The demons weren't just brutes with claws and horns. Among them I saw mages, thorned and draped in strange jewels unlike anything from my race.
The moment their eyes landed on the lone figure on the cliff, they began chanting.
But he never gave them the chance.
"Void Embrace," he whispered. His arm lifted, flames of black fire coiling around it like a second skin.
The demon archers loosed a storm of arrows. They tore through the sky, shrieking as they aimed straight for him.
But then... silence. Every single arrow froze midair, suspended inside a translucent black bubble.
I couldn't believe it. Not even one of the humans was touched. Instead, those same bubbles formed around the demon mages. They clawed, screamed, and poured their mana into breaking free, but nothing worked.
Then I saw it. Their mana wasn't being used, it was being stolen. Sucked dry. Every scrap of it twisted and reshaped into pure darkness. And all of it was feeding him.
The Warlord's mana swelled like a bottomless ocean. His power wasn't just his own.. it was everyone else's too. His skills… they weren't meant for duels or skirmishes. They were built for war.
The demon army faltered, steps uneven, but they didn't stop. They marched on, uglier and more desperate than before.
Then the raven on his shoulder stirred. It took flight, circling higher and higher until its body spun and collapsed into itself, shrinking down into a small dark sphere.
The warlord held it delicately between his thumb and finger.
"Dark Hole," he muttered.
And the world cracked open.
A tear in space appeared before him. Then another. And another. Dozens. No.. hundreds. Holes in the very air itself, scattered across the battlefield.
The demons didn't even care. They kept charging, roaring, storming forward as if none of this mattered.
Then his voice came again, low and steady.
"Seed of Dystrophy."
He tossed the raven-sphere he was holding into the hole before him.
The hole closed, and for a moment, I thought nothing had happened. Then from every one of those rips in space, dried veins and roots burst out like the earth itself had come alive.
They weren't normal roots... these things were gray, shriveled, and hungry. They writhed across the battlefield and sank into demon flesh, drilling deep, sucking, planting themselves in the bodies of their prey and the soil at the same time.
The trees that sprouted weren't trees anymore. They were corpses made of wood and blood-drinking husks. Their branches writhed like serpents, stabbing into demons left and right. Screams tore across the battlefield.
From the dry husks and bark burst out ravens, their bodies woven from the dark mana sucked out of the demons.
They swarmed like living shadows. They dove at the demons' faces, pecking at eyes, raking their backs and arms with razor claws, hovering and striking as the soldiers tried desperately to dodge the blood-drinking husks rising at their feet.
"Aaahhh! Nooo! Get away!"
They tried hacking the roots apart, tried cutting the branches down, but the plants just regrew. They tried to dodge, but for every branch they avoided, ten more grew out of the ground. Thousands were forming every second, swallowing the army whole.
I couldn't move. My breath was caught in my throat. This wasn't a battle anymore. This was a massacre.
I looked at him. The Warlord. He didn't laugh. He didn't gloat. He just stood there watching, bored, like it was nothing more than routine.
And then, a new sound cut through the endless screaming.
From far at the back, the demons' general appeared. His presence alone was like a shadow falling over the battlefield.
He raised his massive sword high, and a ripple of aura pulsed outward. It swept across the field like a wave, rallying the demons' morale.
Their shouts grew louder, fiercer. And at the same time, the blood-drinking plants slowed. Their spread weakened, their regeneration stalled.
The ravens withered away like they never existed.
For the first time, it looked like the demons had hope.
That's when he smiled.
Thin, crimson threads of aura uncoiled from him, spreading in every direction, weaving across miles of battlefield. His voice carried with them, deep and sharp, echoing inside my skull.
"Found you."
The demon general froze. And then he screamed.
In an instant, hulking monsters erupted out of the ground around him. They were enormous.. three times the size of even us orcs, their bodies like walking fortresses of muscle and rage. They formed a wall, shielding their general.
Rune Dreadfort caught the scabbard at his left side, steady and deliberate. His right hand wrapped around the hilt, and with one smooth motion, he unsheathed it.
A soft click echoed, and the blade caught the sunlight for a brief second before a thick, ominous crimson aura swallowed it whole.
Sovereign's aura.
"Guhh"
The air itself grew heavy. I felt the pressure sink into my bones, and the demons without aura couldn't even stand... they dropped to their knees, helpless prey for the trees feeding on them.
Then, with nothing more than a calm slash through empty air, it happened.
A crimson beam shot from his blade, tearing across the battlefield faster than my eyes could follow. Everything in its path, heads, raised arms, spears, even the very wind, was cut apart.
The hulking monsters that shielded the demon general were severed like brittle twigs. The general himself… gone, along with the terrain behind him. It was as though none of it had ever been whole to begin with.
And then… silence. He slid his sword back into its scabbard with the same ease as before, no rush, no struggle, like what he just did was the most natural thing in the world.
Without sparing the battlefield a single glance, he turned and walked away. The few demons that were below the trajectory of his aura blade and survived his strike were already being devoured by the husks and ravens.
His raven, a bulk of darkness, reformed on his shoulder, settling like it had never left.
He walked past me, calm, composed, as if the massacre behind him meant nothing.
Then the raven on his shoulder turned its head toward me. Its eyes, those wide, burning crimson eyes, locked on mine.
Can it… see me?
[Time's up, big guy. Go serve your purpose.]
A transparent blue rectangle with words...
The words barely registered before a sharp pain exploded across my face. I hit the ground hard, my body bouncing off the rough floor. My jaw snapped again.
"Aaahhh!" The pain spread like fire, and I clutched at my face as the artifact kicked in, bones and flesh trying to knit themselves back together.
"Got to your senses?" a voice cut in. I looked up. It was him. The human I was dueling. His mocking smile burned in my head.
"Don't pause in the middle of a duel now," he said casually, like he hadn't just broken me all over again.
Was that… a dream? I wondered, my mind racing. No… it was too vivid. Too real. The weight of the sovereign's aura…
I looked at him again, standing steady, that same mocking smile aimed at me. My chest tightened. My vision trembled.
"That's right. I'm in a duel with this human and…" I froze as the pieces connected. My lips moved before I even realized it. "No… Rune!"
He paused. "Hmm? That's me. What about it?"
My pupils shrank. My whole body shook. The world itself seemed to fade around me, and all I could see was his silhouette.. exactly the same as the one in that vision. Rune Dreadfort.
He appeared right in front of me in a blurry flash, his heavy sword swinging wide.
Yet somehow… there were no openings. Every angle was covered, every move precise, like he understood swordsmanship on a level I couldn't even touch.
I tried to parry, but all I managed was to block head-on, tanking the blow with my own blade.
Crimson aura flared against my purple, sparks hissing between us before the force pushed us both back.
I hadn't even found my footing when he was already on me again.
"Kuek!"
I gritted my teeth, trying to drive my sword at him in desperation. He slipped left, smooth as water, and my blade only cut through air with a sharp bwip.
Then he smirked. "Got you," he said.
My stomach dropped. It was the same tone I had heard in that vision. Found you.
My instincts flared, my body trembling with fear.
His foot crashed into my side, and the world spun as I flew across the field. I hit the ground hard, bounced, bones snapping one after another despite the aura strengthening me.
The artifact flared, forcing my body to knit itself back together. But my thoughts were already spiraling.
No… I shouldn't fight. I can't fight him
"I give up!" I shouted, my voice breaking.
"Whauh..!"
His eyes widened, his aura surging like a storm. And then, in a blink, he was right in front of me, his fist wrapped in crushing aura, aimed straight at my face.
I braced for it. The impact never came.
The air around me dropped cold. Commander Tugnier was there, his massive hand wrapped around Rune Dreadfort's wrist, stopping him mid-swing as if it was nothing.
"The match is over," Tugnier said, his voice heavy, commanding.
Commander Quinn's voice followed, echoing across the arena. "The match is over. Winner is the guest."
Rune's eyes stayed on me, sharp and burning, promising that this wasn't over. Then he ripped his arm free from Tugnier's grip, turned, and walked toward his partner without a word.
Tugnier's eyes came back to me, calm but dangerous, like a man deciding which problem to solve first. "Let us deal with you first," he muttered, like picking homework he didn't want to do.
Yes. It's better to rot in a cell than to stay near that human.
And then the human's voice cut in again, casual but sharp. "Oh, Tugnier. My wish for winning this duel is that you, me, and that traitor… we speak privately. Together."
Huh?