Peter's sword clanged as it met the thick, dark aura that surrounded the Darkness Incarnate. Despite reaching the 8th tier, the fight was becoming more grueling than he had anticipated. Every slash, every precise strike he attempted was met with resistance. The creature was evolving, adapting to his movements. Its aura pulsed, blocking every attack with increasing precision, as though it was learning from him with each exchange.
The once manageable fight had now turned into a battle of attrition. The Darkness Incarnate was growing stronger, its tentacles snapping at him with renewed force, each one faster and more coordinated than the last. Peter's body, while immune to damage thanks to Josephine's blessing, was growing fatigued. His strikes were becoming less effective as the creature adapted, and he was barely keeping up.
The creature's dark aura swirled, thickening, pulsating as though it was mocking him. Each of Peter's attacks, which had once felt powerful, now seemed to be absorbed by the inky blackness. The Darkness Incarnate's grotesque form shifted, its tentacles coiling and twitching with newfound speed.
—
Peter could see Josephine standing in the training courtyard, her face calm but intense as she prepared to demonstrate her technique. He remembered watching her, arms crossed, convinced that what she was about to show him was riddled with flaws. On paper, her style seemed chaotic, full of gaps, far too reckless for someone of her standing.
But when she moved... it was perfection.
Her body flowed through each motion with such fluidity, so naturally that it almost appeared like a dance. And those gaps? They were intentional. She had created openings, yes, but only so her opponent would fall into them. What had appeared as weaknesses were, in fact, traps—bait laid out for anyone foolish enough to attack her.
Peter had watched in awe as she struck with precision, her strikes effortlessly piercing through defenses and landing with pinpoint accuracy. She had made it look so easy, so flawless, that even he had struggled to comprehend what she had seen in his eyes when their duel ended.
"In tough situations, calm your mind. Nervousness will only make it harder to do what you already know how to do. Trust yourself. Stay focused, stay calm, and victory will come."
Peter had never fully understood her words until now.
—-
Back in the present, Peter took a deep breath, centering himself as the creature advanced. His grip tightened on his sword as he pushed all distractions away. He couldn't afford to think about the creature's ever-evolving strength, the thick aura, or the speed of its attacks. His mind had to be clear.
His breathing slowed. He focused on distributing it evenly throughout his body, calming his nerves, as Josephine had taught him. This was the first time he would try her technique. He never thought he would need it, not like this. His instincts screamed at him to run, to strike, to do something, but he forced himself to remain still, waiting for the right moment.
The Darkness Incarnate lashed out with a tentacle, and Peter saw it—an opening. A slight gap in the creature's defense.
Now.
He moved, faster than he had ever moved before. His sword cut through the air in a singular, downward arcing motion—a vertical slash. The tentacle recoiled, severed in one clean strike. Before the creature could react, Peter repeated the motion, his body flowing through the movements Josephine had drilled into him. He severed another tentacle, then another. Ten more came at him, but with each swing, they fell, sliced clean through by his precise, calculated strikes.
The Darkness Incarnate twitched in surprise, its movements suddenly hesitant as Peter advanced. His blade carved through its dark form, piercing its defenses as though they were nothing. The creature reeled, its grotesque body writhing as Peter's strikes landed over and over again. Each blow sent shockwaves of power coursing through his veins as if the technique itself was breathing life into him.
Peter felt a surge of triumph as he drove his sword deeper into the creature, breaking through its dense aura and lodging his blade into its core. The Darkness Incarnate shuddered violently, black ichor spilling from the wound, but it wasn't finished.
The creature screeched, a horrid sound that echoed through the desolate streets of the old capital. The miasma around them began to swirl, drawn toward the creature like a vacuum. The air thickened, becoming oppressive as the Darkness Incarnate began to absorb the very essence of its surroundings.
Peter watched in horror as the creature's form began to change. It pulled itself inward, forming a cocoon of swirling darkness and miasma. The air itself seemed to crackle with raw, malevolent energy, and Peter could feel the weight of its power pressing down on him like a physical force.
The cocoon pulsed, and then it shattered.
Before him now stood a humanoid figure, twisted and grotesque, its form eldrich in nature. Its limbs were too long, its skin too pale and stretched tight over jagged bones. Hollow eyes glowed with a sickly light, and its mouth hung open in a silent scream. The aura it exuded was suffocating, pressing down on Peter like a weight that threatened to crush him.
Before Peter could even react, the creature moved.
It was faster than before. Its grotesque form blurred as it closed the distance in an instant. Peter barely registered the movement before he felt the impact. The creature's foot connected with his chest, sending him hurtling through the air. He crashed through several buildings, the force of the blow shaking the very ground beneath him.
The creature didn't let up.
Peter felt the wind knocked from his lungs as it appeared before him again, its fists slamming into him with brutal precision. Each blow sent shockwaves of pain through his body, his bones rattling with every strike. It was relentless, each attack faster and more vicious than the last. Peter tried to block, to parry, but the creature's speed was inhuman, its attacks unpredictable.
He was breaking.
The relentless assault didn't let up. The creature's tentacles lashed out, binding his limbs, pulling him toward it as it delivered another crushing blow to his abdomen. The world blurred around him as he was thrown into the air, only to be slammed back down into the ground.
For the first time, Peter felt fear creeping into his mind.
He had trained so hard, climbed to the 8th tier under Josephine's guidance, and yet here he was, struggling, being overpowered by this creature of darkness. The weight of its aura pressed down on him, suffocating him, threatening to break him entirely.
I can't lose here. I can't...
His thoughts drifted back to Josephine. To her words, her strength, her relentless drive to carve her own path. He couldn't fall here. Not yet. Not when he had promised himself to become stronger, to stand by her side, to protect her.
But no matter how much he willed his body to move, no matter how much he tried to stand, the creature's onslaught was relentless. Each blow, each strike, felt like it was driving him deeper into the ground, further from his goal.
Am I really... not enough?
The question echoed in his mind as the Darkness Incarnate loomed over him, its grotesque form preparing to deliver the final blow.
I can't lose... I won't lose...
But his body... it wasn't responding. Not fast enough.
The creature's arm came down, a blur of darkness, and Peter's world went black.