Amaya knew she couldn’t afford to hold back—not against this opponent.
’If I have to capture him... I’ll need to use my full strength,’ she thought, baring her long, glistening fangs at Kieran.
But Kieran didn’t flinch.
His gaze remained locked on her—sharp, steady, unblinking.
The sword in his hands was ready, glowing faintly as it hovered before him.
Then Amaya moved.
She vanished in a blur—faster than before. So fast, she seed to appear in multiple places at once, her shadow flickering all around them like a mirage.
It was disorienting.
And then—she struck.
Exploding from the shadows above, her shadowy form lood over Natasha, claws drawn and aid to kill.
She had gone around him.
She was behind Kieran!
Natasha’s eyes widened in horror as she spotted the beast descending.
"Kieran, behind you!" she cried, scrambling for her blade. But as she tried to rise, a sharp pain flared in her ankle.
"Shit," she hissed, teeth clenched, collapsing back to the ground.
To her surprise, before her warning could even reach him, Kieran was already moving.
With impeccable timing, he pivoted, raising his sword just in ti to block Amaya’s powerful strike.
His expression remained calm—focused.
But the sheer force behind her punch rattled through his arms, making his muscles tremble despite the blade’s support.
’Damn... she’s strong. If it wasn’t for the sword’s boost, I wouldn’t even be able to hold my ground,’ Kieran thought, eyes flicking around, struggling to keep track of her movents.
Even with his enhanced senses, she was moving too fast. A blur. A phantom of shadows.
He was only managing because she hadn’t used any long-range abilities yet. Every attack required her to get close—and that gave him just enough of a window to react.
’If she has ranged attacks... I’m screwed.’ He prayed she didn’t.
But Amaya wasn’t letting up.
Her assault was relentless—strike after strike, from angles that defied logic. She ca from the left, then the right, then from above. Her movents were unpredictable and rciless.
Kieran’s arms moved in desperation, not grace. His blade barely kept up—blocking her blows just monts before they could reach him.
He was holding his own.
But only just.
’That blade... it’s too sharp! What is it made of?!’ Amaya thought angrily, watching in disbelief as the edge bit deeper into her claws with every clash.
’And how is he even keeping up?!’ Frustration built inside her, fueling her speed as she pushed herself even harder.
~Pang
~Cling
Each strike rang louder, fiercer—more force behind every blow.
Sparks going off as her csharo claws t his blade.
But Kieran wasn’t fooled.
He didn’t have the luxury of dragging this out.
{-40 Aetheris}
’Damn it... my Aetheris is draining fast,’ he thought, gritting his teeth as he deflected another heavy strike.
He had already lasted a few minutes in combat.
Normally, that wouldn’t be a problem.
But the sword was draining him—pulling out a significant amount of energy every minute it remained active.
Each second wore on him like hours.
His limbs were starting to feel heavier, muscles trembling from the constant impact. Every block, every movent, cost him more than the last.
And Amaya wasn’t slowing down.
She was just getting started.
’I need to find an opening... a chance to breathe—and strike,’ Kieran thought, gritting his teeth.
Staying on the defensive was getting him nowhere. His stamina was dropping fast, and with each second, his strength waned.
He had to finish this.
Now—while he still had so Aetheris left.
’He’s weakening... I see it. An opening!’
While Kieran was lost in thought, searching for a way to turn the tide, Amaya had already found her answer.
She’d been attacking him from a mid-range distance, forcing him to focus outward. A clever misdirection.
Because her true specialty wasn’t in those visible attacks.
It was in the shadows.
Their shadows.
That final, fatal strike always ca from within the victim’s own shadow—and they never saw it coming.
That was the fearso nature of Shadow Beasts. Silent. Lethal. Deceptive.
And now, it was ti.
She slipped into the darkness beneath them, sinking into the shadow realm to deliver the final blow.
Kieran, she was sure, wouldn’t be looking down.
He’d already spent nearly five minutes in this battle—burning fifty Aetheris without advancing. The weight of the sword, the pressure of each block, it was piling up.
This was her mont.
And yet—so was his.
’That’s enough wasted ti,’ Kieran thought, drawing in a long breath.
He let his eyes close.
A mory—a skill—replayed in his mind like a vision etched in light. His breathing slowed. He synchronized his body with the movent, letting it flow through him like a wave.
He stopped thinking. And started feeling.
The energy surged outward.
His senses expanded, vast and fluid—like an ocean stretching out across the battlefield.
And in that heightened state, nothing escaped him.
Not even the shadows below.
Amaya, weaving silently through the dark earth beneath him—he saw her.
He knew where she was going.
And more importantly, he knew exactly when she would strike.
So he prepared.
---
Still stunned by Kieran’s earlier appearance, Natasha watched, frozen.
She could feel the tension in the air—thick, coiled, breathless.
Even the night wind seed to pause, waiting.
Then her athyst pendant began to glow, reacting to sothing unseen. Her eyes widened, and instinctively, she turned toward Kieran.
As if connected to him.
And in that instant, their thoughts aligned.
’She’s coming from below!’
Kieran leapt back, his eyes snapping open—burning with purpose.
Dark irises glead, alive with focus and sothing more... sothing divine.
His body moved instinctively, in perfect sync with the image in his mind.
The man of war.
The harbinger of carnage.
For a fleeting mont, Kieran was that man.
Flas roared to life, engulfing the entire length of his blade. The intricate engravings along the sword’s surface glowed through the fire—etched in brilliance, like holy markings.
"Divine Slash... Heaven’s Judgnt," Kieran said, his voice calm and absolute.
No hesitation.
No thought.
Only instinct.
And beneath him, Amaya rose from the shadows.
Her sapphire eyes locked onto the flaming arc descending toward her.
It was radiant.
It was majestic.
It was terrifying.
A beauty that could only precede annihilation.
A chill shot down her spine—familiar and ancient.
The sa fear she’d once felt in the presence of him.
’Run.’
Her instincts scread.
But this ti—it wasn’t the attack that was too slow.
It was her.
This strike was unlike any she had seen before.
It was too fast.
Too precise.
Too final.
In that mont, Amaya knew—
She didn’t stand a chance.
Not against that attack.
She had to use it.
The power she despised.
The power she swore never to touch unless it was life or death.
’I’ll have to borrow from Master...’
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