Bone-chilling noises erupted across the battlefield with frightening intensity. Raiden moved like a phantom through the blackness, his figure so elusive he seemed to exist nowhere and everywhere in the same breath.
Luci stayed seated in his skeletal throne, swaying rhythmically with a subtle grin spreading across his face while he watched the far-off action.
Raiden's black hair became soft, ethereal white that floated freely around his head. Shadows coiled from his fingertips, twisting into black serpents that slithered up his arms and bound his throat in darkness.
A shadowy dragon-wing symbol crowned his forehead in perfect symmetry, while razor-sharp tattoos slashed beneath his eyes in patterns reminiscent of electric strikes.
His once-blue radiant gradually shifted to obsidian black, pulsing intensely around his form as he wielded a blade forged from pure darkness, wreathed in smoky tendrils that flickered like shadowy flames.
Yet Deathsight remained steadfast, teeth grinding as he tracked Raiden's lightning-fast movements.
He manifested an identical blue dragon-wing sigil on his forehead, mimicking Raiden's transformation, as his aura shifted to black and wrapped around his entire form except for his face, which radiated such murderous intent that Raiden could taste its venom.
The darkness coursed through Raiden, filling him with incredible strength as his dark markings intensified. His shattered arm was hastily wrapped in strips of his torn black shirt, sweat streaming down his ripped torso, while his skeletal mask hung heavy around his neck.
His bond with the darkness ran deeper than words. He commanded the shadows without speaking, and they obeyed before his thoughts had even fully formed.
Each step dissolved into shadow rather than touching earth, the darkness itself catching and propelling him forward. Only his white hair, glowing intensely under the moonlight, betrayed his presence.
Even so, his blade crashed against Deathsight's armor, scattering fragments of deadly, poisonous dust into the air. He held his breath, but with his lungs nearly at their limit, his remaining hand trembled in agony.
For the past few minutes, Ling hadn't launched a single attack. He kept his arms raised, shielding his face while his cursed gray eyes darted rapidly, tracking Raiden's every move. Yet somehow, the moon dragon was the one taking a beating.
With fatigue already coursing from his very soul, Raiden couldn't help but think of a way to end this before it was too late.
He studied Deathsight's concentrated features. Then, commanding the darkness, he closed the distance in a flash, appearing behind him. Breath held, he channeled all his remaining strength into a strike aimed directly at his neck.
The strike was blindingly fast. Raiden propelled himself with mana while the darkness amplified every aspect of his being. Yet somehow, it was as if Ling could see the future.
Before the strike could connect, he caught the shadowy blade with his bare hand in one swift motion. But his instincts screamed danger, and Raiden let go instantly and leaped backward, watching the sword dissolve into nothing.
Cold dread pooled in his chest as he tried to swallow his confusion. He couldn't tell why, but he knew that if he hadn't moved, that would have been the end of him.
He kept his distance, panting hard as he locked onto those very eyes he wanted to gouge out.
The poison dragon, Deathsight, was a mystery even among the primordial dragons and even to Sullivan, their queen. And so, despite possessing all of Sullivan's memories, the moon dragon could think of little except that Ling had an impenetrable defense.
As his exhaustion faded, he could sense his broken arm beginning to mend, but with the extent of his injuries, he knew it would take far too long. Time he couldn't afford.
"Damn it… I need to think of something!" he muttered and summoned another odachi sword.
But the instant he breathed, his throat erupted in agony, as if razors were tearing it apart. The air was toxic. He began coughing violently, and when he tried to hold his breath, it only intensified the torture—his lungs felt like they were collapsing.
He fell to one knee, palm clamped over his mouth as he hacked up blood. His mind reeled, jumping between panicked thoughts. What kind of toxin was this? Or was it something else entirely?
Through the pain, his head jerked toward Deathsight. White hair danced in the heavy wind as he advanced with casual indifference. Raiden's heart hammered against his ribs as he scrambled backward.
"For centuries I bowed to you, queen… no, king. And yet, you remain blind to the true power of the Poison Dragon." Deathsight paused for a moment, cruelly watching Raiden struggle on the ground.
His tone dropped colder and bitter. "I am Deathsight. As long as life remains in you, it will end before me."
Raiden hardly registered the words, his thoughts consumed by something he desperately wanted to forget.
He didn't need Ling's explanation to understand that his poisons operated on an entirely different level from any he'd encountered. If he could corrupt the very air into such venomous hatred, then there was only one path to survival.
The Grim family's secret technique.
He'd never expected his family's deadly technique to be his lifeline. It might kill Deathsight before he could tear out those stolen eyes, but that was better than dying here.
Before Deathsight could finally get a grip on him, Raiden swallowed hard, clenching his throat as his lungs collapsed within his chest with agonizing dread.
He clenched his eyes shut, subsiding the pain as his grip tightened on the hilt of his shadowy sword. He calmed his mind and, in a swift motion, faster than Deathsight could form a thought.
Raiden stood inches away from him. Letting the darkness guide him, he took a measured step to his right, now facing away from the Poison Dragon.
The Reaper—he muttered, and before the words could fade, he spun back to strike. His blade was already arcing through the air toward Ling's neck before his body had finished turning.
But before it could land, Deathsight's eyes widened in realization, sweat breaking across his forehead. He outstretched his arms, and his dark aura formed a shield, but Raiden's blade sliced clean through.
Forced to move faster than ever, he created multiple shield layers while retreating, finally stopping the attack and gaining distance.
The moment this happened, uneasiness shot through Raiden, causing his legs to buckle. Fear crept in as his bruised lungs began failing him. But the pain barely registered. How had Deathsight avoided that strike?
That couldn't be possible; it had to be sheer luck.
He opened his eyes and forced himself to turn in Deathsight's direction. He constricted his throat, forcing his breathing to match his racing heart as he felt its rhythm echo through his entire body.
Ling stood apart from them, caught in a daze as if he hadn't expected such a ferocious attack from the moon dragon.
But even through his confusion, Raiden knew it wasn't best to wait for the Poison Dragon to catch up to him before he ran out of air completely. Luck wouldn't strike twice.
Without hesitation, Raiden gripped his sword and closed the gap instantly. Ling's eyes bulged as he tried to back away, but Raiden's sword found him faster than he could move.
His dominant leg plunged into the shadows beneath him, waist dropping toward his knees as he felt each heartbeat, his sword arcing toward Deathsight's waist with savage force.
And even at a disadvantage, it was as though the Poison Dragon could anticipate perfectly where the sword would strike next.
A shield materialized with more than a dozen layers as Raiden's blade connected, yet the force still launched him earthward.
Terror filled Raiden's eyes as he watched Ling slowly rise to his feet. He dropped to his knees, wondering how Deathsight could still be alive.
Had he not executed the technique correctly? What kind of monster was he facing? Get full chapters from novel•fire.net
He'd never preferred his family's techniques—they killed instantly, and he enjoyed chatting with the fallen until they drew their last breath. But two of the three techniques, The Reaper and Pride, had been hammered into him since childhood. There was no way he could fail.
His morals began crumbling before him. His hand clenched his pants tightly as doubt in his own abilities crept in.
Ling had to die in honor of his twin brother, Jobe, and his lineage as the moon dragon. But if he could block a carefree strike like Reaper and a forceful attack like Pride, what else could Raiden do?
Deathsight rose to his feet and stared down at Raiden with a frown, the blue sigil on his forehead glowing as his condensed aura armor radiated in waves of fleeting shadow.
Raiden could see it clearly: he wasn't playing around anymore. His body began to fidget as he watched the Poison Dragon point a finger at him.
Instantly, his chest tightened, his expression cracking as every fiber of his being screamed for him to run as Ling's dark emotion gathered into a deadly orb on his fingertip.
Raiden sprang to his feet, pushing through his broken hand and giving in to his senses as he attempted to flee. But the moment he turned, he paused, his legs betraying his fear. He clenched his fist. He couldn't be a coward. Not again.
The moment he faced Deathsight, though, a lance of darkness tore through his chest, splintering his bone armor like glass. The skeletal mask around his neck was no exception.
His body ran cold as fear gave way to resignation, and he collapsed, finally surrendering to the piercing void.
Wait… how? Am I really dying here?!