Escape from the island

"Not before I send you crashing to the ground," Jorghan replied, the sapphire pulsing in rhythm with his heartbeat.

He pushed off from the ledge, launching himself directly at Blackhorn with reckless speed. The demon just squinted his eyes, startled by his speed.

Jorghan twisted in mid-air, evading another shadow tendril that lashed out at him. As he neared Blackhorn, he activated another technique.

[Blood Mist]

His skin exuded a fine crimson vapour that spread around him like a cloud. It was a defensive measure usually, obscuring vision and confusing opponents. But Jorghan had modified it, infusing the mist with caustic properties.

Blackhorn hissed as the mist touched his skin, the red dots flaring brighter in response to the attack. The demon swept his arm in a wide arc, creating a gust of wind that dispersed the blood mist.

But the distraction had served its purpose.

Jorghan landed behind Blackhorn and immediately struck at the back of the demon's knee—a vulnerable point even on a being of such power.

A jagged shard of crystallised blood erupted from Jorghan's palm, driving into the joint with all the force the boy could muster.

This time, the attack penetrated, causing Blackhorn to stagger slightly.

"Clever," the demon growled, black blood seeping from the wound. "But not clever enough."

Faster than Jorghan could react, Blackhorn's tail—a feature he hadn't noticed before—whipped around, catching him squarely in the chest and sending him flying across the room. He slammed into the wall with bone-jarring force, the air driven from his lungs.

[Mana level: 900%]

The defensive techniques were draining him faster than he'd anticipated. Jorghan pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the pain that radiated through his ribcage. Sigwuarna's voice echoed in his mind:

"Pain is information, not an impediment. Use it to gauge your limits, then push beyond them."

Jolthar was still getting used to the level of mana he had inside him, and if he lost control, he would lose his consciousness to his berserk self. The last time it happened was during the death of his clan; Sigwaurna told him that she found him in a chaotic and disturbed manner. A mysterious negative energy engulfed him at that time.

Blackhorn was approaching again, his limp barely noticeable. "That stone you're clutching so desperately," he said, "do you even know what it is?"

"A way out," Jorghan replied, preparing for another exchange. "A key to escape this prison domain."

The demon's laugh was cold. "Is that what you think? The Red Sapphire doesn't recognise you, boy. It is reacting to the mana inside you, and you have that in abundance. But using it requires knowledge you do not possess."

"And definitely not as easy as you think it is to escape this hellhole."

Jorghan narrowed his eyes.

Was Blackhorn stalling? The distant explosions were growing closer, the castle trembling more frequently. Whatever distraction had occurred earlier was escalating.

Taking advantage of the moment, Jorghan channelled mana into his legs and executed a technique he had been developing in secret, away from Sigwuarna's watchful eyes.

His form blurred as he moved, leaving afterimages that dissipated like smoke. The technique consumed mana at an alarming rate, but the speed it granted was unmatched. He appeared behind Blackhorn again, this time leaping onto the demon's back and pressing his palm against the base of the horn.

A complex array of blood-red sigils spread from his hand, wrapping around the horn and seeping into Blackhorn's skin. The demon roared in genuine pain and rage, reaching back to grab Jorghan.

But the boy had already pushed off, landing in a crouch near the chamber's entrance.

"What did you do?" Blackhorn demanded, the red dots on his skin pulsing erratically. The horn, once glowing with power, now appeared dull.

"Temporarily severed your connection to your horn," Jorghan explained, breathing heavily. "Sigwuarna taught me that a demon's horn is the conduit for much of their power. I may not be able to defeat you, but I can level the playing field a little."

Blackhorn's face contorted with fury. "You'll pay for that, you pipsqueak."

The castle shook violently then, and a portion of the ceiling collapsed, raining debris between them.

Jorghan saw his opportunity.

With the sapphire still clutched tightly in his hand, he turned and sprinted through the chamber doors.

Behind him, Blackhorn bellowed commands in a demonic tongue, likely summoning guards or activating defences.

Jorghan raced down the spiral corridor, his mind working furiously. The stone was vibrating now, growing warmer in his palm. It seemed to be reacting to his heightened emotional state, to the danger pursuing him.

[Mana level: 880%]

He was burning through his reserves faster than expected. The Blood Step technique alone had cost him 20% of his mana—a price he couldn't afford to pay again.

As he reached the window he had entered through, shouts and the sound of running feet echoed up the stairwell. Guards were coming. And behind them, he could sense Blackhorn's presence, diminished but still formidable, descending the tower in pursuit.

Jorghan paused at the window, looking down at the dizzying drop. The rooftops that had provided his entrance route now seemed perilously far away. But there was no turning back.

He held the stone forward, trying to use its power to cast a spell.

The gem pulsed once, twice, then emitted a beam of crimson light that stretched outward, creating what appeared to be a bridge of solid light extending from the window to a distant rooftop.

Without hesitation, Jorghan stepped onto the light bridge. It held his weight, though the sensation was strange—like walking on glass covered in a thin layer of water.

He ran along the bridge, hearing Blackhorn's enraged roar as the demon reached the window behind him.

Looking back, he saw the demon attempt to follow, only to recoil as the light bridge rejected his touch, burning his outstretched hand.

"This isn't over, you little runt!" Blackhorn called after him, his voice carrying across the distance. "I have marked you. And I will find you again."

Jorghan didn't pause to respond. He reached the end of the light bridge, landing on a rooftop far from the central tower. The bridge disappeared behind him, the sapphire's light dimming slightly.

Moving quickly across the rooftops, Jorghan made his way toward the edge of the castle complex. He needed to find Swana and the others to get off Driftrock before Blackhorn mobilized his full forces.

As he navigated the complex network of buildings, Jorghan allowed himself a moment of triumph. He had faced a demon lord and survived. He had obtained the Red Sapphire.

Just as he reached the outer perimeter of the castle, alarm bells began to ring throughout the complex. Guards swarmed the courtyards below, and flying creatures—winged demons with scales like polished obsidian—took to the air, circling in search patterns.

Jorghan crouched low, concealing himself behind a chimney. He studied the sapphire in his hand, wondering if it could create another bridge to carry him beyond the castle walls.

Before he could attempt it, an explosion rocked the western side of the complex—much closer than the earlier disturbances. Smoke billowed into the night sky, and the guards changed direction, rushing toward the new threat.

Taking advantage of the chaos, Jorghan slipped over the edge of the roof and began scaling down the wall. His small fingers found purchase in the narrowest of cracks, his body moving with the surety of one born to climb.

When he reached the ground, he pressed himself against the wall, watching as guards ran past, none sparing a glance for the small human child hiding in plain sight.

Once the way was clear, Jorghan darted across the open ground toward the edge of the cliff that bordered the eastern side of the castle.

Beyond lay the city, and somewhere within it, Swana and the others.

As he reached the cliff edge, he heard a familiar voice calling his name.