" he repeated, voice low, almost a growl. "How do we—how do we keep them safe when we can't even see what's going on?"