Lane stood in the middle of the demon realm's outskirts, chest heaving with exertion. He had just slaughtered multiple drunk families with the siphoning blade, and now power coursed through him like never before. The sensation intoxicated him, electric and raw, filling every fiber of his being with energy.
"Now let's see how the Black Knight likes it when I—"
Five creatures plummeted from the sky and crashed before him with heavy thuds that shook the ground.
"This is the guy who killed you, Wolf," one of the men said, turning toward their leader.
Wolf smirked, his blade shimmering in the dim light. "Indeed. The man who thought he killed me."
Lane froze mid-step, blood running cold. Killed that guy? How could Wolf still be alive? His mind raced with possibilities, but then another thought struck him with crystalline clarity. Could Wolf be an infinite energy resource? If I just kill him multiple times, I could have so much power. The idea thrilled him, sending shivers down his spine.
He stared coldly at the group, his gaze fixating on Wolf. Every single person before him bore some type of fur covering their bodies, though their heads remained somewhat human and their frames humanoid. The sight was both fascinating and grotesque.
A man with vibrant red hair raised his blade, muscles tensing. "Come closer and you're dead," he growled, his voice rumbling like distant thunder.
Lane stepped forward without hesitation. Instantly, the red-haired man rushed at him and began thrusting his blade toward Lane's chest. Lane dodged with practiced ease and stabbed toward the red-haired man, but his weapon only grazed the thick fur. The attack was pathetically ineffective.
Wolf suddenly materialized behind Lane and grabbed him by the back of his shirt. With brutal force, he slammed Lane onto the ground. The impact knocked the wind from his lungs, and pain exploded across his back.
"Now, if you don't mind," Wolf said as his teeth sharpened into vicious points, "we need to help ourselves. Let us take that blade and feast on you so we can gain—"
A figure approached with measured steps. The man had long white hair cascading down to his waist, and he held a massive sword that was pitch white with a luminous aura shimmering around it like moonlight on water.
"I advise you not to harm this individual," the man said, his voice calm yet commanding.
Wolf stepped back, confidence wavering. "Who in the world are you?"
The man chuckled with a serene expression that seemed utterly out of place. "Deal," he said simply, his white hair shimmering with great power. His eyes weren't red, which meant he was either a freak of nature or not a demon at all.
Lane stepped back, his red eyes darkening with suspicion. "What, you came to save me or something?" Though the siphoning blade was already growing hungry in his grip. If I just stab it into that guy's neck, I'd have all the power I could ever need. All I need is for him to drop his guard, and then I'm golden.
"You're planning to kill me. Why would you do such a thing?" Deal asked.
Lane stepped back in shock, his heart hammering against his ribs. He heard my thoughts? How is that possible? Did he obtain an elemental stone or something? Does he somehow possess telepathy?
A voice slipped into Lane's mind, smooth and unbidden. *I do not have any stones of any sort. All I have is the power that was given to me, which I now call my own, since the person who bestowed it upon me is long dead.*
Lane's face registered pure shock. How could Deal possibly have telepathy without possessing a stone of some sort? I could accept him not being a demon—there are werewolves in the demon realm—but he doesn't seem like either a werewolf or a demon. So what could he possibly be?
That doesn't matter. Whether he can hear my thoughts or not, I need to find the golden opportunity.
"As for you all," Deal said, ignoring Lane's internal turmoil, "I suggest you leave. After all, I don't want any tension between you, considering how five against one isn't exactly fair. Now I shall stand here until you all remove yourselves from the premises where I can see you."
"You just think we're going to leave like that?" one of the men said, stepping forward beside Wolf with defiance burning in his eyes.
"Yes," Deal said simply.
Then he exuded a massive pressure upon all of them. The force was crushing, overwhelming, like being buried under a mountain. Lane, Wolf, and every other member of Wolf's pack fell to their knees, gasping for breath.
You idiot, Lane thought through the haze of pressure. Now that his energy is all out in the air like this, it's just easier and easier for me. But how am I supposed to absorb the energy if I can't even lift my hand?
He gritted his teeth. I'll have to brute force my way through this guy's aura. He lifted his hand with agonizing slowness, every muscle screaming in protest. He managed to hold it up for only a few moments before his hand completely tired out, going numb and falling to the ground like dead weight.
The other hand then. But the other hand didn't hold the blade, which meant Lane would have to do twice the work—grabbing the blade and lifting his hand simultaneously. He lifted his other hand and slowly, painfully reached toward his weapon. His fingers trembled as he managed to grasp the blade's hilt. He mustered every ounce of remaining strength to reach it toward the aura, but before he could make contact, his hand fell to the ground, numb and useless.
"Wait a minute. I feel something," Deal said suddenly, his expression shifting to one of concern.
The aura lowered slightly, though not enough for anyone to escape. "A power... something has awakened. Well, I'll have to see you all later. As for now, I must deal with this matter."
Deal disappeared in a brilliant flash of light. When everyone opened their eyes again, he was gone, and the crushing pressure he had exuded vanished with him. They could all stand up, breathing heavily with relief.
But before anyone could celebrate their reprieve, a figure walked toward them. The man had black hair, a crimson sword, and pitch-black armor that seemed to absorb the light around it. The Black Knight had arrived—the one who protected the outskirts. His presence radiated authority and barely contained violence.
"Give me the blade," the Black Knight said, his voice cold as winter steel.
Lane's fingers tightened around the siphoning blade's hilt. The weapon pulsed with hunger, responding to the power radiating from the Black Knight. So much energy. So much potential. If I could just—
"Or I will have to take it by force."
The Black Knight's crimson sword began to glow, bathing the ground in blood-red light. Wolf and his pack stepped back, their earlier bravado evaporating. But Lane felt something different stirring within him—the blade was whispering, urging, promising him power beyond imagination if he would just strike now.
Lane's red eyes met the Black Knight's gaze. A smile crept across his face.
"Then come and take it."
The air between them crackled with murderous intent. Somewhere in the distance, thunder rumbled. And in that frozen moment before chaos erupted, Lane felt the siphoning blade grow warm in his hand, as if it had been waiting for this confrontation all along.