Chapter Nine: A hundred-fold
It worked. The shadows had finally responded to the call of their child. However, that faint response was constantly fading, and the more time he wasted, the less information he received from the shadows.
A whole new realm opened up to Dusken as he followed the spikes' movements through their shadows. However, they were too chaotic, and suddenly the shadows flared, sending his brain into overload.
This caused him to take another misstep, allowing a spike to pierce his rib before vanishing just like the previous ones. Yet, the disappearance of the spike did nothing to diminish the pain.
Dusken didn't give up and tried his utmost to grasp the spikes' movements through their shadows, but he failed each time.
This failure caused him to be stabbed repeatedly. Though he endured the pain through sheer willpower, his ten-year-old body faltered under the accumulating wounds.
'There are only five bone spikes left now,' Dusken thought as he sidestepped a spike aimed at him.
The difficulty in accurately grasping the spikes' movements stemmed not only from their chaotic nature but also from the shadows themselves. For some reason, the shadows resisted Dusken, leaving him on the brink of despair.
'I need to focus. If only I could grasp the movements of their shadows, this could strengthen my control over my side ability. But why do the shadows refuse to help me?'
Dusken grimaced as he continued dodging the spikes. His ability to see in the dark played a crucial role in his survival, but as time passed, death loomed over him like a shadow.
Wounds piled on his body, slowing him further and exposing him to more strikes. The pain was indescribable, but he gritted his teeth and endured.
A wide grin spread across his face as he stared at the spikes with a trembling body, exhilaration coursing through his veins as a thought arose in his mind.
'If the shadows refuse to help, I'll force them to.'
Resolving himself, Dusken reached out to a faint connection deep within him that seemed to dwindle with every passing moment. The shadows resisted fiercely, but Dusken focused harder, letting nearby spikes impale his body without resistance.
Damn it! Dusken thought, his frustration mounting. The harder he tried to force that connection to yield, the fainter it became. However, he was making progress. With a hardened jaw, he latched onto the power rippling within him.
A new world began to open, and all the shadows in the area reluctantly shared their senses with him.
One spike's shadow slithered across the ground, heading for the head of Dusken's shadow. He leaned back just in time to avoid it, only for another spike to impale his ankle - a strike he failed to detect.
This was his greatest weakness: he could only focus on one shadow at a time. This lapse left him vulnerable to further attacks. Coupled with the weakness of his body, his limits loomed closer.
Enduring the searing pain that raged through him, Dusken expanded his focus, sensing all three remaining spikes. One aimed for his right rib, another descended toward his left shoulder, and the last sought his stomach.
'He doesn't want to kill me outright,' Dusken realized. Either the demon was holding back, or he wasn't fully in control of the spikes. Dusken knew that, with intent, these three alone could have ended him.
With no time to deliberate, he began to move. He shifted his right rib backwards, dodging one spike by mere centimetres. He leaned his left shoulder forward, allowing the overhead spike to miss him entirely.
Quickly pulling his right leg back, he avoided the spike aimed at his stomach. It tore through his robe, grazing his left rib and leaving a shallow wound.
'This is exhausting but exhilarating!' Dusken cursed inwardly, marvelling at the potential of his ability even as his strength waned.
The shadows within him roared in rebellion, their hold slipping from his grasp. Dusken could feel their defiance growing stronger.
As he readjusted his stance, he noticed his footing was off. He stumbled, falling to the cold, barren desert ground, sending up a cloud of dust that mingled with the icy night air.
The spikes launched at him again, untiring and relentless. Dusken, bound by mortal limitations, struggled to keep up. The shadows he had forcibly subdued sent fragmented signals to his mind, urging him to move. He hoisted himself back up, dodging the attacks awkwardly.
As Dusken avoided the attacks, he realized he was dancing—or at least attempting to. His crude, graceless movements stirred up the desert dust as he twisted and turned.
'This is humiliating,' he thought bitterly. Even so, his efforts bore fruit. He began to grasp the movements of the shadows without overwhelming his mind. But dread filled him as he felt the shadows slipping further from his control, their rebellion intensifying.
The demon, who had been watching in silence, finally spoke.
"How is this possible? What black magic is this? How are you dodging my soul spikes?"
Dusken ignored the incredulous tone, focusing entirely on his fragile hold over the shadows. Any misstep could mean death.
The demon scoffed.
"Hmph! I didn't want to kill you before because I wanted to face you fairly when you reached my level. But now... I'll end you. Your potential is dangerous. I'll crush you here to ensure the human race loses its next genius. Consider it an honour to die by my hands."
The spikes' speed suddenly multiplied, far surpassing anything Dusken could keep up with. Though the shadows' fragmented senses still warned him, his body was too slow to react.
The darkness deepened as though mourning its child's suffering. This change obscured the demon's vision under the oppressive veil of night.
A spike previously heading for his head fell in altitude and stabbed his chest instead, narrowly missing his heart when Dusken twisted at the last moment.
Another spike that headed for his chest also lost direction and tore through his left arm. The final spike, though, accurately now aimed for his head.
Without hesitation, Dusken twisted his shoulder to take the blow head-on. The spike struck, sending waves of unimaginable pain through him. His expression contorted, but he remained standing. Blood poured from his wounds, staining the cold desert sand.
The demon laughed, his voice laced with mockery and pain.
"Hahaha! You've only survived because I'm weakened by the poison. At my peak, you'd already be dead."
The laughter abruptly stopped as the demon prepared to leave. Dusken, trembling from the effort to remain standing, bent down and picked up a bone weapon from the ground.
Fighting against the agonizing pain, he hurled it at the demon's retreating figure - a cloud of white smoke.
The weapon passed through the smoke harmlessly, or so it seemed.
"That won't work on me, Dusk. I'm just a—" The demon's words cut off with a pained scream.
Thick, black blood dripped from the smoke, which began to dissipate. Half of the demon's presence vanished in an instant.
Dusken stared coldly. The demon had caused him pain, and now he had returned it.
"So that was your plan - to poison me with the remnants on the bone," the demon snarled, his voice trembling with both pain and fear.
"Rejoice, Dusk. You've survived today. But one day, I'll return and kill you. Mark my words: I, Ashahell, demon prince of the Soul Clan, will destroy you."
The white smoke dispersed, and the demon vanished into the night. Dusken barely felt the shadows of Ashahell's presence fade away as his final grasp over the shadows vanished.
Slowly, he turned toward the looming palace in the distance. He knew what awaited him, a treacherous, torturous path, but he pressed forward.
His breath came in ragged gasps as he staggered across the desert, blood dripping steadily to the ground.
Halting for a moment, he glanced back in the direction the demon had fled. His eyes, burning with fury and resolve, gleamed through the pain.
"Ashahell," he whispered, his voice filled with menace, "I will find you. I will kill you. This pain you've made me feel today, I'll return it a hundredfold. Mark my words."
Blood trickled from his lips, falling to the cold desert sand. His vision blurred, but his resolve remained unshaken. Turning away, he continued his march toward the palace atop the distant cliff, every step a testament to his unyielding will.