The demon moved first.
A blur of smoke and muscle, it swung its massive blade sideways, faster than anything that size should be able to.
The knight stepped forward, not back.
Their blades collided and a sound like thunder, steel shrieking against steel. The impact shook the stone beneath them.
Dust rose.
Black blood from the ground was flung into the air.
But the knight held firm.
The demon sneered.
"You still think you're winning?" it hissed, circling.
"You kill and kill, but there's no end. You're not a savior. You're a wall, cracked, forgotten, waiting to fall."
The knight didn't answer.
He swung his holy sword.
A clean cut. Fast. Precise. It cut across the demon's shoulder, a shallow wound but enough to make it stumble.
The demon roared,
"Still sharp" it muttered. "Still clinging to that holy silence like it means something."
"You know what I think?"
It swung down again in a brutal like manner.
The knight blocked it. His knees bent. The stone cracked beneath him.
The demon leaned in, close.
"I think you're angry. I think you wonder, every time you draw that blade, why He hasn't come back. Why no voice calls your name. Why has he not given you a new order."
Still the knight did not flinch.
He rose and raised his sword again, blood ran down his side.
And finally, he spoke,
"Because I do not need saving."
The demon paused.
Only for a second.
Then it smiled wider, so wide it does not fit in his face.
"Oh, now that's interesting" it growled.
They clashed again.
The demon lunged, its rusted sword carving the air with weight enough to crush stone.
The knight did not retreat, but head straight at it. His blade flashed once, cutting deep into the demon's side.
It hissed, staggered, but laughed.
"You bleed too,"it spat."You're not divine. Just another dying thing pretending to be eternal."
The knight stood still.
"I'm not eternal."
Then he raised his left hand.
The demon's grin faltered.
A faint hum vibrated through the battlefield. The blackened sky rippled.
Above them light bloomed. But not sunlight.
Swords.
Dozens.
Hundreds.
Thousands.
Suspended in the air, each one gleaming with holy fire, etched with runes older than speech. They circled above like a divine storm.
The demon's eyes widened.
"What is this?"it growled. "Tricks? That's not like you."
Still, the knight did not answer.
He only gave a silent command.
And the swords fell.
One after another it drop, rained like it was never before but instead of water, its swords.
The demon raised its arms to block,
but the swords tore through them.
Blades pierced its limbs. Shattered its defenses. Forced it back step by step.
Each sword struck like a hammer of judgment.
"STOP THIS!" it roared, voice cracking under the weight of steel and pain.
"YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT YOU'RE PROTECTING!"
The knight moved with the falling blades weaving through the storm.
He closed the distance.
" I don't have to."
And with a single, upward slash he launched the demon off its feet, slamming it into the gate's outer wall.
Silence followed.
Swords still hovered above.
The demon coughed, bleeding smoke.
"They made you into a weapon,"it spat weakly.
"A blade with no purpose but to cut."
The knight stepped closer.
Sword pointed downward.
Eyes unwavering.
And he spoke,
"That is enough."
The demon's body slammed into the wall, twitching, bleeding smoke and fire.
It laughed,
"You think this is over?"
Its skin split open as black flame erupted from its chest. Symbols carved into its bones glowed red, burning his life giving him power and rage.
The ground trembled. Dead demons twitched. The air screamed.
The demon rose once more larger now, more monstrous, a combination of smoke, claws all around its body and fury.
Its blade burned red hot in its hand.
"IF I FALL" it shouted, "THEN I WILL TAKE YOU WITH ME!"
It charged.
"IF YOU DIE, THE NEXT INVADER WILL DEVOUR THIS PLACE."
A final, furious rush.
The knight didn't move.
He didn't need to.
The swords in the sky, the remaining holy blades still waiting for orders responded.
They fell.
Like divine judgment.
Piercing the demon from every direction, they pinned it mid air, arms, chest, throat, each one landing.
It screamed,
all it can do was screamed.
Only one sword remained.
The one his holding.
He stepped forward.
And swing.
A single, clean slash tore through the demon's core.
Its voice cut off.
Its body unraveled not torn apart, but erased dissolved into ash and silence.
And it was over.
He landed, the final sword still in hand.
The field of battle was quiet once more. The corpses lay still. The gate still stood.
He stared into the dark horizon.
No cheers. No voices. No light from above.
Then he spoke for none to hear but the dead.
"I was not made to be saved."
"I was not made to be loved."
"I was made to stand."
"To guard. To destroy. To remain."
A pause.
His voice did not shake.
"That is who I am."