After Marcus shouted, his lackeys began to surround Luther, approaching him slowly with weapons in hand and a mix of confidence and fear in their eyes. Enraged and consumed by fury, Luther didn't wait for them to strike first. Without warning, he darted forward like a lightning bolt toward the nearest one.
In one fluid motion, he jumped onto the closest lackey and knocked him to the ground. Without giving him time to react, Luther started pummeling him with both fists, each punch harder than the last. The man's face quickly became swollen and bloodied, and his cries grew fainter until he fell completely unconscious.
Another lackey, seeing his companion on the ground, seized the chance to lunge at Luther. With a quick swing of his sword, he managed to cut Luther's arm, and blood began to drip from the wound. Ignoring the pain, Luther got up swiftly, dodging the sword strikes with precise movements while using his daggers for defense. As he dodged, he found an opening and threw one of his daggers, embedding it deep in the attacker's abdomen. The lackey let out a scream of pain before collapsing to the ground, clutching his wound.
But Luther had no time to recover. Another lackey attacked him from behind, managing to grab him tightly and lock his arms. "I've got him!" the man shouted as the remaining two lackeys approached with sadistic grins.
Taking advantage of the situation, the two others began punching Luther in the face, each blow stronger than the last. The impact broke his nose, and blood started streaming down his face. Luther growled, struggling to break free, but the grip of the lackey holding him was unyielding.
Luther, however, refused to give up. Summoning every ounce of his remaining strength, he pushed back with his body, causing the man restraining him to lose his balance. Using the momentum, Luther planted his feet on the man's chest and propelled himself forward, extending his legs to kick the two lackeys in front of him. The impact was powerful enough to send all three of them crashing to the ground.
Luther landed on top of the man who had been restraining him. Without wasting a second, he began punching him furiously, releasing all his pent-up rage. His punches slowed with each strike as exhaustion began to take its toll, but he didn't stop until the man was unconscious, his face completely disfigured.
Panting heavily, Luther staggered to his feet. His muscles ached, his vision was blurry, and he could feel blood running down his face. He could barely stand, but his determination remained unbroken. The two remaining lackeys, though injured, took advantage of his weakened state to grab him from both sides, forcing him upright and holding him tightly.
Seeing that Luther was finally subdued, Marcus smiled with satisfaction and walked slowly toward him. He was dragging Elise by her hair, her body limp and lifeless. Marcus stopped in front of Luther, looking at him with a triumphant expression.
"And now what, Luther?" Marcus sneered, his deranged grin widening. "Still think you can play the hero?" As he spoke, he lifted Elise's face with one hand, revealing her pale, bloodied features. "Look what happens to those who trust you."
Luther, his mind clouded by anger and pain, froze as he looked at Elise's face. His eyes focused on the cuts on her skin, the scratches from the brutality of being dragged, and the marks that clearly showed Marcus's abuse. His body began trembling violently, and his mind filled with darkness.
Inside his head, a voice resonated like a deep, ominous echo. It wasn't Twilight; this voice was far darker, inhuman, as if something ancient and primal had awakened within him.
"Kill them. Kill them. Kill them. KILL THEM. KILL THEM."
The mantra was relentless, engulfing him in a spiral of rage and despair. The lackeys holding him began to look at him with confusion and fear, noticing how his body trembled more intensely, almost as if convulsing. Unable to resist the pressure, Luther let his head fall forward, and in an instant, he lost consciousness.
The silence that followed was brief. As if driven by some supernatural force, Luther's head snapped up abruptly, moving in a way that seemed nightmarish. His eyes were completely black, like an abyss, and his bloodied face bore an expression that was no longer human. The lackeys stepped back, but it was too late.
With a single motion, Luther extended his arms and pushed the two men holding him, sending them flying to the ground with incredible force. Before they could react, he pounced on them with impossible speed. Grabbing both by their necks—one in each hand—he began squeezing with brutal strength. Their faces turned purple as they struggled helplessly, weakly begging for mercy with faint whispers.
Marcus, watching the scene, let go of Elise and backed away with trembling steps. For the first time, his deranged grin was replaced by palpable fear. "What the hell is wrong with you, Luther? Stay back!" he shouted, but his voice barely concealed the terror overtaking him.
Luther, deaf to the pleas, muttered in a deep, guttural voice, as if possessed: "Kill them... kill them... kill them..."
When the two lackeys lost consciousness, Luther tossed them like ragdolls, their bodies slamming violently against a nearby tree. A sickening crack marked the impact, making it clear they wouldn't get up anytime soon.
From his fingers, dark shadows began to seep slowly, spreading as if an invisible creature were possessing him. The dense, dark energy moved like lightning along his fingers, covering his forearms entirely. The air around Luther grew heavier, colder, and Marcus trembled, unable to tear his gaze away from the spectacle.
"What... what are you?" Marcus stammered, taking steps backward, trying to maintain distance. Luther didn't respond. His black eyes locked onto Marcus, brimming with lethal intent.
Slowly, Luther began walking toward him. Every step he took was like a death sentence for Marcus, who retreated at the same pace. "Stay away from me! I'm warning you!" Marcus yelled, but his voice was barely a whisper.
Then, in an instant, Luther moved with impossible speed, vanishing from Marcus's sight and reappearing right in front of him. Before Marcus could react, Luther grabbed him by the neck with one hand, lifting him off the ground as if he weighed nothing. Marcus flailed, kicking and trying to free himself from the crushing grip on his throat.
With a brutal motion, Luther hurled Marcus to the ground with devastating force. The impact reverberated through the clearing, and Marcus let out a blood-curdling scream as his spine cracked under the blow. Tears streamed down his face as he tried to move, but the pain left him completely paralyzed.
"Please..." Marcus whimpered between sobs. "Please... don't kill me..."
Luther raised his right hand, now entirely covered in writhing shadows. A black sphere began to form in his palm, growing rapidly as sparks of dark energy crackled around it. The orb, brimming with destructive power, doubled in size within seconds.
Marcus, staring at his impending doom, screamed uncontrollably, his voice filled with pure terror. "Luther, please! Don't do it! I'm begging you!"
But Luther didn't hear him. His eyes were empty, his mind consumed by rage and darkness. He was ready to end it all, to erase Marcus from existence. Just as he was about to hurl the sphere, his body began to sway. The energy he had amassed was too much, and the exhaustion from the fight finally caught up to him.
Luther collapsed to the ground, unconscious, as the sphere of energy discharged uncontrollably. It flew into the forest, exploding in the distance. The resulting blast was deafening, destroying trees and leaving a massive crater where vegetation once stood. The wind kicked up dust and leaves, shrouding everything in a cloud that darkened the area.