The Knife Market was gone.
What had once been a den of whispers, blades, and shadow-bargains now lay in ruins. The stalls were nothing but cinders; the cobblestones bled crimson in rivulets that steamed in the cold night air. Smoke coiled into the sky, blotting out the stars. The air stank of burnt flesh and spilled entrails.
And in the center of that devastation, two figures faced each other.
Ethan Cross, battered and bloodied, his dagger a broken fang glistening with gore. His body screamed with exhaustion; every heartbeat felt like it might tear him apart. Yet his eyes burned hotter than the flames around him, bright with an unyielding defiance.
Opposite him stood the Shadow. Calm. Immaculate. Untouched. The First Blade of the Syndicate. His mask reflected the firelight, its scarred surface grinning like a demon in the dark. His sword gleamed, untainted by the carnage that had swallowed his comrades.
The battlefield hushed. Even the dying groans seemed to fall silent.
The Shadow's voice carried like smoke through the ruin."You stand alone, Ethan Cross. Your allies broken, your body failing. Yet still you rise."
He lifted his blade with effortless grace, as though death itself obeyed his hand."That is why the Syndicate wants you. Not dead. Not discarded. Consumed."
Ethan spat blood into the ash, dagger raised in shaking fingers."Then you'll choke on me."
The Duel Begins
The Shadow struck first.
A blur of steel cut through the smoke. Ethan barely raised his dagger in time, the impact ringing like a bell in his bones. He stumbled, vision blurring from the sheer weight behind the blow.
Before he could breathe, the Shadow was gone—vanished into the haze.
Clang! A strike from behind. Ethan twisted, parrying by instinct. His dagger scraped sparks across the Syndicate blade, but his arms trembled with the shock.
The Shadow's voice whispered around him, disembodied, impossible to place."You fight well. Too well for a street rat. Who trained you? Or did the system shape you alone?"
Ethan snarled, slashing blindly. His blade caught only air."Doesn't matter. I'll carve my own way."
The Shadow appeared again, sword descending in a perfect arc. Ethan ducked, rolled, lashed upward—and felt his dagger slice cloth, not flesh. Too shallow. Too slow.
The Shadow was faster. Stronger. Perfect.
System Warnings
The HUD screamed in Ethan's skull:
[Critical Condition: 19% Vitality Remaining][Blood Vow Exceeding Safe Threshold – Backlash Imminent][Recommendation: Cease Combat Immediately]
Ethan laughed, hoarse and ragged, even as blood trickled from his lips."Cease combat? With him?"
The Shadow's sword kissed his ribs, a shallow cut but deep enough to sting. Ethan staggered, clutching the wound.
"You cannot win," the Shadow said simply. "Join us. Serve the Syndicate. And you will wield power beyond imagining. This world will kneel."
Ethan's reply was raw, torn from somewhere deeper than bone."I already swore my power. Not to you. Not to anyone. To myself."
He raised his dagger, shaking but unbroken."I don't kneel."
The Shadow Unleashed
The Shadow's blade darkened. Shadows crawled from the broken stalls, tendrils wrapping the steel like venom. His presence deepened, the world bending around him as if the night itself had answered his call.
[New Threat Detected: Shadow Art – Umbral Dominion]
Ethan felt it immediately. The air thickened. His movements slowed, as though unseen chains coiled around his limbs. The Shadow moved like lightning, unhindered, his strikes flawless, inevitable.
Steel tore Ethan's shoulder. His dagger flew from his grip.
Pain ignited every nerve. He hit the ground hard, vision dimming. The Shadow loomed above him, blade raised for the final cut.
"This is mercy," the Shadow said softly. "To end you cleanly."
Blood Vow Ascends
Ethan's heartbeat roared in his ears.
Not yet.Not here.Not like this.
The system flared red:
[Blood Vow: Critical Limit Reached][Option: Override Safety Protocols?][Warning: Irreversible Consequences Possible]
Ethan bared bloody teeth."Do it."
[Blood Vow Override Initiated][Evolution Triggered: Crimson Oath – Stage II]
The world detonated.
Blood ignited in his veins, turning agony into raw power. His body lurched upright, every wound blazing with crimson light. His dagger, lying forgotten in the ash, flew to his hand as though dragged by fate itself.
The Shadow's blade descended—Ethan caught it, barehanded. Blood spilled between his fingers, but he held it.
His eyes burned red as hellfire."Your shadows aren't deep enough to drown me."
The Counterattack
Ethan surged forward, dagger flashing with unnatural speed. His strike split the night, carving across the Shadow's mask. Sparks and blood flew.
For the first time, the Shadow staggered. A crack spiderwebbed across his mask, revealing one sharp, human eye beneath. Cold. Calculating. And now, surprised.
The duel became chaos.
Steel clashed, shadows writhed. Ethan moved like a beast unchained, each blow fueled by rage and oath. The Shadow countered with impossible precision, but his perfection now met something beyond calculation—raw will.
Ethan's blade tore his cloak. His blood painted the stones.
Still, the Shadow endured."You burn too brightly. You'll consume yourself before you consume me."
Ethan's dagger pressed against his blade, face inches away, blood mingling between them."Better to burn free than rot in chains."
The Final Clash
The Shadow drew upon everything. His sword became a storm of darkness, strikes faster than thought. Ethan's body screamed with every movement, his flesh tearing under the strain of Crimson Oath.
The system thundered warnings, but he drowned them in fury.
Then came the opening.
A single heartbeat. A single misstep.
Ethan dropped low, shadows clawing at his skin, and drove his dagger upward with every ounce of his soul.
The blade pierced the Shadow's chest.
Silence.
The Shadow froze. His mask tilted down, staring at the steel buried in him. Blood spilled, hot and black in the firelight.
He staggered back, sword slipping from his hand, embedding in the stone. For a long moment, he stood tall despite the mortal wound.
His voice was softer now. Almost admiring."You… truly… defy the Syndicate."
The mask cracked in half, falling away to reveal a face Ethan would never forget—human, yes, but carved with scars, eyes like the abyss.
Then he collapsed, crimson flooding the ash.
The Aftermath
Ethan stood swaying, every breath agony. His dagger dripped red into the ruin, his veins burning with backlash.
Marcus lay unconscious. Aria crawled weakly, blood staining her lips. But they were alive.
The Knife Market was dead.The Shadow was slain.And Ethan Cross had carved his name into legend.
The system spoke at last, voice trembling like the world itself:
[Elite Kill Confirmed – First Blade, Codename: Shadow][System Alert: Syndicate Retaliation Probability – 99.9%][Title Earned: Blood Reaver of the Knife Market]
Ethan's laughter was broken, ragged, but real."Let them come."
The flames roared higher, painting him in blood and fire.A new name had been born in the underworld.