Derek and the Demon Baron squared off, a charged atmosphere hanging heavy between them, crackling with electric tension. The air seemed to hum as their gazes locked, each assessing the other's strength and intent.
In a heartbeat, Derek's hand moved, a flash of steel emerging from its sheath with a swiftness that defied the eye.
It was a move that caught even the wily Baron off guard, his expression momentarily betraying his surprise.
The blade's arc was a blur, a streak of lethal grace that culminated in a strike so quick that the mind could hardly comprehend it.
Baron's reaction was instinctual, an attempt to ward off the threat that materialized before him.
But his response was too late – his finger, once a testament to his otherworldly power, now lay severed on the ground, a grim reminder of the ferocity of Derek's attack.