"Let's settle this quickly," Edwin muttered, Eizum grinning back.
Eizum flash stepped forward in an instant, the ground cracking under his boots as he closed the gap. His sword swept in a deadly arc from the right, aimed directly at Edwin's neck. The silver blade gleamed in the dim light, its sharp edge humming with power.
Edwin reacted instantly, raising his hand. A sword of pure Holy Power materialized in his grip, its golden light flaring as it met Eizum's blade mid-strike. The impact sent a massive shockwave rippling through the battlefield, the air itself shuddering as a deafening clang echoed. The force of the collision pushed snow and dirt outward in a circular blast.
Eizum's lips curled into an excited smile, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of unease. Before he could react further, the lion's upper torso, which formed the hood around Edwin, came alive. Its claws stretched outward in a blur, glowing with the same golden energy as the sword.
Eizum took a quick step back, narrowly dodging the lion's claws as they sliced the air in front of him. His instincts flared, but his boots suddenly snagged. He glanced down and saw golden lion jaws rising from the ground, their ethereal teeth locking onto his ankles.
His silver cape lashed out in an instant, its razor-sharp edges severing the glowing jaws, freeing him. Eizum didn't pause. He dropped low, ducking as the lion's claws swept overhead, missing him by inches. In a fluid motion, he drove his sword forward, silver energy gathering at its tip. The blade extended unnaturally as it pierced into Edwin's torso, the silver energy exploding in a flash of light.
Eizum yanked on the hilt to withdraw his weapon but found it immovable, as though caught in an invisible vice. Edwin had tightened his abdomen around the blade. A nervous grin tugged at the bandit king's face as he released the sword, his head snapping side to side, scanning for the next threat.
He sensed and saw it—movement behind him. The lion's golden form had stretched and coiled around like a serpent, its glowing jaws snapping toward his legs. Reacting with impossible speed, Eizum executed a backflip, his body twisting gracefully in mid-air as the lion missed him by a hair's breadth.
He landed with precision, immediately channeling power into the tips of his toes. With a burst of speed, he flash-stepped backward, his boots skidding across the ground. Snow and dirt piled up behind him until the friction finally brought him to a stop.
Eizum straightened, his sharp eyes locking onto Edwin. His expression contorted with a mix of emotions as he saw the Holy Knight Captain in front of him devolve. Drool dripped from the corners of Edwin's mouth, and his pupils darkened to a deep crimson. The veins across his body bulged visibly, throbbing with each heartbeat. His ash-gray hair lengthened and turned golden, cascading down his back in a wild mane that reached his waist. His breathing deepened, each exhale laced with a guttural growl.
One minute had passed.
5 years had been shaved off of Edwin's life.
The lion took full form around Edwin, its body massive yet tightly coiled around him like armor. Its claws and paws clung to his limbs, its golden form glowing with raw holy power. Drool dripped from its snarling jaws, matching Edwin's wild demeanor while the beast's eyes burned, mirroring his ferocity.
Eizum felt a single bead of sweat trail down the back of his neck as he watched Edwin lower himself into a predatory stance. The golden aura that had seeped into the ground burst outward, transforming into enormous, glowing lion jaws that surged forward like a tidal wave, their sharp teeth snapping hungrily in unison.
Eizum's silver cape responded instantly, stretching and elongating into a wall of glimmering lances. With a sharp motion, the lances shot forward in a barrage, meeting the lion jaws mid-air. The impact sent shockwaves through the field, light and energy clashing violently as the two forces collided.
Even as the lances intercepted the wave, Eizum darted forward. His sword glinted in his hand as he raised it high, bringing it down in a swift arc aimed straight at Edwin's head. Edwin reacted just as quickly, raising his golden sword to block.
But Eizum wasn't done. He shifted his weight to his back foot and pivoted with expert precision, twisting his downward swing into a sudden upward slash. The blade's edge caught Edwin's face, slicing cleanly across it before the man could fully pull back.
Blood sprayed from the deep wound as Edwin staggered. His face, now split apart, revealed flashes of raw muscle and bone beneath. The sight was grotesque, yet Eizum felt no triumph. A chill crept through his chest as Edwin's body remained unnervingly steady.
Golden light surged from the wound, stitching the flesh back together with blinding speed. Within moments, Edwin's face was whole, as if the strike had never happened. He lowered his head slightly, his gaze locking onto Eizum with an animalistic vehemence that sent a shiver through the Bandit King.
Eizum barely had time to process the regeneration before Edwin moved. The golden sword in his hand flashed through the air with blinding speed. Eizum's instincts screamed like a beeping alarm. The sheer velocity made it impossible to block or parry. His armor wouldn't hold against such force.
In a desperate gamble, Eizum retracted the silver armor across his body, concentrating its entirety onto his chest. His lips moved in a silent prayer to gods he'd never believed in, hoping against hope that this attack wasn't a feint.
The sword connected with a sound that clawed at the ears—a piercing screech like nails dragged across a chalkboard. The golden blade raked across the dense silver shield on Eizum's chest, sparks flying as the metal dented under the incredible pressure.
Eizum gasped as pain exploded in his chest. The concentrated armor had held, but the force sent him stumbling backward. He coughed violently, a dark spray of blood staining the ground beneath him. His knees nearly buckled, but he caught himself, a vicious smile spreading across his bloodied lips.
"I'm still alive… holy fuck…" he shakingly whispered under his breath, his voice rasping with pain and grim satisfaction.
The silver aura spread out once more, coating his entire body in shimmering armor. Eizum straightened, his eyes blazing with renewed determination, even as his chest ached with every breath.
Two minutes had passed.
10 years had been shaved off of Edwin's life.
Eizum clenched his jaw as thoughts raced through his mind. There was no point in continuing a fight he couldn't win. Any rational leader would retreat, regroup, and strike again under better circumstances. Yet here he stood, rooted in the snow-strewn battlefield, staring down the maddened figure of Edwin and his monstrous golden lion.
Although, it wasn't like he was here at this fortress for no reason.
If it weren't for the fortress—this cursed fortress. If it weren't for the beast that dwelled within it. Eizum needed its assistance. Not for riches or conquest, but for something far more personal: a cure. A cure for the curse that consumed the one person he truly cared about in this godforsaken world.
He let out a deep, shuddering breath, his free hand rising toward his forehead. His index finger trembled for a moment before pressing into the hollow hole in the middle of his forehead. His finger sank, disappearing as the flesh writhed and twisted around it. Pain shot through his body, but he bared his teeth and roared into the heavens.
"PARASITE! TAKE IT! IF IT IS MY BRAIN YOU WISH TO CONSUME, THEN CONSUME IT! AS LONG AS I WIN!"
A fine line exists between arrogance and naivety, and crossing it often costs a person far more than they realize. To live arrogantly is to overestimate one's worth, to claim maturity where none exists. Yet to live naively is to underestimate the weight of the world, failing to see the sharp edges of its truths until they cut too deep.
Eizum thought he had crossed that line years ago when he began building his bandit troupe. He believed that his arrogance had been tempered, replaced with confidence born of strength. He acknowledged his faults but wore them proudly, convinced they were justified by his power and the reputation he'd carved for himself.
But even then, he had been blind. His strength was not wholly his own. It stemmed from the parasite. The same creature he had assumed was unique to him, a singular anomaly in a world he thought he understood. He had done cursory research and concluded there was nothing more to learn. Arrogance clouded his judgment, and naivety kept him from seeking deeper truths.
Had he delved further, he might have learned that parasites were not mere grubs clinging to their hosts…
But gods of a forgotten land.
Suddenly, his vision went dark, and the icy battlefield vanished. A sharp, guttural laugh filled his ears, growing louder, sharper, more menacing with each passing second. His surroundings dissolved into a suffocating black void.
Then he saw it—a silver grin materializing in the darkness, gleaming like a blade under moonlight. The laugh ceased, replaced by a single, cutting word that echoed in his mind.
"No."
The darkness shattered, and his vision returned. He was back in the snow, his body rooted to the spot. Before him, Edwin was already charging, his golden sword raised high, the lion surrounding him roaring with bloodlust.
Eizum's breath hitched as he gripped his sword tightly. He had no choice but to fight. He had to win this fight otherwise…
'I'm so close to the answer,' he thought to himself. 'I can't give up now.'
Eizum stumbled backward, his breaths ragged and uneven. The snow beneath him was stained crimson, his blood mixing with the frost as Edwin loomed over him like a golden specter of death. The lion's claws, now extensions of Edwin's form, lashed out repeatedly, forcing Eizum to dodge with diminishing strength. His silver armor had been shredded in places, barely clinging to him, and his cape, once majestic and radiant, was in tatters.
Each strike of Edwin's sword radiated golden light, cleaving the air with terrifying force. Eizum parried where he could, but the onslaught was relentless. The golden aura that stretched along the ground surged upward in waves, transforming into snapping jaws that clamped and tore at him. He swung desperately, his sword glowing faintly with silver energy, but it was like trying to cut through a raging sea with a dull blade.
A claw struck him in the side, sending him crashing into a snowbank. Pain flared through his ribs, and he spat blood, his vision swimming. Edwin advanced, the lion now fully merged with his body, its drooling maw open wide and fangs glistening. Eizum gritted his teeth, forcing himself to his feet, but his knees buckled.
"STAND!" He shouted at himself. "FUCKING STAND YOU PATHETIC PIECE OF SHIT!"
He rose. Despite his stamina being pushed to the bottom of its barrel… he rose to his feet.
However, that exhaustion clouded his judgment.
In a single final attempt, the bandit king tried one last gambit, thrusting his sword forward with a roar, but Edwin deflected it effortlessly. The golden sword came down, slicing across Eizum's chest and sending him sprawling to the ground. His breath hitched as he felt the icy grip of death tightening around him.
Edwin stood over him, his expression devoid of mercy. The golden aura surged around him, condensing into a massive claw that hovered above Eizum. This was it. The final blow.
But.
Awakening any power, whether mana, aura, holy power, or more, has always been seen as a simple process, yet only for those with an innate affinity. These individuals, chosen by fate, typically discover their gift by the age of five, their potential flourishing as naturally as a flower blooms.
Yet there are exceptions.
On rare occasions, individuals without affinity awaken powers through sheer desperation, their bodies responding to the unrelenting force of survival. Yet even then, this awakening demands an unshakable will to live, a fire that refuses to be extinguished. For those who possess this will, a miracle might occur—a gift of mana, aura, holy energy, or another power born from their defiance.
However... these powers were but a fraction of the complete pie of powers they could receive. 1% broken down between mana, aura, holy power, and the several other powers existing within this world.
The remaining 99%?
Well, that was reserved for those who reached the brink of death. Something reserved for those who tasted the metal on the reaper's scythe. Those who had grazed the surface of the underworld too many times in their life.
Demonic energy.
It is a force as ancient as the earth and as cold as the reaper's scythe. It does not grant life so much as it twists it, reshaping the desperate into something both terrible and unstoppable.
Eizum's body trembled. His hands clawed at the blood-soaked snow beneath him, and his breath came in shallow gasps. Edwin's golden claw descended, ready to end him, but a faint, dark mist began to swirl around Eizum. It rose from his wounds, from the ground, and from the air itself.
His eyes suddenly dimming, the silver hue of his pupils fading to an abyssal black.