Viper swung his blade with the force of a thunderclap, but the spider was quicker. Agile as a shadow, he slipped past the slash, though the power of it trembled in the air where the steel had cut. Landing on Viper's armored arm, the spider's hands blurred as he drew four venom-tipped darts.
Viper roared and lashed at him, but the spider launched backward, twisting midair. The darts flashed toward Viper's eyes only to be swallowed by the black smoke that seeped from his half-corrupted body. The darts clattered harmlessly to the floor.
The spider did not relent. A strand of silk snapped across the gap, fastening to the cracks in Viper's armor. With a whip of his body, he shot forward like a loosed arrow and drove his fist into Viper's gut. The blow thundered through the chamber, knocking the giant back several meters. Blood sprayed from Viper's mouth as he hit the stone, choking on iron.
Before he could rise, the spider was on him again. He leapt, muffler trailing behind, and brought his fist upward in a brutal uppercut. The strike cracked Viper's jaw, the impact echoing like a war drum. Again and again, Viper swung, but every strike was dodged, each miss answered by another punishing counter.
The spider's voice was calm, cold.
"This will be your end, creature."
His hand hardened like stone as he sprinted forward. The punch he delivered never quite touched Viper, air itself collapsed between them, carrying such force that it hurled the armored warrior across the courtyard. He smashed into the side of a crumbling building, debris raining down over his broken body.
The spider landed softly, almost graceful. He stood tall, eyes gleaming beneath his muffler.
"Call me Zaman," he said. "Zaman Zee."
The sun was descending, spilling dying light across the battlefield.
A memory stirred in Viper's mind.
He was kneeling, bowing low before a shadowed figure seated on a throne aboard a ship. Warm sunlight spilled through the window, but the master's face was hidden in shadow. Only a ring glinted in the light, a black gem burning in the gold.
"I have chosen you for this mission," the figure said, voice deep and steady. "Bring the man safely to me, Viper."
Now, sprawled in rubble, Viper's resolve hardened. He would not fail. He would not dishonor his master's command.
"Let me in," a voice whispered from the darkness within him.
As the smoke was covering his body slowly.
"I will win for you"
Viper did not hesitate.
The spider, walking away, suddenly felt a shift in the air. A pebble rolled at his feet. He turned.
Viper was gone.
In his place, a black plume of liquid smoke gathered into a human shape, writhing and terrifying.
The black shape towered before him, a human form stitched from smoke and liquid shadow. Its jagged arms stretched, dripping like tar, yet hardening into blade-edges whenever it moved. The weight of its presence pressed against the air, every breath sharp with dread.
Zaman steadied himself. He had faced monsters before, but nothing like this.
The creature lunged. Faster than before, its strike ripped the stone floor as the blade-arm cut downward. Zaman darted aside, but the force of the blow threw him off balance. The second strike came immediately, shadow fingers clamped around his chest and slammed him into the wall. Pain cracked through his ribs.
Viper's distorted voice echoed, layered with something inhuman.
"You cannot stop me, insect."
Zaman tried to counter, fists flying, but every strike dissolved uselessly into the black armor of smoke. Each attempt ended with him hurled, crushed, or pinned. Dust filled his lungs as he staggered back to his feet, battered and bleeding. For the first time, he felt the bitter edge of defeat.
But then, calmly, he reached for his muffler.
The cloth slipped away, fluttering to the ground. Six eyes opened fully, gleaming like molten amber across his face. The world slowed. The haze of smoke around Viper no longer hid his movements, every twitch, every shift, every ripple was laid bare.
"I see you now," Zaman whispered.
His hands moved, weaving threads of silk. They twisted in his grasp, hardening into slender blades. Six daggers, sharp and gleaming with unnatural light. He held them like extensions of his own hands.
The final step was silent. A whisper to the weapons.
Soul Root.
The daggers pulsed faintly, drinking in something unseen. The air itself recoiled from their presence.
Viper roared and charged, his blade sweeping in a storm of shadow. But this time Zaman was already there, eyes locked, body moving with perfect precision. He slipped past each strike, silent as a breath. A dagger slid into Viper's shoulder. Another carved through his thigh. A third sank beneath his ribs.
Each cut weakened him, not just in flesh, but in the shadow that clung to him. The black smoke shivered, faltering with every strike.
By the sixth dagger, the battlefield itself seemed to hum, threads of invisible force connecting the weapons like strands of a great web.
Zaman clenched his fist.
The daggers flared.
Viper screamed as the shadows were ripped from him, torn away piece by piece. His monstrous form collapsed, the black plume unraveling into nothingness. What remained was only the broken warrior, falling to his knees, gasping for breath.
Zaman stood over him, breath steady despite his wounds. Slowly, he pulled the muffler back over his face, hiding his eyes once more.
"I told you," his voice was quiet, final.
"This is your end."
The sun had nearly set, its last light stretching across the ruins, painting the broken battlefield in blood and shadow.
The chamber was cold, lit only by the dim glow of lanterns swaying with the tide. A warrior in black armor knelt before the throne, his forehead pressed to the floor.
"My lord," he said, voice tight. "Mazda is here. He is protecting the man."
From the shadows, the master did not stir. His figure remained veiled, but the black gem on his ring glinted faintly, alive with some inner flame.
"And Viper?" the voice came at last, smooth and unreadable.
The warrior bowed lower. "The spider from Azan's crew… killed him. And the Deens' reinforcements are on their way. We cannot hold much longer."
A long silence. Then, the master's fingers tapped once on the throne's armrest, a hollow sound that echoed like a clock's final chime.
"Fall back," he ordered. "We will not waste more pawns here."
The warrior bowed again, relief barely hidden in his voice. "As you command."
Aboard the Merchant Ship
Not far from the dark vessel, another ship rocked gently against the current. Inside its cabin, a merchant paced from wall to wall, his jeweled rings clinking with every nervous twitch of his fingers. His eyes darted to the door with each creak of the timbers.
At last, it opened. A guard entered, hauling a burned corpse and dropping it unceremoniously at the merchant's feet.
The merchant's unease broke into a grin that stretched ear to ear. He crouched, his shadow crawling across the body as he inspected it.
"You killed him?" he asked eagerly.
The guard shook his head. "No. He was fleeing when a building collapsed. Fire did the rest."
The merchant hardly listened. His hands were already searching, peeling back charred flesh until his fingers closed around something glinting. A ring. His grin widened into something wicked.
"It's him," he whispered. "At last."
He pocketed the ring, then waved his hand. "Throw the body into the sea."
The guard hesitated. "And the girl?"
The merchant's grin faltered, his gaze snapping upward. "Where is she?"
"We don't know," the guard admitted. "She was not seen with him. We searched… but nothing. The Tokham are retreating. They say the Deens' backup is already here. We had no chance to look further."
The merchant's smile thinned, but he said nothing for a long moment. At last, he rose, his robes whispering across the floor.
"So. Tokham failed to get what they came for."
The guard nodded. "I heard Mazda himself is guarding that man."
The merchant's lips curled into something that was not quite a smile. "Then call the men. We are leaving as well."
He looked once more at the ring glittering in his palm. His eyes burned with greed.
"For now.