The door creaked open without resistance. Avradren stepped through as if the Shadow Realm itself had laid the way bare for him.
Kev's grip tightened on his axe, jaw set. The Shadow Realm? Already? Avradren hadn't even fully settled into Grade 3, and yet he'd pulled off a trick like this. Kev knew what that meant—the boost from Grade 3 had to be something else. Their overall could soar past five thousand once they hit stride.
By contrast, he was capped by his new grade. Grade 2 demons maxed around 1,075 overall. He himself sat steady at 540. For Avradren to veil a room like this, he had to be climbing past 1,500 already. And the year wasn't even done. That kind of growth… remarkable.
Avradren strolled in dressed casual, dark shorts, a sweater, a cap pulled low. The smirk tugging at his lips only stoked the fire in Kev's chest.
"You were acting all tough with your bitch the other night," Avradren sneered. "Still tough now, huh, punk?"
Kev's jaw tightened. He angled his axe, its orange glow bleeding across the shadows. "Pussy, I ain't scared of you. You want some... come get some."
Avradren's grin widened. Then he was gone from where he stood, only to appear in front of Kev in a blur of motion. The clash was instant. Kev's axe cut arcs of light through the gloom, steel ringing against flesh as Avradren's bare hands met each strike with bone-shaking force.
Kev parried, deflecting blow after blow, sparks flying off the axe's edge. Avradren pressed harder, each strike a reminder of the difference in their strength. He didn't even need a weapon, his bare fists were brutal enough, hammering against Kev's guard like iron.
Kev's arms shook from the force, but his eyes burned, caught between frustration and awe. Bare hands… and he's keeping up with me? No... he's pushing me back. The thought gnawed at him, feeding the fire in his chest. He could almost taste it, that hunger to climb, to grow stronger, to close that gap and tear Avradren down.
Avradren's smirk widened with every blow, his message clear: You're not on my level.
But Kev didn't care. His blood thrummed. Violence was all he wanted.Their demon eyes flared in unison, markings spreading across their faces as the Shadow Realm shuddered with every collision.
Kev knew the Damaruks were demons of suffering and chains, their strength rooted in endurance. But when it came to pure battle, no family rivaled his. Violence itself was his domain, every flare of resistance fed him.
His demon eyes flared, locking onto Avradren's movements. With that sight fixed, Kev surged forward, no longer content to defend. He began attacking in a relentless flurry, each swing driving harder, forcing Avradren to resist or be split apart.
It worked. Avradren slipped away, weaving past the axe with practiced ease. But every dodge, every block bled resistance into the mix, and Kev's weapon drank it in, the steel humming with violent hunger. Soon, the axe became an inevitability, each swing bending closer, dragging Avradren into its path.
Kev snarled, words twisting into a guttural incantation: "Khara Thymós." The demonic spell flared, disorienting Avradren in a rush of searing force. His balance broke.
Kev seized the opening. The axe came down, splitting through flesh and bone. Avradren's jaw tore open in a spray of blood as he hit the ground hard.
"Yeah, pussy!" Kev roared, stomping down on him. He swung again, and again, the axe a storm of violence tearing through Avradren's defenses, each strike heavier, fueled by the violence around them.
The more Kev attacked, the more violent he became. Each swing of the axe landed heavier than the last, until it seemed like the lesser grade was overwhelming his senior all on his own. Sparks rained, steel howled, and Avradren's defense looked on the verge of breaking.
But to Avradren, this was only a warm-up.
His smirk twitched wider as he suddenly stopped resisting. The energy Kev's axe fed on dwindled in an instant. Then, with a burst of audacity, Avradren stepped in, placing his palm directly in the weapon's path, not to shield, but to receive.
The blade slammed down, biting into his flesh, but Avradren shoved forward with a violent surge of force. Kev staggered back, feet skidding across the floor, his axe quivering in his grip.
Avradren straightened, chest heaving, exhaling hard and fast. He bounced on his heels once, twice, rolling his shoulders loose. Any human would have been reduced to mashed potatoes under that punishment, but his boosted overall had toughened his body to withstand it.
The deep wounds Kev had carved during the exchange knit back together before his eyes, threads of demonic energy stitching torn flesh into seamless skin. Avradren's grin returned, sharper than ever.