Arthur and the Nightreaver clashed in a blur of movement. The creature's razor-sharp talons struck against the obsidian blade of Arthur's sword with a shrill metallic screech that echoed across the field of dead roses. The impact sent vibrations running up Arthur's arms, but he held firm, grinding his teeth against the jarring sensation.
The Nightreaver immediately disengaged, powerful wings carrying it upward and away. It began circling Arthur like a vulture assessing wounded prey. But in the darkness, Arthur was far from helpless.
He felt the creature's presence without having to look—his Dark Sense painting a vivid picture of his surroundings. Every distortion in the air, every powerful flap of leathery wings, even the rapid rhythm of the creature's heartbeat registered in his heightened awareness. The darkness that others feared had become his ally, revealing what normal eyes could never perceive.
The Nightreaver banked sharply, diving from behind with lethal intent. Its maw gaped wide, rows of serrated teeth gleaming wetly in the moonlight as it aimed for Arthur's head—a killing strike meant to decapitate its prey in one savage bite.
Arthur pivoted, summoning all the momentum his body could generate, and swung his onyx odachi in a horizontal arc to meet the attack. Unlike the first battle he had with a nightreaver, however, this encounter didn't unfold in his favor. The blade of his sword caught between the monster's jaws, its teeth clamping down on the dark metal with frightening force.
The combined momentum sent Arthur tumbling backward. He hit the ground hard, air rushing from his lungs as the Nightreaver landed atop him, its weight pinning him against the cold earth. The creature thrashed its head from side to side, trying to wrench the sword from Arthur's grip, but he held fast, knowing that to lose his weapon now meant certain death.
If not for the nighttime amplification of his abilities, the Nightreaver would have easily overpowered him. As it was, he found himself in a desperate stalemate, arms trembling with exertion as he fought to keep the monster at bay.
Viscous saliva dripped from the creature's maw onto Arthur's face, its putrid stench making his stomach lurch. 'Gross!' he thought, turning his head to avoid the foul liquid.
In this moment of extreme duress, Arthur made a surprising realization—the Nightreaver's strength, while formidable, wasn't as overwhelming as he had anticipated. His mind flashed back to a similar situation with Luke, when he had struggled even more desperately to keep his corrupted friend at bay. What had made Luke so abnormally powerful? It couldn't have been merely the standard enhancements of a chosen. Perhaps the corruption had granted him additional strength?
Arthur shook his head, forcing his mind back to the present crisis. He consciously slowed his panicked breathing, trying to find the calm center that would allow him to think clearly—
A searing pain erupted in his side as one of the Nightreaver's talons pierced through his clothing and into his flesh. Arthur screamed, the sound tearing from his throat unbidden.
'It hurts! Holy shit, it hurts so bad!'
He gritted his teeth, squeezing his sword's hilt so tightly he thought his knuckles might burst through his skin. The creature wiggled the talon lodged in his side, twisting the wound and sending fresh waves of agony through his body.
'I need to get him off me!' Arthur thought desperately. 'Focus! Breathe! Feel the darkness around me! Let it pass through me! Let it consume me! Become one with it!'
Something shifted within him—a deeper connection to the night that surrounded them. Suddenly, Arthur felt as though his body had become weightless, strength surging through his limbs, not the frantic energy of desperation but something colder, more focused—power drawn from the darkness itself.
With a primal scream that contained all his pain and determination, Arthur drove his legs upward, planting his feet against the Nightreaver's abdomen. Using this newfound strength, he kicked with everything he had, launching the beast into the air. In the same fluid motion, he twisted the sword that the monster still gripped between its teeth, using it as a lever to throw the creature.
At the precise moment of maximum momentum, Arthur made his soul sword disappear, catching the Nightreaver by surprise. Without the blade to anchor it, the monster went tumbling backward through the air, crashing through dead roses many feet away with a screech of confusion and rage.
Arthur dragged himself to his feet, one hand pressed against his bleeding wound. He winced as fresh pain lanced through his side, warm blood seeping between his fingers. Taking a deep, steadying breath, he summoned his sword back into existence, the familiar weight of it in his hand providing some small comfort.
'I have to get stronger!' The thought crystallized in his mind with perfect clarity.
Something fundamental had shifted within Arthur. As he raised his gaze to track the recovering Nightreaver, his eyes reflected a transformation deeper than mere physical change. Gone was the frightened, desperate boy who had entered these realms. In his place stood something new—a man who had faced death and refused its embrace, a chosen who was beginning to understand his own potential.
"Let's do this," Arthur whispered under his breath, the words a promise to himself more than a challenge to his adversary.
The Nightreaver screeched in response, as if accepting his invitation to continue their deadly dance. It launched itself forward once more, keeping low to the ground, talons extended and ready to rend flesh from bone. Its wings beat furiously, propelling it toward Arthur with terrifying speed.
But this time, Arthur didn't flinch. This time, he stepped forward to meet it.
With fluid grace that surprised even himself, Arthur sidestepped the creature's initial lunge, pivoting on his back foot as the Nightreaver shot past him. His blade flashed in the moonlight, catching the monster across its flank. Black ichor sprayed from the wound, sizzling where it touched the dead roses below.
The Nightreaver shrieked in pain, twisting in mid-air to face its prey once more. Its eyes, previously filled with predatory confidence, now held something different—wariness, perhaps even a glimmer of fear.