Darius moved the instant the demon did.

  Devotion burned in his hands, the blade glowing a deep, furious red as if it had been pulled fresh from a forge rather than drawn from a sheath. The demon came at him with a speed nearly that of Lucen. One heartbeat, it stood coiled and snarling, the next its claws were already upon him, cutting the space apart with shrieks of screaming air.

  Darius did not meet the charge.

  He slipped sideways, boots scraping stone, Devotion rotating with his body as he guided the first strike away rather than stopping it. The demon's claws slammed into the floor, carving through enchanted stone as if it were wet clay. The impact sent fragments screaming across the chamber. Black energy crawled along the jagged edges of the gash, pulsing faintly, eating at the stone as though it were alive.

  Another strike followed immediately, then another—an unrelenting storm of violence. Each blow carried enough force to pulp a lesser man outright. Darius read them all: pattern, intent, inevitability. There was no style, no grace to the demon's assault. No doubt this demon had never encountered anything that could stand up to its strength and speed.

  Darius stepped inside one swing, twisted away from the next, and parried a third just enough to redirect it into a wall. The collision split the stone vertically, a long, ugly wound gouged deep into the structure. Again, that same black corruption clung to the damage, seeping outward like rot.

  The demon pressed him harder, faster, claws blurring, wings snapping to adjust its balance. Darius gave ground in measured steps, never panicked, never hurried. He watched for the flaw that always came with overconfidence and overextension.

  That flaw finally reared its ugly head.

  Darius pivoted on his heel and drove forward, Devotion arcing in a clean, ruthless slash aimed at the nape of the Demon's neck. The blade bit deep. There was no resistance, no desperate evasion—only the wet, yielding resistance of flesh parting beneath holy steel. Devotion tore through his neck and shoulder diagonally, embedding itself down to where, Darius assumed, its heart might be.

  The creature did not fall.

  It grinned.

  The wound knit instantly, flesh crawling and sealing around the embedded blade as if the sword were nothing more than an inconvenience. Before Darius could wrench it free, a clawed hand closed around the flat of Devotion. The demon's other hand snapped forward, palm out.

  A glyph burned into existence in the air, far more complex than most humans could create in an instant. A violent blast of violet energy erupted outward like a detonation of compressed force. The chamber shook. Stone vaporized. Light consumed the space where Darius had been standing.

  When the energy dissipated, there was nothing there.

  The demon turned slowly, irritation creeping into its expression.

  Darius stood behind him.

  Part of his armor near the shoulder was gone, sheared away as if erased, the metal edges glowing faintly from the residual energy. He remained otherwise untouched. Devotion still protruded from the demon's neck, its glow undimmed.

  The demon frowned.

  "A swordsman who abandons his weapon is nothing."

  The words were barely finished before Darius moved.

  "Magic."

  The single word carried with it a smile edged with teeth.

  "What?" The Demon frowned.

  "I'm a magic swordsman… and I didn't abandon it. Devotion... Blaze!"

  Devotion answered his call.

  The blade ignited.

  White fire roared to life along the length of the sword, swallowing the demon's upper body in searing radiance. The flames were not wild—they were focused, disciplined, burning with purpose rather than chaos. The demon screamed as the fire consumed it, its regeneration stuttering under the assault. Flesh blackened. Smoke poured from its body in choking waves.

  Snarling through the pain, the demon seized the blade with both hands and tore it free from its body. The motion ripped away chunks of still-burning flesh, which fell to the floor and hissed as the white fire devoured them completely. With a furious roar, it hurled Devotion across the chamber.

  The sword twisted in midair.

  It reversed course like a living thing and slammed back into Darius's waiting hand, the flames guttering down to a steady, lethal glow.

  The demon staggered, chest heaving. The white fire still clung to it, but dark energy surged up from beneath, smothering the flames. The burns did not heal at the speed that Darius had become used to seeing. They receded slowly, the healing struggled, as if fighting against something that could not be seen. The healing stopped, leaving blackened flesh that refused to fully heal. The demon tore away at those pieces of flesh, throwing them to the ground. These new wounds instantly healed, restoring his pristine skin.

  The demon exhaled sharply, eyes locked on Darius.

  "It seems the Flames of Devotion are quite effective on you."

  The words carried a dry humor that felt almost out of place amid the ruin.

  The demon snarled. "Of course it is, you ignorant human. None can resist the flames of a dragon."

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  For the briefest moment, Darius's eyes widened.

  Then his grip tightened.

  "Thanks for the information."

  The demon laughed—a deep, guttural sound that echoed through the damaged chamber. "And thank you, human… for waking me up. It's clear the princess favors you for more than just your pretty face."

  The air changed.

  "Allow me to grant you your due respect."

  Markings began to crawl across the demon's skin, glowing lines etching themselves into muscle and bone like brands pressed by an unseen hand. Its posture shifted, its spine elongating, shoulders broadening as its form grew heavier and denser. Claws lengthened. Teeth sharpened. Something ancient and feral surfaced beneath the veneer of arrogance.

  ******

  Lucen never stopped moving.

  Lightning wrapped his body in a blinding gold and white. Every time he moved, the air announced his motion. Thunder snapping in his wake. To the demon facing him, Lucen was nothing but violent flashes—one instant empty space, the next a blow already landing.

  The first strike snapped the demon's head sideways.

  The sound echoed like a cracked bell, lightning scorching the demon's face where Lucen's fist had connected. Before it could recover, another flash detonated beside it. Then another. And another.

  Lucen laughed as he attacked.

  He struck from every angle, fists and feet blurring into streaks of light. The demon barely managed to raise an arm before another impact sent it reeling. Stone shattered beneath its heels.

  "Are all demons this slow?" Lucen mocked, his voice echoing strangely amid the thunder, "Or are you just weak?"

  The demon barely had time to snarl before another blow smashed into its ribs. Then its temple. Then the side of its neck. Lucen's laughter filled the chamber, sharp and unrestrained, riding the crackle of lightning like a war cry.

  "I don't get what the big deal is with you demons," he continued, already moving again. "Your presence seems scarier than your ability."

  He surged forward in a brilliant flash, lightning flaring brighter as he committed to the next assault.

  The demon's eyes widened. Not in panic. In focus. Its eyes perfectly tracked Lucen's every movement. Lucen's breath caught in his throat, but he recovered quickly.

  Lucen vanished in a burst of light and reappeared at the demon's flank, fist already driving forward—but this time, his strike didn't land.

  An open palm caught it.

  The impact boomed through the chamber, lightning exploding outward as Lucen's momentum slammed into an unmoving wall of force. Lucen frowned, surprise flickering across his face for the briefest instant.

  He did not let the surprise settle. He attacked again and again.

  A rapid series of blows followed, lightning flaring violently with each impact—but the demon blocked them all. Hands moved with sudden precision, parrying strikes that moments ago had seemed impossible to follow. The rhythm shifted. The exchange tightened. The lightning arching off Lucen still licked the demon's flesh, but as soon as the burn settled, the demon was already healing.

  On Lucen's final attack in the sequence, the demon stepped inside the strike and countered.

  A fist slammed into Lucen's chin. Lucen tilted his head to absorb the blow that would have separated a lesser man's head from his shoulders.

  The blow sent him skidding across the stone, lightning sputtering as he tumbled. He rolled, caught himself, and sprang back to his feet just in time to see the demon already upon him. Wings flared wide as it brought its arm down in a brutal chopping strike.

  Lucen twisted away at the last second.

  The impact struck the floor where he had been, detonating into a crater that rippled outward through the stone. Shards flew. The chamber groaned under the force.

  The demon straightened, calmly cracking its neck as if loosening tension. It adjusted its clothing with deliberate care, eyes never leaving Lucen.

  "I'll admit," it said, voice smooth and controlled, "you humans have gotten stronger than you were during the Demon War. Impressive."

  Lucen scowled.

  "You're fast," the demon continued, circling him now, "for a human. You're about as fast as my brother. But just like my brother… your attacks are undisciplined. Predictable."

  It smirked.

  "A mage playing at hand-to-hand combat. Ridiculous. If you have nothing more to show me, then—"

  The demon blinked.

  Lucen was gone.

  A chill ran down the demon's spine. Instinct screamed, and it leaned back just as a golden gauntlet tore through the space where its face had been. Lightning roared upward, burning a jagged hole into the ceiling as thunder cracked violently overhead.

  "Fast... faster than before," the demon remarked, genuine surprise cutting through its voice.

  Lucen was already moving again.

  He struck in a renewed storm, but this time something was different. Golden gauntlets now encased his hands, lightning etched into their surface. Sigils glowing across its surface as if they were breathing. Matching greaves covered his legs; the power around was tighter, sharper, more refined.

  His blows were no longer wild.

  They were precise, deliberate.

  Each strike landed where it needed to, cutting angles, breaking rhythm, forcing the demon into a defensive posture. The two collided in a furious exchange, fists and claws clashing amid thunder and sparks. Stone cracked beneath their feet as they fought in place, power slamming into power in rapid succession.

  Then—suddenly—Lucen slowed.

  The change was subtle but catastrophic.

  The demon overcommitted, its block sweeping too far, its timing off by a fraction. Its balance was ever so slightly compromised. That was all Lucen needed. He surged forward, lightning roaring as he unleashed a devastating barrage of strikes, each one landing cleanly.

  The final blow was a palm strike.

  It hit squarely in the demon's chest. A surge of lightning exploded forward, as Lucen tried to burn a hole through the demon's chest.

  The impact hurled it across the chamber and into a wall with bone-crushing force. Stone exploded outward as the demon vanished into the rubble.

  Lucen exhaled slowly and smashed his gauntlets together, lightning snapping violently between them.

  "I know how to fight," he said with a smirk. "I train every day. Just never met anyone who could keep up long enough for me to need to. At least not anyone I want to fight."

  The rubble shifted.

  The demon rose from the debris, laughing. The sound filled the chamber, deep and resonant, carrying no trace of pain. Where the hole in his chest should have been was just a charred mark that was already healing.

  "Tough bastard," Lucen grumbled.

  "Humans," it said, brushing dust from its shoulder, "are certainly interesting. During the Demon War… you would have been a high-value target. Someone we would waste as many resources as needed to kill."

  "Thanks for the compliment."

  The demon's smile sharpened.

  "Don't get too excited. All I'm saying is you're something annoying. Something that, if it were in my domain. I would have been forced to deal with myself. Seems not much has changed."

  The markings on his body began glowing faintly as his form shifted. The muscle bulged. Bone reshaped. Wings stretched wider as its silhouette warped into something more monstrous, more primal.

  Lucen's grin faded just slightly as he tightened his stance.

  The real fight was about to begin.