Aldric's blade came down like it were divine judgment.
And he believed it was.
Liam moved.
Not away...through.
[Blink Activated: -400 Essence]
The world flickered. Reality stuttered. One moment Liam stood in the path of blessed steel that would have split him skull to sternum. The next, he was three paces to Aldric's left, the displacement of air announcing his arrival with a soft thump.
The Commander's holy sword bit stone where Liam had been, carving a glowing furrow in ancient rock.
Aldric spun faster than any human should move, blessed magic enhancing his reflexes. His sword came around in a horizontal slash, trailing golden light.
Liam didn't blink again. Instead, Igar's Shard came up, black metal meeting blessed steel.
The impact was corrupt.
Where their blades met, reality screamed.
Holy fire and Hell's Flame warred against each other, neither consuming the other, locked in furious stalemate. The air around them shimmered with heat—one side gold, one side crimson and black.
Aldric pressed forward, using his greater mass and decades of combat experience.
His blade slid along Liam's, searching for an opening, for the killing thrust.
But Liam's Martial Combat skill filled the gaps his inexperience left. His feet found perfect positioning. His blade angled to deflect rather than block. His body moved with an efficiency that wasn't quite human anymore—movements too precise, too calculated.
They broke apart. Circled.
Around them, the battle raged. But a space had formed—demons and paladins alike unconsciously creating an arena for their champions.
"Impressive tricks," Aldric growled, holy fire gathering around his free hand. "But you're still human. You still bleed."
He thrust his palm forward. A lance of concentrated holy light erupted toward Liam's chest—not blessed steel but pure divine energy, the kind that burned demon flesh to ash.
Liam raised his hand.
[Echo of the Abyss Activated: -150 Essence]
The psychic scream hit Aldric like a physical force. It was more than a sound—something deeper, more primal. The raw, unfiltered terror of the infernal planes compressed into a single targeted burst directly into his mind.
For one fraction of a second, Aldric saw himself standing at the edge of an infinite abyss, darkness below that had teeth and hunger and patience eternal.
He felt what it was like to fall forever. To know that falling was all there would ever be.
The holy lance guttered. Died.
Aldric staggered, his blessed armor suddenly feeling suffocatingly tight. His breath came in ragged gasps, his hands trembling.
'What in the—'
Liam was already moving. Igar's Shard cut through the space where Aldric's neck had been a heartbeat before. The Commander's training saved him—he threw himself backward, rolling across stone, coming up in a defensive crouch.
His eyes, for the first time, held genuine fear.
"What are you?"
Liam didn't answer. His blade traced a lazy pattern in the air, Hell's Flame dancing along its edge.
On the walls, Koth watched with his molten eyes wide.
"Did you see that?" Zara whispered beside him, her usual analytical coldness cracked by something that might have been awe. "He moved through space. That wasn't speed. That was..."
"Impossible," Varg finished, his voice hollow.
He'd been fighting a paladin—had been winning—but found himself frozen, watching the human who wasn't quite human anymore.
The human whose blade burned with the fires of their hell.
The human who fought like he'd been trained by demons and something even worse.
[Collective Belief - Outpost Garrison: +12% → +23%]
Down in the courtyard melee, a demon soldier—Torrgh, a scarred veteran of forty campaigns—split a paladin's shield with his axe. As the human fell, Torrgh's eyes tracked to the center of the courtyard.
To the human. To the lord. To whatever that thing was that wore a human face.
"Blood and ash," Torrgh breathed, reverence creeping into his voice. "He's actually..."
The paladin he'd been fighting took advantage of his distraction, blessed blade cutting toward his exposed side.
A black-scaled hand caught the blade mid-swing. Lieutenant Zara had appeared beside Torrgh, her silver eyes still fixed on Liam's battle even as she casually disarmed the stunned paladin and opened his throat.
"Focus, soldier," she said, but her voice lacked its usual bite. "Don't watch. Fight."
But she was watching too. They were all watching.
Because in the center of the killing ground, the human who'd promised them a horror story was making good on his word.
---
Aldric had recovered. His blessed armor glowed brighter, holy magic channeling through ancient wards and prayers. He was a Commander-Paladin of the Radiant Empire.
He'd slain hundreads of demons. He'd stood against the darkness for twenty years.
He would not fall to a human pretender.
"RADIANCE!" he roared, and his entire body became light.
Not metaphorically.
Actually became brilliant, blinding holy energy that turned his form into a burning silhouette. The ground beneath his feet scorched. The air around him wavered with heat.
He moved faster now, enhanced by divine blessing, his blade leaving trails of golden fire in its wake. A barrage of strikes, each one carrying enough force to shatter stone, each one aimed with killing precision.
Slash. Liam's head.
Thrust. Liam's heart.
Cut. Liam's legs.
Slash slash thrust.
And Liam... danced.
There was no other word for it. His Martial Combat skill read Aldric's patterns, predicted his strikes. His body moved with fluid grace, sword up to deflect, step back to evade, pivot to reposition.
But he wasn't just defending.
Between Aldric's attacks, in the microsecond gaps where the Commander had to reset, Liam struck back.
A cut that opened Aldric's cheek. Shallow. Testing.
A thrust that found the gap in the Commander's elbow joint. Deeper. Drawing blood.
A slash that would have disemboweled if Aldric hadn't twisted at the last instant, taking the cut across his ribs instead.
[Soul-Drinker Activated]