The aura around Noir pulsed like a living entity, crackling with dark, raw energy. His form flickered in and out of focus, barely visible through the violent surge of power that now engulfed him. His crimson eyes, glowing through the shadows, locked onto Kaelthor with an intensity that sent chills through the onlookers. Every muscle in Noir's body trembled, not just from the battle, but from the monstrous force coursing through him.
Kaelthor, struggling to his feet after being thrown into the Enclave's walls by the sheer force of Noir's power, wiped blood from his mouth and gripped his sword tightly. His body screamed in protest, but his resolve remained unbroken. Even in the face of this unimaginable power, Kaelthor would not yield.
"Is this what you've become?" Kaelthor spat, his voice thick with disgust. "A slave to the darkness? Do you even know who you are anymore, or has that power consumed everything?"
Noir's voice, layered with a deep, inhuman resonance, rumbled back from the depths of the swirling shadows. "I am still the leader of the Enclave. I am still the one who will protect my people. But this power... it's more than I expected."
Kaelthor adjusted his stance, his eyes narrowing as he scanned Noir's twisted form. "You've already lost, Noir. You may have power, but you've sacrificed control. And that's how you will fall."
In an instant, Noir vanished. His Umbra Step had been enhanced by the dark energy, making him faster than Kaelthor could even perceive. The shadows swallowed Noir whole, leaving only a faint trace of his presence, like a whisper in the night. Kaelthor spun around, his sword raised, but Noir was already behind him.
With a deadly hum, the Grimreaper sliced through the air, aimed directly for Kaelthor's back. Kaelthor, using his instincts honed from years of battle, barely managed to raise his shield in time. The force of the blow, however, sent him skidding backward, his shield buckling under the impact.
"You're too slow," Noir's voice echoed from everywhere and nowhere. "You can't keep up."
Kaelthor gritted his teeth, his breath labored. Noir's attacks were relentless, and his movements were now nearly impossible to predict. The monstrous power coursing through him had enhanced not only his speed but the ferocity of his strikes. Kaelthor needed to slow the fight down, to make Noir vulnerable. But how?
Noir, sensing Kaelthor's hesitation, pressed forward. He activated Relentless Doom, a devastating flurry of strikes from the Grimreaper that fed off the captain's energy with every hit. Kaelthor could feel his strength draining with each blow, the dark energy sapping his vitality, making it harder to move, harder to breathe. Each slash cut deeper, more vicious than the last.
"This fight was over before it began, Kaelthor," Noir growled, his voice a cold, unforgiving whisper. "You stand no chance."
Kaelthor, grimacing from the pain, was forced back again, his shield shattered and his armor dented from the sheer brutality of the assault. Still, he refused to fall. "I've faced worse," he snarled, his voice hoarse but defiant. "And I'll fight you to my last breath!"
With a roar of determination, Kaelthor activated his Rallying Cry, the force of his shout reinvigorating not just himself but the soldiers watching the battle unfold. His body surged with newfound strength, and despite the pain, he forced himself to press forward. He couldn't afford to falter—not now, not when so much was at stake.
Noir's eyes flickered, momentarily taken aback by the surge of energy in Kaelthor's movements. The monstrous aura within him urged him to finish the battle quickly, to end this once and for all. Yet, something inside Noir resisted. The power was becoming too much to handle, threatening to slip beyond his control.
Sensing an opening, Kaelthor charged with all his might. His sword gleamed as he swung with the intent to cleave through Noir's defenses. But before he could land the strike, Noir vanished again, using Umbra Step to slip into the shadows, blending completely with the darkness.
"Where are you?" Kaelthor growled, his sword raised in frustration. His eyes darted through the haze of battle, but Noir was gone, hidden within the black tendrils of shadow that coiled through the air.
From the depths of the dark, Noir's voice echoed, distorted by the monstrous power. "I am everywhere, Kaelthor. You cannot fight what you cannot see."
Suddenly, Noir reappeared right in front of Kaelthor, his Grimreaper swinging in a deadly arc. Kaelthor raised his sword to block, but the force of the blow shattered what remained of his defenses. The impact sent Kaelthor sprawling backward, his body crashing into the ground. His armor dented, and blood seeped through the cracks as pain wracked his entire form.
"Is this the best you can do?" Noir asked coldly, standing tall and menacing above his fallen opponent. The monstrous aura around him continued to pulse violently, the power threatening to overwhelm even Noir's iron will. His breath was ragged, his grip on the Grimreaper tightening as he tried to maintain control.
But the power was too much.
Kaelthor, lying on the ground, gasped for air. His body screamed in protest as he forced himself to rise, one hand gripping his sword while the other clutched at the ground for support. "You think... this power... makes you unbeatable?" Kaelthor rasped, blood trickling from his mouth. "You're wrong... Noir. You've already lost."
Noir's eyes flickered, a crack in his resolve as the words hit home. The monstrous aura inside him throbbed violently, its whispers growing louder, more insistent. It clawed at his mind, twisting his thoughts, blurring the line between himself and the power. The shadows that once obeyed his will now writhed chaotically, threatening to consume him entirely.
"I will not... fall," Noir muttered through clenched teeth, though his voice betrayed the strain. "This power... it won't destroy me..."
But as Kaelthor watched, he saw the doubt in Noir's eyes. The once cold and calculating leader of the Enclave now stood on the brink of losing everything. Kaelthor saw his chance.
With a roar of defiance, Kaelthor forced his body to move. He swung his sword in a wide arc, aiming for Noir's exposed chest. But before the blade could connect, Noir's monstrous aura erupted in a violent explosion. A wave of dark energy blasted outwards, sending Kaelthor flying across the battlefield.
The captain slammed into the walls of the Enclave, collapsing to the ground, his body wracked with pain. His vision blurred as he struggled to stay conscious, his grip on his sword slipping as darkness crept into the edges of his sight.
Noir, now fully consumed by the dark energy, stood in the center of the battlefield, his form barely recognizable. The shadows twisted around him like living creatures, writhing and gnashing as they tore at his mind and body. The power was too much—too overwhelming. It was no longer a tool he wielded, but a force that had taken control of him.
"This... this isn't how it was supposed to be," Noir whispered, his voice filled with anguish. "I was supposed to control it... to use it... not to become it."
Kaelthor, gasping for breath and barely able to move, watched in disbelief as Noir fought against the power inside him. "You've lost," Kaelthor said weakly, his voice barely audible. "This power... it's destroyed you."
Noir's crimson eyes flickered, his grip on the Grimreaper tightening as he struggled to regain control. But the power surged again, more violently this time. His body convulsed, and his vision blurred as the monstrous aura consumed every thought, every emotion. All that remained was pain and fury.
"I can't... let it win," Noir whispered, though his voice trembled with desperation. "I won't... let it win."
But the power had already taken him too far.
With one final, desperate scream, Noir raised the Grimreaper high above his head. The blade, now glowing with dark, malignant energy, pulsed with the intent to deliver one last, devastating blow.
Kaelthor, barely able to stand, watched in horror as Noir gathered his remaining strength for the final attack.
The soldiers on both sides stood frozen in terror, the outcome of the battle hanging in the balance.