"Impressive. Futile, but impressive."
The demon commander watched Leon approach with amusent that carried undertones of condescension. Its void blade pulsed in his hands.
"Still fighting," the commander mused while studying Leon’s desperate charge. "Your species never learns when to surrender."
Leon’s assault carried him across the gap between them in heartbeats. Shadow-edge blazed with what little necromancy energy remained in his depleted reserves while his body scread protests about overexertion that threatened to tear him apart.
Every muscle fiber burned with exhaustion. His enhanced durability was the only thing keeping him conscious after the beating he’d already endured. Blood loss made his vision flicker at the edges.
Leon adjusting his trajectory mid-flight, fighting through pain that made every movent agony.
Leon feinted left at the last mont, trying to exploit the half-second phasing delay he’d noticed during their earlier exchanges. The commander’s dinsional barriers should solidify briefly during counterattacks, creating windows of vulnerability.
But the entity didn’t fall for the deception. Its form shifted mid-space with fluid grace that made Leon’s tactical thinking look clumsy by comparison. His intelligence processed possibilities faster than mortal minds could conceive.
"Predictable," the commander observed while effortlessly evading. "Mortal minds follow patterns even in desperation. Your tactical database is limited by finite experience."
Leon’s feint left him overextended and vulnerable. He tried to recover his guard, but montum carried him past the commander’s position like a teor burning through atmosphere.
"Your technique lacks refinent," the entity continued while rotating to face Leon’s exposed flank with chanical precision. "Desperation breeds poor form. Proper combat requires centuries of practice."
"Don’t have centuries," Leon gasped while trying to arrest his forward montum.
"Obviously."
Leon twisted desperately, bringing Shadow-edge around in wild arc that should have missed completely. His form was wrong, his timing off, his technique amateur compared to cosmic mastery.
But sohow the blade connected, carving a shallow groove across the commander’s armored shoulder. The impact sent vibrations through Leon’s arm while his weapon bit into flesh that existed partially outside normal space.
Black ichor sprayed from the wound, each drop burning holes in the air where it fell. Just a scratch, barely deep enough to break cosmic skin. But it was the first real contact made since Ethella’s sacrifice.
"Impossible," the commander hissed while golden blood dripped from its wound. The entity’s voice carried disbelief that bordered on outrage. "Mortal steel cannot penetrate my armor."
"Guess I’m special," Leon gasped while trying to maintain distance, his breathing ragged from exertion.
"A fortunate accident. Nothing more."
"Maybe. But it still cut you."
The void blade retaliated with precision that made Leon’s wild swing look pathetic by comparison. He tried to dodge, but exhaustion made his reflexes sluggish. The weapon tore through his right shoulder, severing muscle and bone with ease.
Pain exploded through Leon’s nervous system like molten tal poured directly into his veins. His right arm went limp, Shadow-edge tumbling from nerveless fingers. Blood poured down his side while his system interface scread warnings about critical damage.
"My sword arm," Leon whispered while watching his weapon fall toward the burning city below. The blade that had carried him through countless battles disappeared into smoke and flas.
"Now you understand helplessness," the commander said with satisfaction that carried undertones of cosmic amusent. "Your defiance crumbles when faced with reality."
"Not... helpless yet," Leon managed while clutching his wounded shoulder.
"Denial is common among the dying."
Leon struggled to fight one-handed, swinging wildly with his left arm in desperate attempts to create distance. But without his primary weapon, his attacks were useless against armor that existed across multiple realities.
He tries to summon his manna gun but nothing could be done with a limp hand.
His left hand felt clumsy and weak. Years of training with his dominant arm ant muscle mory worked against him now. Every strike felt awkward and imprecise.
The commander didn’t even raise its void blade again. Instead, it beat Leon down with casual backhand strikes that shattered bones and ruptured organs with cosmic force.
"This is beneath my dignity," the commander observed while drawing back its fist. "But educational for observers."
The first blow caught Leon across the chest, cracking ribs with sounds like breaking kindling. He gasped as air exploded from punctured lungs while internal bleeding began in earnest.
"Pathetic," the commander observed while drawing back for another strike. "Your enhanced durability rely prolongs suffering."
The second hit connected with Leon’s jaw, snapping his head sideways with force that should have broken his neck. Stars exploded behind his eyes while blood poured from his mouth. Teeth scattered like broken porcelain.
The Elite Mage cast protective barrier around Leon’s falling form, channeling what little power remained in his deteriorating matrix. Golden light blazed as undead magic fought to shield its master from cosmic wrath.
"Loyalty even in dissolution," the commander observed with clinical interest. "Fascinating."
But the entity backhanded the Elite Mage out of the sky with dismissive ease. The zombie’s form dispersed in shower of sparks, decades of accumulated consciousness dissolving into component energy that scattered on dinsional winds.
"Even your dead abandon you," the commander said while approaching Leon’s broken form with asured steps. "As all things must when facing infinite power."
Leon crashed into chunk of broken buildings with impact that drove air from his lungs and sent fresh waves of agony through his nervous system. Stone crumbled around him while rebar pierced through his clothes, drawing new lines of blood.
He tried to rise, but his body refused to obey simple commands. Muscles that had carried him through impossible battles simply wouldn’t respond to his will. His left leg bent at an unnatural angle where cosmic force had shattered bone.
Blood pooled beneath him as internal bleeding worsened. He could taste copper and iron while his vision flickered between awareness and darkness. Consciousness threatened to abandon him entirely.
He tried to access his system interface, but nothing answered. The dinsional corruption had finally severed his connection to necromantic abilities completely. He was just broken flesh waiting for death.
Leon’s vision swam, becoming blurry as darkness crept in from the edges like encroaching night. His mother’s face appeared in his mory, smiling as she served breakfast in their tiny kitchen. Elise laughing while they shared dinner by the harbor. Damian offering friendship despite rank differences.
All of it would die with him. Everyone he’d tried to protect would follow soon after.
The demon commander descended slowly, savoring the mont of final victory. Its void blade humd with trapped souls while cosmic energy built beyond asurent. Thousands of voices scread from within the weapon.
"You fought bravely," the entity admitted with sothing resembling respect. "More bravely than most mortals manage when facing infinite power. Your determination was... notable."
Leon tried to speak, but only blood erged from his lips. His throat had been damaged beyond repair during the beating, leaving him mute in his final monts.
"Your determination impressed ," the commander continued while positioning the void blade above Leon’s heart. "But courage without power is rely elaborate suicide. You should have accepted my offer."
The weapon began its descent toward Leon’s chest. In seconds, void energy would erase him from existence, adding his soul to the thousands already trapped within cosmic steel.
"Perhaps your essence will find peace among the others," the commander said with mock sympathy. "Though I doubt it."
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