Chapter 5
A barrier enveloped the battlefield, shielding the city from the devastating clash between Steel and Ronan. Likely Oliver's doing. Without it, the city would have been reduced to ruins.
As the smoke cleared, two figures emerged—one kneeling, the other standing tall. The winner had been decided. Steel.
Looking completely unscathed, Steel strode toward Ronan, intending to end the fight.
Yet, in the shadow of Ronan, something stirred. A presence—dormant, waiting. With each of Steel's steps, it gathered, pulsing in contrast to the knight's stillness. But Steel remained unaware, moving ever closer.
Finally, he reached his opponent.
"I guess I win. Any last words, Sir Ronan?" Steel asked.
"Blood... blood... blood..." Ronan murmured, seemingly ignoring him. His gaze fixated on the crimson dripping from his fingers.
Steel sighed. "Looks like I broke you. Don't worry, I'll end it quickly."
He raised his fist for the final blow.
Then, the drop of blood fell.
It hit the ground with a ripple, insignificant to the world—yet to Ronan, it was everything. The key. The trigger.
A surge of energy erupted from his body.
Steel instinctively leaped back as a violent wave of purple light exploded outward.
"What is this?" Steel's eyes widened.
"Blood… blood… blood…" Ronan's muttering continued, but there was something different now. Something sinister.
Steel didn't hesitate. He charged, fist cocked back, ready to strike before Ronan could fully awaken.
"Why don't you take this instead!" he roared, launching a devastating punch.
Then—silence.
The energy vanished.
Had Steel stopped him? Had he won?
The dust settled.
No.
"Beautiful," Ronan whispered, his voice eerily steady.
Steel's fist—caught. Held effortlessly in Ronan's grasp.
"How long has it been since I've felt this?" Ronan's eyes gleamed with madness. "Oh, how I missed this."
Steel jerked back, retreating. This wasn't the same man he'd been fighting. The dutiful knight was gone. What stood before him was something far more dangerous.
Ronan sighed, tilting his head. "Why so tense? If you won't come to me…"
He vanished.
Steel barely had time to react before Ronan reappeared, blade slashing toward him.
Steel dodged—but just barely. A few strands of his hair drifted to the ground.
Ronan grinned. "Good reflexes."
A swift kick followed. Too fast.
Steel crossed his arms just in time to block, but the sheer force sent him skidding across the battlefield. His hands trembled from the impact.
"Oh? You actually blocked it?" Ronan chuckled, his tone playful, almost delighted.
Steel exhaled sharply, bracing himself. He needed to shift the momentum. He lunged, throwing a punch.
"Tsk, tsk." Ronan dodged effortlessly, sidestepping at the last second. "Too slow, my friend."
Before Steel could react, Ronan was inside his guard. A brutal elbow struck his ribs, launching him backward again.
"You see," Ronan continued, stepping toward him, "you have wonderful battle instincts…"
He grinned, eyes gleaming with amusement.
"But you lack skill."
Steel clenched his fists, breathing heavily.
Ronan spread his arms wide. "Don't let that stop you, though. The fun has just begun."
Those eyes.
Those words.
That mad look in Ronan's gaze—
They sparked a fear in Steel he had never felt before.
He could see it.
Flashing before his eyes—
Death itself.
Every second stretched into eternity as the sensation consumed him.
The sharpness of Ronan's killing intent.
The thick, suffocating aroma of blood in the air.
The invisible hand of death reaching for him.
But none of it—none of it—compared to that look in Ronan's eyes.
That haunting gaze.
The look that told Steel he was nothing more than a scrap of paper to be torn apart.
It dragged him, mercilessly, back into the memories of his childhood.
Into fear.
Into helplessness.
Into rage.
As he fell deeper into the illusion, tears welled up, and a buried anger roared to life.
And with it, he remembered—
The words of his master.
He remembered it like it was yesterday.
Standing in that grimy alleyway, Oliver had asked him:
"Why do you want power?"
"Why do you care for it?"
For reasons Steel couldn't explain, the answer had spilled from him:
"To defy."
"To defy those who would hurt me."
"To defy those who would control me."
"Most of all—to defy death's shackles on my life."
Oliver had smiled then.
"Good," he said. "Let me help you, my little wolf."
That was the day Steel had met him.
The day he had found his strength.
The day he had sworn to defy the world—
To defy death itself.
Steel's monologue ended, and something within him changed.
Shifted.
Awakened.
Ronan saw it—and grinned wider, stepping closer, the madness gleaming in his eyes.
"I SHALL DEFY DEATH!!!" Steel roared.
An explosion of energy burst from his body, surging outward.
Behind him, the spectral form of a wolf took shape, baring its fangs at the world.
Ronan let out a crazed laugh.
"HAHAHA! Yes! This is it! Come—show me your will!"