Rex took a deep breath, brushing blood from his shoulder. The crimson glow of the dungeon washed over his face, and shadows moved with every step he took. The Reaper waited silently, like death itself.
"There's no turning back now," Rex muttered to himself. He gripped his sword with both hands. Aura waves cracked the stone floor and shredded the shadows — but it was still not enough to destroy them.
The shadow knights attacked first. Black-armored, razor-sharp blades, movements deadly and precise. Rex tried to face them one by one, but their numbers were overwhelming. One strike sliced his shoulder, another grazed his leg.
But he did not falter. He unleashed the Predatory Flame technique: his sword blazed, sending waves of fire that consumed the shadows. Three knights were erased at once… but more appeared.
The Reaper moved silently, closing in. Each step shook the ground, the pressure of its aura constricting Rex's chest. Rex paused, gathered his breath, and counterattacked. Sword clashed with scythe, sparks flying like lightning. The Reaper didn't flinch. Each strike tested Rex, merciless and precise.
Suddenly, the Reaper swung its scythe in a lightning strike. Rex reflexively pulled back, but a cut grazed his back. His knees buckled. Blood continued to flow.
But one thought consumed him: revenge for his friends.
Rex steadied himself and planned a new move. He intensified his aura, his sword glowing with a mix of fire and cold blue light. His eyes hardened, his breath sharp and steady. He rushed at the Reaper, sliding under the scythe in a swift strike, landing a glancing blow.
The Reaper stepped back — just slightly. Around him, the shadow knights continued their relentless assault, their numbers seemingly endless. Each one demanded his energy, his focus, his life.
Rex's eyes burned with determination. His resolve peaked.
There was only one goal: survive and gradually wear down his enemy.
Amid crimson light, blood, and shadows, Rex's battle was far from over.