Feeling Synes’s heavy, murderous intent, Darion stood still, not moving a muscle; he was fully aware of just how powerful the person staring at him was.
That pressure wasn’t just ntal; it seed to sink into his body, forcing him to remain motionless out of sheer instinct for survival.
Yet everything about him was prid to react... but nothing happened.
His muscles remained tense, ready to respond at any mont, though that mont never ca.
Synes did not attack. He didn’t even shift his stance; he watched him, with that faint smile that seed out of place amid the destruction.
The wind swept ash between them, drifting through the shattered streets of Arkham, crashing against cracked walls and structures on the verge of collapse.
The particles floated in the air, spinning slowly before disappearing into the distance.
In the distance, a house finally gave way with a sharp crack, raising a cloud of dust that mingled with the blood-heavy air.
The sound echoed briefly, but failed to break the tension that had built between them.
Darion took a step forward.
The ground creaked slightly under his weight, a sharp sound that seed to amplify in the midst of the silence.
A calculated move, designed to provoke a reaction, to force her to reveal sothing... anything.
But Synes didn’t respond. She rely tilted her head slightly, as if she found the gesture curious, even amusing.
Her expression didn’t change; she remained calm, almost oblivious to the threat.
Then, Darion attacked.
Without further warning, his body moved with the speed of soone accustod to killing.
The steel descended with lethal precision, aid at her neck—a clean strike, executed with the intent to kill.
The blade sliced through the air with a brief, direct whistle, without hesitation.
But it missed, as he had anticipated, so he didn’t panic. What worried him was that Synes was nowhere to be found; she was moving too fast.
The blade sliced through the air, and in that very instant, a chill ran down his spine.
An instinctive warning, faster than any thought.
Darion spun violently, following through with a horizontal slash that would have cut any enemy in two.
The spin was precise, controlled, and executed without losing his balance.
Again... nothing.
No resistance, no impact... only emptiness.
The emptiness returned his attack without resistance, forcing him to readjust his balance at the last second.
His feet barely skidded across the surface, correcting his stance before he lost control.
A wet sound broke the silence.
It wasn’t loud, but it was clear enough to stand out above everything else.
Darion didn’t feel any pain right away. Just a strange sense of detachnt. When he looked down, his left arm was no longer intact.
It took a split second for the image to sink in, as if his mind refused to accept it imdiately.
The armor was still in place, almost intact... but the flesh beneath it had been sliced open as if it had offered no resistance at all.
A clean, unnatural cut, impossible to achieve with brute force.
He stepped back imdiately, forcing his body to remain steady, not to collapse. His mind worked quickly, ignoring the shock.
Every step was calculated, sustained by pure discipline rather than actual stability.
Synes appeared in front of him again. She clapped softly, with an almost enchanted expression.
The sound of her clapping was light, out of place, as if she were celebrating sothing trivial.
"Oh... you reacted better than I thought~."
Her voice retained that playful tone, completely disconnected from the situation.
Darion didn’t respond. His foot slid backward, lowering his center of gravity, adjusting his stance to a full defensive posture.
His muscles tensed even further, adapting to his body’s new condition.
There was no chance of victory. That was already clear. But he could still survive... at least a little longer.
That thought beca his sole focus, pushing everything else aside.
"What are you?"
The question slipped out before he could stop it.
And deep down, he knew he didn’t want to hear the answer.
Synes smiled even more.
The curve of his lips deepened slightly, as if he found the situation increasingly amusing.
"Hm? Isn’t it obvious~?"
His tone was light, almost playful, as if the question didn’t deserve a serious answer.
He vanished again.
This ti, Darion didn’t turn. He lunged forward, breaking his own logic.
His body reacted before his mind, abandoning any predictable pattern.
He crashed through a weakened wall with the force of his body, causing stone and wood to collapse around him. He rolled through the debris and sprang to his feet instantly, ignoring the pain, forcing his senses to pick up on any changes.
Dust swirled around him, blurring his vision for a mont, while fragnts of wood creaked under his weight.
A second later, the ground where he had been standing split open. As if sothing had decided to cut through that exact spot.
The cut was clean, precise, as if the ground itself had been split effortlessly.
Darion gasped for breath. His mind analyzed, dismissed, and reconstructed... to no avail.
Every possibility he considered crumbled before it could take shape.
A scream distracted him.
Sharp. Brief. Cut off too soon.
To his right.
His head turned barely, just enough to locate the source.
One of his n hadn’t gotten far enough away.
His movent had been too slow, or his reaction too late.
Darion saw him... just for a mont.
The soldier was there.
And in that instant, he knew it was already too late.
Synes squeezed the soldier’s head so hard that it began to deform until his eyes popped out and hung from his face; then he applied more force, and the head exploded like a waterlon.
The sound was wet, abrupt, too close, impossible to ignore.
With blood running down her cheeks and bits of brain staining her pale skin, she fell to the ground with a disgusting sound.
The drops fell slowly, marking her skin without her showing the slightest revulsion.
She looked at him as she let go of the headless soldier’s corpse:
The body fell without resistance, hitting the ground with the weight of a lifeless mass.
"Hmm... I like it better when you run~."
Darion charged.
There was no hesitation in his movent, only direct action.
His sword descended in a brutal slash, driven with all his weight. This ti, for an instant, he felt sothing—a slight distortion, as if the air itself had offered resistance.
A minimal resistance, almost imperceptible, but enough to stand out.
Synes tilted her head, intrigued.
A small shift in her expression, as if sothing had finally caught her attention.
"Oh..."
Darion didn’t stop. He unleashed attack after attack, shattering the ground, the walls, and whatever else remained around him.
Every blow was ant to kill, without reservation, without regard for his surroundings.
The city crumbled under the violence of his movents, but she remained there... as if she were simply allowing it to happen.
As if none of it had the power to affect her truly.
Then, his sword stopped.
Abruptly.
Synes’ fingers were blocking it.
Her fingers gripped the blade with unnatural ease, without visible effort.
Darion pulled with all his strength. But the sword didn’t move a single milliter.
It didn’t even tremble under the pressure.
His body reacted before his mind did. He let go of the sword and prepared to strike hard, but he felt sothing warm coming out of his mouth.
The liquid trickled down his lips, thick, with a tallic taste impossible to ignore.
At so point, Synes had swung his sword, making a perfect cut using only brute force.
The movent was so fast that his senses couldn’t register it, leaving only the result.
A clean cut ran across his torso, slicing him open from shoulder to abdon. Darion fell to his knees, spitting blood, feeling his strength begin to leave him.
The impact against the ground was sharp, and his muscles stopped responding as they had before, weakening with every passing second.
...
"It is a pleasure to et you, Master. I am the greatest sorceress in Avalon; my na is Morgana. I hope we will work together for many years to co."
Adam looked at the petite woman nad Morgana with a calm expression, but inside, he was completely thrilled; he’d hit the jackpot with this summoning.
His face didn’t betray that excitent—he remained composed—but his thoughts were racing.
It just so happened that the summoned hero was a master of magic... right at the mont when he was stuck at that point, because while Asterin was an excellent swordmaster, things were different with Morgana, since she, as a sorceress, had a great command of magic.
The coincidence seed too perfect, as if the pieces were finally starting to fall into place.
Adam pushed his thoughts aside and said:
He forced his mind to focus on the present, setting aside any distractions.
"It’s also a pleasure to work with you from now on."
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