The night was still high, and the starless sky extended over the Dark City like a shroud.
The absence of luminaries in the celestial vault created a paradoxical feeling that Zachary had only recently begun to notice; despite its vastness, the darkness felt oppressive and suffocating. With a sigh, he turned his gaze to the ruins below.
He was perched high in the bell tower, his back resting against the stone arc. One arm rested on his knee while the other leg dangled carelessly over the edge. He wouldn't be able to hunt until Pepe Silvia finished healing in his Soul Sea, leaving him with a few hours to kill.
To be honest, he was thankful for the reprieve.
Having a brief rest would certainly come in handy. Despite his personal fatigue, the ruins didn't wait for him. Now that a few monsters—including a Fallen creature—had been erased from the board, the other inhabitants were busy fighting over the vacant territory. Zachary listened closely, his enhanced senses picking up the grisly details of the urban ecosystem.
Amidst the guttural roars and the sound of breaking stone, he heard the distant ring of metal on metal. Likely a stray creature had found its way to the Outer Settlement. He shook his head; Nephis and her followers surely had it under control. He didn't need to carry their burdens anymore.
Closing his eyes, he filtered the noise until only one sound remained: the waves crashing against the city walls.
If he didn't know what lived in those depths, Zachary might have appreciated the relaxing rhythm. He allowed himself a calm breath, letting the sound evoke memories of beach trips with family and friends from a life that felt like a dream. He basked in the warmth of those faces one last time before returning to the present with a sigh.
This was a luxury he wouldn't be able to afford often. He had to plan. But to plan for the future, he first had to accept the failures of the past.
"I really have been neglecting my swordsmanship," Zachary muttered, his voice neutral in the wind.
Quick flashes began appearing in his mind—reminiscences of his most recent battles. The frenetic fight against the Awakened Devil hadn't allowed him to focus on the sword; instead, the battle had been won through quick planning and precise improvisation. Cinder Eyes had been the highlight of the clash, allowing him to perceive the battlefield in detail and move through it with Balance Control.
His hunts in the Dark City with the cohort were curious to a certain extent. Despite being at the center of the conflicts, he rarely participated physically. His focus had been on dodging, avoiding attacks, and minimizing injuries. He never took a fighting role within the cohort's formation.
Even before arriving at the Dark City.
Although calling it a fight would be a stretch, his brief but intense clash with the Soul Devourer pushed him to his limits. In it, Zachary further deepened his Aspect Ability to influence his Mind. And just before that—his fight against the Carapace Praetor.
Zachary briefly touched the spot on his stomach where the scythe had impaled him. The phantom pain appeared for only a second, yet it still sent a chill down his spine. The fight with the Demon had been hard-won. Now that he remembered it, the way he had moved with Ender's Solace—parrying, letting attacks glide over the blade's edge—it felt like it might have revealed something more.
But at the time, his focus had been on staying alive and digesting his Enlightenment.
"No, there was one more..." he said suddenly, his voice calm.
His clash against Nephis at the end of the Ashen Barrow.
Zachary didn't like to call it a fight, considering that he had been at the edge of his mind. He had been trying to withstand Nephis's onslaught more than actually fighting her. Under those circumstances, it was clear that his swordsmanship had fallen short against such an overwhelming foe.
Even more so because his greatest strength had been turned against him...
'She had really been expecting a fight against me all this time, hadn't she?' he thought, clicking his tongue. Zachary didn't know how to feel about that realization.
"What's even the deal with her?" he mused aloud, a sudden frown creasing his face.
She had developed a technique specifically to fight him, as if she had been expecting a betrayal all along. And yet, Nephis had trusted him with the names of her greatest foes—the leads to her objective.
During their last conversation, she had expressed open disgust at how he lacked any sense of belonging... and yet she had gone to such lengths to make him stay.
Zachary lingered on the thought for a few seconds before surrendering with a tired sigh. He ruffled his hair in weary annoyance, his frown easing.
'I tell you, man. No matter the time, the world, or even the reality—women still find a way to keep you on your toes.' He tried to chuckle, but it didn't come out honestly.
Zachary passed a hand over his head as he sighed. "I can worry about her later. One thing is painfully clear: I need to find a way to practice my swordsmanship in the time I have."
He could practice through the motions and katas he'd learned from Eddard, or he could try to replicate the moves he had seen Nephis perform. But that would take an immense amount of time, and Zachary wasn't sure if his improvement would be certain that way.
Another option was to practice while hunting monsters, but he was acutely aware that he shouldn't bite off more than he could chew. With his Attribute, he would need to be extra careful during his hunts, focusing on efficiency and lethality instead of taking his time to practice.
'Actually, the reason I improved so fast was thanks to my sparrings with Nephis. A serious clash in a controlled environment,' Zachary thought with a shake of his head. 'But now I don't have a sparring partner—'
He suddenly stood up, a flash of recognition lighting up his eyes. 'Wait a minute! Hunting monsters and sparring... I think I can hit two birds with one stone.'
But Zachary quickly sobered, shaking his head seriously. 'Impossible... Such a risky idea is basically suicide.' He was about to throw the idea away when another thought followed.
'But if I want to advance, I cannot grow comfortable. I need to sit on the edge,' Zachary said, remembering his realization regarding the nature of his Attribute. 'This might also be a way to further polish Flow Control...'
Unconsciously, Zachary began biting his thumb as his foot tapped nervously against the tower's stone. "I won't be jumping straight into the action, though... Yes, I have to make preparations before I try anything. It's always better to perform prepared."
With those words, he left the bell tower and returned to his room with careful steps.
Between the sacred walls and the shadows of the Priestess's quarters, Zachary sat in the middle of the room cross-legged, his chin resting in his hand. His eyes were fixed on a corner in deep concentration, but his Mind remained elsewhere, focused on building a foundation for his plan. An hour passed like that; he remained unmoving, not a single sound or minute tremor escaping him.
Finally, with his focus returning to the present, he summoned the Ordinary Rope. The small length of unassuming cord appeared on his palm. Without a word, Zachary touched one end to his wrist, and the moment it made contact, the rope coiled tightly around it.
He gave a few tugs and, with a satisfied nod, began pulling the rope, making it longer and longer. But once it reached the meter mark, the rope's strings began snapping tiredly.
Zachary clicked his tongue loudly at this. "The shorter it is, the stronger it becomes... so that means the longer it becomes, the weaker it is. What a fucking useless Memory. What's even the use of this?" he said with exasperation.
Dismissing the Memory, he returned to his pensive posture. A few minutes later, his eyebrow raised in a thoughtful expression, and without missing a second, Zachary stood up and walked to the closet in the corner.
He opened the doors and was welcomed by a myriad of different clothes—women's clothes. His eye twitched slightly, but with a sigh, he picked one of the first garments he saw. It was a complicated dress, regal in its decorations yet quite modest in design. Zachary felt the material with his fingers, nodding with a satisfied smile before tearing it apart.
The ripping sound echoed loudly in the silent chamber as he systematically destroyed the dress. Finally, with a collection of cloth strips, Zachary began braiding the pieces together carefully and meticulously, stretching and tightening them until he had obtained a good length of rope.
'I must say, Teacher Julius truly is a lifesaver,' Zachary thanked inwardly.
With his material finally ready, he wanted nothing more than to begin his operation immediately. But regretfully, his Echo hadn't finished healing, and by the time he'd finished in the room, he could feel that dawn was approaching.
So, while waiting for night to fall again, he would continue practicing Flow Control.
It took a few seconds before the Core took form in his heart, but Zachary wasn't demoralized by the delay. With each practice, the formation became faster, and he was able to maintain it longer. With a deep breath, he began moving a small amount of essence through the aorta.
From what little he knew of medicine and anatomy, he was aware that there were two other major arteries branching from the heart: the pulmonary and coronary arteries. But contrary to the aorta, which was quite simple in its purpose of sending blood to every part of the body, the remaining two were more complex in purpose—reoxygenating the blood in the lungs and irrigating the heart respectively.
He could feel there was a way to use his essence to complement these functions, but that would prove time-consuming and complex. For now, he focused on sending essence to every corner of his body, reaching farther places while maintaining the pressure of the Core.
'The circulatory system is basically a circuit,' Zachary thought with a frown, pearls of sweat appearing on his forehead. 'I'm able to send essence through the arteries along with the blood flow, but my blood returns to the heart through the veins...'
A daring idea began taking form. 'So wouldn't that mean I can continue following the blood flow and return the essence back to the Core?'
This had been one of the flaws he first noticed: how using Flow Control to reinforce an isolated part of his body was like using the dull side of a sword. His blood continuously flowed through every corner of his body, so his essence should be able to do the same.
'But if it returns to the Core... wouldn't that mean I could enhance my body continuously without essence loss?' The thought brought a rising smile that he quickly suppressed with a frown.
It sounded impossible, almost contradictory. It was a well-established fact that Soul Essence was a finite resource, requiring careful use and a tactical mind. That was why Awakened battles were so strategic, and why a Divine Aspect's ability to form more Cores was such a game-changer.
But his was no normal method of essence control. It was an unorthodox one, and its limits had not been clearly set.
"There's no harm in trying..." Zachary said finally, increasing his focus. He continued practicing, pushing the essence through the body, until finally, night arrived.
Pepe Silvia was finally fully healed and ready for his next shift.
He didn't wait any longer. Grabbing his materials, he exited the Cathedral and began moving toward the ruins. Summoning his loyal intern, Zachary began searching for the perfect spot to lay his preparations.
Pepe Silvia treaded ahead, clearing the way of any stray Nightmare Creatures. Through his enhanced eyesight, Zachary maintained a strict watch over the Echo, calling him back to his Soul Sea whenever it seemed he was on the verge of injury. Through this continuous cycle of summoning and unsummoning, they moved carefully through the ruins until, finally, Zachary found what he was looking for.
Far from the Cathedral, almost touching the western wall, he found a secluded alley. It was well-hidden between two blackened structures—a three-story residential building and a broken skeleton of a house. A tall, scorched wall stood nearby, seemingly a second away from crumbling if not for a frail, burned pillar that maintained the structure in an impossible display of balance.
'Gotcha,' Zachary thought, a serious gleam in his eyes as he began his work.
Tying the makeshift rope tightly around the base of the pillar, he began climbing the residential building with the other end of the cord between his teeth. Once at the top, he secured his position. With a flurry of sparks, Antlered Wrath appeared in his hand. Without missing a moment, he began flowing essence into his shoulder, charging the hammer with increased power.
Everything was ready.
Calming a shaky breath, Zachary looked toward a specific sector of the Dark City he had noted during his time with the cohort. He began jumping through the buildings, following the path Pepe Silvia had already cleared. Minutes later, he arrived.
A burned square extended beneath him. Hidden behind a broken parapet, he studied the ground. Countless creatures lay dead, their gruesome wounds telling the story of their demise. They had perished in a clash of monsters, but what chilled Zachary's heart wasn't the quantity of the dead—it was the nature of the wounds. They were precise, methodical, and entirely un-bestial.
Looking ahead with calm focus, Zachary's crimson eyes finally found the authors of the carnage. A group of five dark statues. They would have passed for gothic decorations of the square if not for the way they were moving, efficiently severing the head of a creature Zachary sensed was a Fallen rank.
The Stone Saints.
This was the core of his plan. These stone revenants were the only targets that merged all of his objectives: hunting, and practicing his swordsmanship against an overwhelming foe.
'It might actually be three objectives...' Zachary dared to consider. These monsters were strong enough to clash with Fallen creatures and, according to what Lester had told him, they had once pushed Gemma himself to the brink. A clash with them could force his Flow Control to reach mastery through sheer necessity.
Zachary immediately shook his head, burying the thought. He wanted to avoid a desperate situation. He was already making massive leaps in his soul mastery, and he was in no position to risk a grave injury. Isolated as he was, three months would pass in the blink of an eye; a week spent healing would be a week of wasted potential.
His plan was designed to allow a measured amount of danger—just enough to spark improvement. If things spiraled into a "do-or-die" push, it meant the plan had failed. He had too much respect for the Stone Saints and what they were capable of.
"Let's play it safe for now," Zachary whispered, steadying his heart. "There's no need to act unwisely."
With that, he summoned his Echo into the square below. He commanded Pepe Silvia to exit the shadows and walk into the open. The statues noticed the movement immediately, but they offered little reaction—to them, it was just another Awakened Beast.
That changed the moment the Echo got close enough for them to detect the coating.
The [Blasphemer] aura.
The shift in the Saints was instantaneous. The chase began without warning. Commanding the Echo to retreat toward the trapped alley, Zachary began leaping across the rooftops, keeping a close watch on his intern's flight.
Thankfully, if Pepe Silvia was nothing else, he was fast. He reached the building before them and was finally in position. With measured breaths, he kept watch of the pursuit, and as they drew close, Zachary grabbed the end of the makeshift rope.
He waited.
Finally, they entered the alley. Clenching his teeth, Zachary pulled the rope with all his strength. It groaned, threatening to break under the weight of the pillar, but thankfully it held. The pillar, however, did not. It collapsed under the strain, finally giving rest to the burned wall it had supported for so long. Pepe Silvia passed under the falling stones just in time, followed by the lead Stone Saints. Finally, amidst rubble, rocks, and soot, the wall collapsed.
Leaving only a single Stone Saint behind.
The statues turned immediately, aware that one of their number had been cut off, but in a daring display of loyalty, the Carapace Echo attacked with its pincers. The Stone Saints immediately returned their attention to the daring Blasphemer before them, and Pepe Silvia began running again, drawing the statues away in his wake.
"It's time..." Zachary said, steeling his heart.
He gripped the charged warhammer and, looking down at the stray monster, he jumped.
The Stone Saint detected the Blasphemer above it instantly. With sharp efficiency, it raised its shielded arm to intercept the attack. But it was too late. The charged Memory, combined with the crushing momentum of the fall, connected with the stone shoulder. A sharp bang resounded through the alley.
The shielded arm fell to the ground with a cold crack. Completely severed.
"Hello there," Zachary said, his voice mocking despite the adrenaline.
He immediately took a step back, unsummoning Antlered Wrath. In its place, Ender's Solace appeared in his hand, the dark edge of the blade shimmering with essence. He dropped into a defensive position, expecting the frenzied offensive of a monster driven mad by the [Blasphemer] influence.
But it never came.
In front of him, the Stone Saint remained unmoving. Its dark, complicated armor shone ominously even under the starless sky of the Forgotten Shore. After a few seconds, the Saint moved. Slowly, it raised its remaining arm and brought it to its side, catching the falling crimson dust raining from its severed shoulder. It looked down, watching as the dust escaped between its fingers.
Finally, it turned.
Zachary's crimson eyes met the burning rubies shining within the dark helmet. And he paled.
{!_^_^_!}
Danger Sense screamed in his head—sharp, hurried, and frantic. His feet, his entire being, begged him to run. His heart stuttered under that crimson gaze. Without even registering the action, Zachary backed away in a sharp, reflexive step. It was sheer instinct—the primal need to put distance between himself and a predator—but beneath the warning, his cold judgment remained.
No matter how much he tried to escape, it would be futile.
There was clearly something different about the Stone Saint before him. Its unmoving ruby eyes locked him in place, and Cinder Eyes stared back into the darkness. There was clear sentience behind those burning jewels, despite the Corruption encroaching upon its soul.
It had clearly reacted to the [Blasphemer] attribute; Zachary could feel it deep in his bones. And yet, contrary to any other creature he had encountered, the stone revenant didn't lose itself to a mindless frenzy. It didn't abandon its reason to slaughter the blasphemous existence before it.
And yet, it hated the Blasphemer with all its stone heart.
The hostility flowing from the statue came in thick, suffocating waves, making the air feel like tar—clinging to his skin in an uncomfortable, drowning weight. Little by little, a darker shade joined that hostility. Zachary recognized it instantly.
Malice.
"This is dangerous..." Zachary gulped, his back becoming drenched in cold sweat.
His greatest advantage under the [Blasphemer] attribute was that monsters typically lost all rationality in their pursuit. Now, the Stone Saint showed terrifying clarity.
The dark statue slowly raised its remaining arm, pointing the tip of its long sword directly at him. There was unmistakable purpose beneath the hostility. Under the strain of the danger, Cinder Eyes broadened its receptors, detecting clear intent: scorn, hate, and a burning, ancient pride.
The Stone Saint's mission was clear.
In front of it stood a Fool who dared to proclaim his Name equal to the Heavens. And as a proud member of the Stone Legion, it was his duty to cull the life of the Blasphemer who dared to proclaim himself equal to its Father.
"I might have made a mistake," Zachary cursed under his breath.
Then, everything exploded into motion.
With impossible speed, the Stone Saint was already over him. Zachary's vision narrowed as Cinder Eyes tracked the sword's path. It was too heavy to parry, too fast to simply step back. He dropped, the wind of the blade whistling inches above his head, but the Stone Wraith followed. A crushing shoulder found his barely covered side.
At the last moment, Zachary reinforced his ribs with a surge of essence. And yet, it still felt like being hit by a battering ram.
He was sent stumbling back. His arm groaned under the pressure, but fortunately, it held. The Stone Saint was over him again; the dashing speed combined with its overwhelming weight was a mortal combo. He couldn't allow himself to be hit directly.
But Zachary hadn't considered one fatal flaw in his preparation. He had taken the Saint's shield so his less experienced attacks could hit their mark more easily. Now, that plan was working against him. Without a way to defend itself, the stone statue's only focus was a pure, unrelenting offensive.
The Saint lunged again. With clenched teeth, Zachary stepped in, Ender's Solace thrusting with sharp precision. Danger Sense flared a warning from the side—it was already too late to back away. Zachary committed to the attack, his blade striking the dark armor with a spark before he rolled forward. The warning remained; the Stone Saint followed him through the roll, its blade ghosting behind him.
Zachary stood up quickly, dodging a second and third slash. They were relentless. Even with only one arm, the statue was a master of its craft, using the momentum of the longsword to link slash after slash in a grinder of death and stone. Worse of all... the enhanced edge of Ender's Solace, further reinforced by essence, was useless against the stone armament.
The blade had only managed to scratch and chip the armor.
'I'll aim for the gaps,' Zachary thought hurriedly, his boots skidding as he backed through the alley.
Biting his lip and pushing Cinder Eyes to the limit, he began focusing on the Attack Lines. He took another step forward. A sideway slash came—powerful, unstoppable. Zachary didn't attempt to stop it. Bracing the flat of his blade against his forearm, he caught the momentum of the attack and propelled himself toward the Stone Saint's blind spot—the broken side.
The stone wraith was a Battle Master in every sense of the word, already adapting its style to leverage its missing limb, but it was also a fighter to the core. And as such, it was a creature of habit. Taking advantage of the opening, Zachary aimed for the gap in the stone neck. The sharp thrust of the Swift Sword focused all his momentum into a single point.
Clang!
The Saint didn't flinch. It tilted its head with a mechanical snap, catching the dark blade on its gorget. Before Zachary could recover, the monster's remaining fist slammed into his chest.
Zachary felt his ribs groan under the impact. He was sent flying back, his shoes skidding across the rubble. If not for the essence reinforcing his bones, his sternum would have collapsed.
Without giving him a chance to breathe, it attacked again. The chain of strikes was never-ending and completely deadly. The weight of each blow shook his bones, and worse, Ender's Solace was vibrating with a dangerous resonance. No matter how potent the edge, it still had only the durability of an Awakened weapon; one bad clash and his companion would meet its end.
'This cannot continue,' Zachary thought, side-stepping a vertical cleave and aiming for the Saint's uncovered wrist.
But with a lightning-fast flick of the wrist, the statue parried the attack with the pommel of its sword, leaving Zachary wide open.
The stone edge bit into his side. At the last moment, Zachary twisted his body, preventing his guts from being spilled. He made a desperate roll, leaving a trail of crimson on the alley floor as he barely put distance between them. Without a second to even acknowledge the work of Blood Weave, the fight continued.
Zachary focused on the Core in his heart.
During the fight, he had focused on using his essence only to reinforce his durability; now, it was time to enhance his power. Sending a surge of essence to his legs, Zachary was the one to close the distance this time. The Stone Saint wasn't surprised, meeting his arrival with a powerful vertical slash.
It was uncomfortable. Zachary had grown used to the [120%] potency provided by Unity, but now, being able to pull even more power through the Core threw him off balance. Only for an instant. Forcing his mind to adapt to the new potency, his consciousness split—one half holding the heart-Core stable, the other calculating the physics of the Gentle Sword.
As the longsword descended, Zachary didn't retreat. He stepped in.
He met the flat of the giant blade with the edge of Ender's Solace, not to stop it, but to guide it. Using the Saint's own monstrous strength, he redirected the strike into the ground beside him. The alley shook as the greatsword buried itself a foot deep into the stone.
'Now!'
Zachary's eyes glowed a murderous crimson. He stepped onto the flat of the buried longsword and leaped, his knee connecting with the Saint's visor with a sound like a hammer hitting a mountain.
The Saint stumbled back a single step, its ruby eyes flickering with cold, renewed hatred. It ripped its sword from the ground with a shower of sparks and took a low, wide stance.
Zachary breathed heavily, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth as he matched the stance. They moved in unison.
He was still unable to send essence to every corner of his body simultaneously, but by methodically reinforcing his legs and arms at the exact moment of impact, he was beginning to meet the Stone Saint slash for slash. And yet, just as it had been with Nephis, he was still being pushed back by sheer, superior swordsmanship.
Gliding under a diagonal slash, Zachary was a fraction of a second late to block a follow-up chain attack, barely raising his sword in time. The force shoved him back until he felt his spine hit the cold, scorched stone of the residential building.
He was out of room.
The Stone Saint saw the opening. Its ruby eyes flared as it stepped in for the killing blow, the massive blade whistling through the air in a horizontal decapitation strike. Zachary didn't dodge left or right; he dropped flat against the wall.
CRACK.
The longsword didn't just hit the wall; it buried itself deep into the ancient, reinforced masonry. The sheer momentum of the Saint's own strength worked against it as the jagged edges of the broken stone locked the blade tight.
'Again!'
Zachary surged up from his crouch like a spring. Ender's Solace sang as he drove the dark blade into the gap under the Saint's armpit—the narrow space where the armor didn't cover. He twisted the blade with a grunt of exertion, and for the first time, he felt the resistance give way.
A spray of fine crimson dust erupted from the wound, coating Zachary's face.
The Stone Saint didn't cry out, but its reaction was violent. Instead of struggling to free its weapon, it abandoned the hilt entirely. Before Zachary could press his advantage, a stone boot—heavy as a falling star—slammed into his solar plexus.
The air left Zachary's lungs in a pained wheeze. He was launched backward, crashing through the blackened stone and deep into the darkness of the ruined building. He smashed through a wooden table and only stopped when he hit a structural pillar with a bone-jarring thud.
'Move... I have to move...'
He didn't wait for his vision to clear. He scrambled behind the thick stone pillar just as a massive, fist-shaped hole appeared in the wood where his head had been a second ago. The revenant had followed him into the house, its movements jerky and filled with a cold, predatory malice.
Without its sword, the monster was even more terrifying. It was a brawler now, using its sheer mass to demolish the interior of the room. It lunged again, but Zachary used the pillars of the ground floor like a shield, weaving between them to break the Saint's line of sight. Every time the statue swung, a pillar cracked or shattered. The ceiling groaned, dust and debris raining down on them.
Zachary waited, his heart-core pulsing frantically, recycling the essence through his battered limbs. He watched the Saint's rhythm—the way it favored its remaining arm, the way it pivoted on its heavy heels. The methodical way it moved and the precision of its punches made it a terrifying killing machine. But Zachary had already survived a brawler.
Just as the stone punch arrived, Zachary stepped forward, bringing his fist to his ear in a blocking motion. He met the strike before it could reach full extension, locking the limb in place for just a heartbeat. Making use of that momentary stall, Zachary drove his sword into the Saint's elbow, piercing the joint completely.
Leaving his sword embedded for a split second, Zachary grabbed the helmet of the statue and dragged it down, meeting it with a rising knee. A loud crunch echoed in the room. His knee throbbed with a hellish pain from the impact, but the helmet cracked. The statue recoiled a step, and Zachary used the opportunity to retrieve his sword and back away, though not before slashing another deep groove into the stone hip.
The wraith followed immediately, pushing and killing with imperative technique. But just as the Saint demolished a third pillar, the ceiling gave way. A falling beam momentarily pinned the monster's shoulder. It was a window of half a second.
Zachary didn't waste it. He stepped out from the shadows of the stairs, his eyes glowing like embers.
"My turn," he hissed.
He lunged, not with a simple strike, but with a full-body rotation. Channeling essence into his shoulders and arms, he put every bit of strength into a desperate thrust. The blade reached the stone neck, sinking in and drawing a spray of crimson dust.
Until it stopped.
A trembling, clenching stone hand curled around the dark edge of Ender's Solace. Zachary met the hateful crimson gaze for a second as he lost the contest of strength, the blade being forced out of the neck before it could finish the job.
Without a chance to retreat, the armored hand grabbed his collar. In a hateful display of power, he was hurled back through the hole he had entered, tumbling into the alley. The Stone Saint followed with measured, heavy steps, grabbing the pommel of its longsword and freeing it from the wall amidst a shower of rubble and dust.
"Fucking shit..." Zachary wheezed as he stood up, spitting blood into the dirt.
They were back at square one, yet neither was ready to finish this. Raising his sword tiredly, Zachary sighed before collecting his breath. The Core was still held high in his heart, ready to surge, but his body was reaching its limit. The Flow within him was still crude, taxing his physical form with every recycled pulse. Zachary could feel the countdown; he had exactly one enhanced attack left before his muscles would refuse to move.
He looked ahead. The Stone Saint watched him with those murderous ruby eyes, its momentum never diminishing. But as crimson dust continued to leak from its wounds, Zachary knew the truth: the proud son of Nether was also betting everything on a single, final strike.
'Bring it on, then,' Zachary chuckled through bloody lips, clenching his Soul Companion with reinvigorated power.
A second passed. As if by a silent agreement, they moved at the same time. Zachary focused everything on Cinder Eyes. His vision burned, and he felt a single crimson tear escape from the corner of his eye. Time slowed to a crawl.
He saw the longsword descending vertically—a blow meant to cleave him in two. The Attack Line told the same story. But at the final heartbeat, something else caught his attention: a slight, almost imperceptible shift in the Saint's wrist. It was a tiny adjustment in distance, but it changed the trajectory entirely.
A chill raced down his spine as the Attack Line recalculated in real-time. The Stone Saint had noticed his enhanced senses and, in a desperate bid for victory, had adapted a technique similar to Nephis's.
A direct clash would be suicide. Trying to outmatch the monster in speed or strength was a losing game. The attack was already reaching him, too fast to dodge. In that seamless, escapeless moment, Zachary found it.
Insight.
It was the stronger hand he needed to bet on. He stepped forward, moving right into the teeth of the Saint's attack. He pulled the essence from his arms and shoulders, channeling it instead into his back and hips for stability.
He focused on the line. Clashing was impossible; dodging was out of the question. So, he moved with it. Ender's Solace met the stone blade with just enough force to connect, and by shifting his posture, he became a conduit for the motion—guiding the sword back toward its original, failed trajectory.
A counter!
The true maxim of the Gentle Sword wasn't just to move attacks out of the way with finesse; it was to guide them along a path of your choosing. The stone sword ricocheted with a deafening pang, leaving the Saint completely exposed. Zachary didn't miss his window.
Using the very momentum of the counter, he spun along the path of the redirection. In a swift, fluid motion, he drove his blade into the Stone Wraith's neck, severing it completely.
[You have killed an Awakened Monster, Stone Saint.]
The contemptuous voice of the Spell announced his victory. The headless body collapsed, and Zachary nearly did the same. He forced himself to stay upright, resting a hand against the collapsed wall and catching his joyous, ragged breath.
He looked down at the stone body as it began to lose its luster. A shaky laugh escaped his lips. His body was a map of pain and his soul felt strained to the breaking point, yet his Mind remained fresh and sharp.
A single fight, and he was already improving by leaps and bounds. He still had three months. Zachary allowed a small, bloody smile to form. The future didn't look so grim anymore.
He had won.