Carl watched, confused. The fire was bright, but it didn't have the "weight" of demonic energy. The Antenora walked straight through the flames as if they were a summer breeze. The fire splashed off its chest like water.
The stranger dodged a heavy overhead swing that shattered the stone floor where he had been standing. He looked exhausted. Carl could see the faint, oily red mist clinging to the man's skin—the Red Orbs from the lesser demons he'd managed to kill earlier had merged with him. But Carl could tell by the man's clumsy, strained movements that he had no idea how to use that heat. He was a mortal fighting at a fraction of his potential against enemies that ignored his world's rules.
Carl stepped out from the shadows, drawing the Vesper.
"Step back, old man," Carl called out, his voice flat. "That toothpick isn't going to do anything to these things."
The white-haired man glanced at him, his eyes widening at Carl's strange charcoal coat and the heavy, mechanical look of the handgun. "Get out of here! This isn't a place for someone without a blade."
"I have a blade," Carl replied, holstering the Vesper and drawing his jagged short sword. "Mine just happens to actually work."
He didn't use any fancy hand gestures or "signs." Carl simply 'pushed' the heat of his stored Red Orbs into the demonic bone-wrapped hilt. The blade pulsed with a dark, hungry violet light.
One of the Antenoras turned toward Carl and charged, its cleaver dragging on the ground and throwing sparks. Carl didn't dodge. He moved forward in a blur of speed, his [Demonic Internalization] allowing his muscles to snap with explosive force.
He swung.
The jagged blade didn't spark; it bit deep. It carved through the Antenora's shoulder and chest, severing the demonic core in a single, fluid motion. The brute collapsed, dissolving into a massive cluster of Red Orbs that flew straight into Carl's chest.
[Style Rank: B - Badass]
[Target Neutralized: +20 System Points]
The white-haired man stood frozen for a second, watching the ash of the demon settle. He looked at his own silver sword, then at Carl's jagged, ugly blade. "That... wasn't magic. And that sword isn't silver."
"It's demonic material," Carl said, not taking his eyes off the remaining two demons. "A conductor. Your metal is just a toy to them."
The man's grip tightened on his sword. He could feel the strange 'heat' in his own veins pulsing in time with Carl's movements. He looked at Carl with a mixture of suspicion and wary respect. "I've never seen a weapon like that. Or a man who moves like you."
"Get used to it," Carl muttered. "The world is changing. Now stay out of my way; I have points to grind."
The ground beneath them shuddered. A sound like grinding tectonic plates echoed from the dark throat of the lower tunnels. The two remaining Antenoras, sensing a superior presence, scrambled backward into the shadows, their twitchy aggression replaced by primal fear.
"Something big is coming," the white-haired man said, his hand reaching for a small vial on his belt. He looked at Carl, his cat-eyes sharp. "If you've any sense, you'll run."
"Sense doesn't pay the bills," Carl replied, his grip tightening on the bone-wrapped hilt.
From the darkness emerged a Phantom Chevalier. It was a massive, spectral knight fused into a suit of scorched, obsidian armor. It didn't walk; it floated inches above the ground, trailing a cape of purple flame. In its right hand, it dragged a lance made of solid demonic bone that shrieked as it scraped against the stone.
[Boss Encounter: The Obsidian Sentinel]
[Reward: 100 System Points | High-Tier Red Orbs]
The Sentinel lunged, the lance moving with the speed of a falling star. The white-haired stranger threw himself into a roll, his movements aided by the 'heat' of the Orbs in his system, but he was still a hair too slow. The shockwave of the lance striking the ground sent him skidding across the cavern floor.
Carl, however, intercepted the second strike. He didn't just parry; he used the [Demonic Internalization] to plant his feet, his hybrid strength allowing him to meet the lance head-on. The impact sparked a violent burst of crimson and purple energy.
The stranger scrambled up, surprised. He didn't try to strike the armor; instead, he used his fire-casting trick on the ground beneath the Sentinel to create a distraction of smoke.
It was the opening Carl needed. He holstered his sword and drew the Vesper.
BANG. BANG. BANG.
Three silver-jacketed rounds slammed into the joints of the Sentinel's armor. The demonic metal hissed and buckled. As the boss recoiled, Carl leaped, his body feeling weightless as he performed a mid-air spin, driving his jagged blade deep into the visor of the spectral knight.
The Sentinel let out a hollow scream and shattered into a torrential flood of Red Orbs and high-tier materials.
[Style Rank: S - Savage!]
[+100 System Points Awarded]
Carl landed softly as the massive wave of Orbs merged with his soul. Beside the dissipating armor lay a jagged, pulsing shard of ore. It was deep violet, almost black, and it beat with a slow, rhythmic light like a dying heart.
The white-haired man approached, but he stopped five paces away. He hissed, his hand flying to a silver medallion on his neck that was vibrating violently. "Stay back from that thing," he warned, his voice low. "I've seen a lot of foul magic, but that... it's pure corruption. It's enough to make a man lose his mind just looking at it."
Carl walked right up to it. To him, the ore didn't feel ominous. It felt refreshing. It felt like a cool breeze on a humid day. The demonic energy radiating from it called to the blood in his veins, harmonizing with his own hybrid frequency.
"To you, maybe," Carl said, reaching down and picking up the stone. The silver eye on his Greed pouch blinked rapidly as it swallowed the rare material. "To me, it feels like a new beginning."
He turned to the stranger, who was looking at him as if he were a new species of monster. "You're still alive. That's more than most could say after a fight like that."
"I have a name," the man said, sheathing his silver sword but keeping his hand near the hilt. "Geralt of Rivia. And I have a feeling you're going to be a problem for a lot of people."
"Carl," he replied, already feeling the System pulse with the new points. "And as long as the demons keep coming, I'm the only one who can solve the problem."