A series of thunderous noises echoed through the dark, narrow sewage tunnel the sounds of violent impacts where three lives fought desperately to survive.
The stench of rotting filth mixed with the sharp metallic smell of blood hung thick in the air, heavy enough to choke the lungs.
A powerful buzzing roar followed something striking against a force far stronger than steel.
The impact was beyond anything a normal human mind could comprehend.
Stefan stood firm.
His stance was perfectly set, every muscle tense, prepared to cast another divine ability the instant his barrier shattered.
Even with death looming over him, he refused to retreat. If this was where he would fall, then he would fall fighting.
His once-pristine face was now smeared with dirt, sweat, and filth.
The divine barrier before him weakened steadily.
Cracks spread across its surface, glowing faintly, like fragile ice melting under intense heat.
Then... A crack.
A sharp, explosive sound tore through the tunnel.
The barrier shattered completely, breaking apart like stained glass falling into an abyss.
In the same breath, Stefan acted.
"Divine Nictorn."
His voice was calm, unnervingly calm as he raised his left hand toward the Dark Battle Mage.
Even now, even under crushing pressure, his mind remained steady.
Light burst forth from Stefan's body like a miniature sun, far brighter than a lantern bright enough to blind anyone who dared look directly at it.
The radiance flowed into his raised hand like liquid light.
The beam pierced the fog.
The crimson eyes hidden within the shadow recoiled slightly.
For the first time, Stefan saw the enemy clearly.
A man, roughly his height stood before him.
His form was wrapped entirely in shadows and dense fog, as if darkness itself clung to his flesh.
They stared at each other.
Stefan felt it instantly.
The murderous intent.
Like a starving predator gazing to his wounded prey.
The figure chuckled softly.
"Is that all you can do?" The Dark Battle Mage said in a low, mocking voice.
Stefan froze only for a heartbeat.
The mage continued, amusement dripping from every word. "You couldn't even stir my dark magic circle defense. How pathetic… a defender of the Holy Empire, I thought you could give me a decent fight."
He laughed again.
Stefan's eyes widened, fear flashed across his face it was raw and undeniable.
This was the first time he had faced someone who completely outclassed him in power, skills, and experience.
They locked gazes for several long seconds.
Stefan shifted his stance again, switching to a defensive casting position. His feet adjusted subtly, ready to evade any attack.
Then... A sound behind him.
Something stirred.
Loid…? Stefan thought. Did he wake up?
He glanced back to it.
What he saw made his blood run cold.
The armored soldier was standing, but not as a man should be.
Loid's body moved unnaturally, wobbling as if boneless.
His posture was grotesque, his movements are wrong. In his right hand, he still gripped his long spear.
The thing that wore Loid's body began walking toward Stefan.
Slowly.
Then it raised the spear and swung downward with lethal intent.
Stefan dodged just in time, crashing into the sewage wall.
Green moss smeared across his robes, staining the once-elegant fabric with brown, yellow, and sickly green.
This isn't Loid… Stefan realized in horror. This isn't him anymore.
Dark magic radiated from the body.
"He's controlling the corpse," Stefan muttered, glancing back toward the Dark Mage. "Using it to distract me."
Now it made sense.
The enemy had lowered his guard earlier because he was confident that this is going to happen.
Confident this would end Stefan.
"…Interesting," Stefan whispered, steadying himself. "Then there's no reason to hold back anymore."
He felt for life essence, but there was none.
Loid was already dead.
The corpse lunged again, swinging its spear wildly.
Stefan evaded several strikes, but then...
Pain exploded through his body as the spear grazed him. Blood soaked into his white garments, the metallic scent intensifying it.
The corpse raised its spear once more and swung downward again.
Stefan grit his teeth and caught the weapon with his left hand. His thick gray glove absorbed the force as he locked it in place.
He closed the distance between them.
Raised his right hand toward the armored head.
"I'm sorry, Loid," Stefan whispered.
"Sicurum Light."
Before the divine spell could form.
The body convulsed violently.
Then...
A bearded man's face emerged from within Loid's body, as if two beings swapped places in an instant.
Stefan leaped back immediately, canceling the spell mid-cast.
The truth struck him.
This was the Dark Battle Mage.
The corpse peeled away like a hollow shell as the mage stepped free, clad in a long dark cloak. Only his crimson eyes and thick beard were visible beneath the hood.
"Ahh…" the mage groaned softly. "Isn't that fascinating, Seeker?"
Stefan pressed a hand against his wounded side, blood seeping through his gloves.
As I thought, he realized. Body-swapping.
He needed me to strike the corpse to switch places.
And to close the distance between me and him, Stefan thought for a moment.
He glanced back.
Loid's body lay motionless to the stone floor, his armor gone, clothing shredded, nothing left but a husk.
He cut off my escape, Stefan thought grimly. This tunnel only has one way in and out.
"I need to decide now," Stefan murmured as he slowly stepped back. "I could escape in the opposite direction of the sewage tunnel."
The mage tilted his head unnaturally, smiling.
"Why step away now?" he whispered. "Are you afraid… or simply out of divine energy?"
He laughed softly.
Stefan then turned and ran.
He splashed through the sewage, filth clinging to him as he passed Loid's body.
His movements were sluggish, one hand clutching his wound, blood dripping into the murky water.
He glanced back.
The Dark Mage followed at a leisurely pace, his boots barely disturbing the foul water beneath them.
A crooked smile rested on his lips, calm and confident like a hunter enjoying the final moments of a chase.
That smile sent a chill through Stefan's spine.
Without slowing, Stefan raised his hand and cast a divine barrier behind him.
A wall of translucent light bloomed across the tunnel, stretching from stone to stone, humming faintly with holy resonance.
He didn't stop.
Another incantation escaped his lips, strained but precise.
A second barrier formed beyond the first, overlapping it, thicker, brighter, and reinforced with what little divine energy he had left.
Then... The Dark Battle Mage lifted his one arm.
Shadow gathered to it, liquefying and condensing into a spear shaped entirely from darkness.
The air trembled as the weapon formed, its surface rippling like living ink.
One effortless motion.
The spear launched forward.
It crashed.
The first barrier shattered instantly, bursting apart like brittle glass.
The spear didn't slow, and penetrate the other barrier.
It shattered.
Light exploded everywhere like a snow falling above, fragments dissolving into nothingness.
The tunnel fell silent again.
Stefan didn't look back.
He ran.
His lungs burned violently, each breath ragged and shallow.
His legs screamed in fatigue as sewage water splashed against his knees, slowing every step.
Pain throbbed from his wound, blood soaking deeper into his clothes, warmth spreading with every heartbeat of him.
I need to move forward, he commanded himself.
His heart pounded so loud it drowned his thoughts.
Behind him, the footsteps remained unhurriedly.
Stefan could feel it the oppressive presence creeping closer, the dark magic pressing against his senses like a suffocating weight.
It clung to the walls, the ceiling, even the air itself, twisting the tunnel into something hostile and alive.
He's not rushing, Stefan realized in horror. He doesn't need to.
The mage was certain.
Certain Stefan would break.
Certain there was nowhere left to run.
Stefan stumbled but caught himself against the wall, fingers slipping on wet moss.
His vision blurred for a moment, exhaustion crashing over him like a massive wave.
If I slow down, I'm gonna die.
He forced his legs to move again, every step heavier than the last.
The sound of soft laughter echoed behind him, it was low, and amused, and terrifyingly close.
Stefan knew then.
He was being hunted.
By a merciless mage who had already decided the outcome of the battle.
-----
The breeze air grew colder, brushing sharply against Nathaniel and the soldier beside him.
Nathaniel sighed once more. This is his fourth time now, he noted grimly.
Each attempt yielded the same result, nothing.
The soldier behind him scanned their surroundings uneasily, turning his head from side to side, searching for any sign of movement or an incoming attack.
Nathaniel closed his eyes again, steadying his breath.
He focused, stretching his senses outward, trying to grasp even the faintest trace of dark magic.
But nothing...
His brow furrowed.
"Why did the dark magic vanish so suddenly?" he muttered. "It disappeared like a mist… yet earlier, I could clearly sense it here." His eyes snapped open as he turned sharply toward Stefan's direction.
Nathaniel's eyes widened.
Realization struck him like ice down his spine.
A deception.
Their enemy had deliberately misled him splitting the presence, creating the illusion of two sources of dark magic.
One to draw Nathaniel away. The other...
His fist clenched.
to trap Stefan.
"They might be already fighting right now." Nathaniel whispered, dread tightening his chest.
Or worse… The thought went unfinished, but the weight of it pressed heavily on him.
The strength he had sensed earlier it was unmistakable.
Tier 2.
The aura alone was a proof it.
Without hesitation, Nathaniel turned sharply and barked an order. "Follow me. Now."
The soldier responded instantly, breaking into a run behind him as they veered left along the stone wall, toward where the dark presence burned most fiercely.
As they ran, Nathaniel's mind raced.
They're in the sewage tunnels, he concluded. Going back to the main gate will cost us too much time.
His jaw tightened.
"Damn it…" Nathaniel muttered, then spoke louder, his voice calm but urgent. "We'll take another entrance to the sewage tunnel."
He glanced back briefly, ensuring the soldier was keeping a pace.
"We need to hurry."
Their armored boots struck the stone in rapid rhythm, metal and leather echoing through the sleeping village.
Above them, the stars shimmered coldly in the night sky, the pale moonlight casting long shadows silent witnesses to a battle already unfolding beneath the ground.
-----
A faint light appeared at the edge of the sewage tunnel.
Stefan saw it and pushed himself forward, his movements are sluggish and uneven.
Each step felt heavier than the last, his legs trembling as exhaustion dragged at his body.
Seconds later, he reached the tunnel's end and stumbled out into the open area.
The sight before him was no relief.
Brown, filthy water spread into a shallow lake of waste, thick with floating rubbish and rot.
The stench clung to the air, heavy and suffocating.
Stefan waded through it slowly, boots sinking into sludge as ripples spread around his legs.
He stopped at the center of the foul water and lifted his gaze.
Above him, the night sky stretched wide and endless.
Dozens of stars shimmered faintly, and the moon hung so high above in the mighty clouds, it was pale and distant.
Its cold light brushed against his face, washing over him gently almost tenderly.
For a brief moment, the horror of the sewage faded.
The screams.
The darkness.
The crushing pressure of death.
All of it vanished.
Stefan breathed deeply, chest rising and falling as fresh air filled his lungs.
He closed his eyes, just for a heartbeat, grounding himself for a moment.
I'm still alive, Stefan thought.
He lowered his gaze and scanned his surroundings.
Beyond the lake of waste stood only a handful of dark oak trees, their twisted silhouettes looming silently in the moonlight.
Then... A footsteps.
Slow and deliberate.
The Dark Battle Mage emerged from the circular sewage tunnel, shadow clinging to his form like a living thing.
His boots splashed into the filth as he stepped forward.
Stefan's breath hitched.
He retreated instinctively, stepping backward until his heels touched dry ground at the edge of the lake.
Water dripped from his garments as he raised his hands, his stance shifting into a defensive formation.
His body screamed in protest, but his will did not break.
"So." the Battle Mage said calmly, his voice echoing faintly in the open night. "You chose this place." He looked around for a second.
He continued walking forward, black boots and long cloak soaked in brown sludge.
"To die in an unhonorable death." His lips curled into a thin smile. "But I am generous. I will grant you a swift end."
His right palm began to glow with a gray, swirling light, it was dense, unstable, and lethal.
Slowly, and deliberately, he raised it towards Stefan.
Stefan's mouth twisted into a grim smile.
"Bastard…" he muttered, voice low and steady despite the pain tearing through his body. "Do you really think you can take me down that easily?"
Blood dripped from his wound, staining his already ruined garments.
"Before you send me to hell." Stefan continued, lifting his chin, eyes burning with defiance, "I'll drag you there with me. You filthy rascal."
The Dark Battle Mage burst into laughter it was raw, and unrestrained, echoing across the lake.
He reached up and pulled back his hood.
Moonlight revealed his face at last: a sharp jawline, cold murderous eyes, and a thick brown beard framing a cruel smile.
Short brown hair clung damply to his forehead.
Two scars marked his face, one cutting between his eyes, the other slicing across his lower lip.
"Do you truly believe you can defeat someone like me?" he sneered. "You stand alone. And I am the equivalent of two Tier 2 mages."
He stepped closer.
"Beg for mercy." he whispered. "I promise a painless death."
Stefan steadied himself.
This would be his last battle.
Then...
A hand touched his left shoulder.
Warmth spread instantly through his body.
A divine energy.
His wounds eased. His breathing steadied.
A calm, and composed voice spoke beside him. "Now we're even." the voice said. "Two against one."
Stefan's eyes widened slightly as he turned his head.
Nathaniel stood at his side, smiling calmly, radiant despite the filth and darkness.
The Dark Battle Mage tilted his head, amused to it. "Interesting. You say two… yet I see three people Infront of me."
His gaze shifted to the armored soldier standing behind Nathaniel, spear firmly in his right hand.
"But it doesn't matter to me now." the mage continued, voice dripping with confidence. "Even if you outnumber me, I will slaughter you all, at once."
His smile widened.
"I will bathe this village in blood. Chaos will follow." The Battle Mage look to the direction of the village stone wall.
Nathaniel smirked.
Slowly, and deliberately, he removed his long white robe and handed it to the soldier. "Hold this." he said casually. "I'd rather not stain it to likes of this bastard." Nathaniel gesture towards the dark mage.
He rolled his shoulders, stretching his left arm, then his right, as if preparing for training rather than a real battle.
Nathaniel glanced at Stefan.
"You look terrible," he remarked lightly.
Stefan let out a weak breath that almost resembled a laugh.
Nathaniel's eyes hardened as he turned back to the enemy.
"Are you ready, Stefan?" he asked, voice firm and more confident. "Let's dispose of this bastard."
Stefan nodded.
Nathaniel smiled.
Across from them, the Dark Battle Mage smiled as well, wide and eager.
Under the cold moonlight, light and darkness faced one another.
A battle to the death was about to begin.