A Dance With Evil

The moment the beast lunged, the air seemed to shudder.

Ian barely had time to react before the monstrous figure was upon him. He threw himself sideways, the force of the beast's charge sending dirt and shattered wood spraying into the air as it tore through the space where he had just stood.

It was fast.

Far faster than anything Ian had fought before.

He rolled to his feet, twin daggers gleaming in his grasp, his breath sharp as he tried to predict the next move. The beast's crimson eyes locked onto him, and its lips curled back in a snarl.

Then—

The air twisted.

His body screamed in warning, but it was already too late.

Ian crossed his daggers in an X to block—

Impact.

A force—invisible, crushing—slammed into him, sending him hurtling through the air like a ragdoll. He barely registered the impact before he crashed through a tree, bark and splinters exploding in every direction. His ribs groaned in protest, pain lancing through his entire body as he hit the ground hard enough to make his vision blur.

He gasped, forcing himself up just in time to see the beast approach, its form wreathed in shimmering distortion.

"Fucking hell…" Ian gritted his teeth. It has mana abilities.

The air warped again.

Ian moved on instinct, throwing himself aside as the ground where he stood collapsed inward, as if something had momentarily crushed it.

It's manipulating force.

The realization came too late.

The beast was already mid-leap.

Ian twisted, bringing up his daggers just as the monster collided with him. The impact rattled his bones, but he lashed out, twin blades slashing deep into the beast's thick hide. Black blood sprayed as the daggers found purchase, carving through muscle and sinew.

The beast screeched, its roar shaking the trees, but Ian had no time to celebrate.

A clawed limb tore through the air.

He raised an arm to block—

Agony.

A line of burning pain cut deep into his forearm, splitting flesh to the bone. Ian barely bit back a scream, staggering back as his vision flashed red.

The beast pressed forward, relentless.

Ian exhaled sharply, and his wound knitted itself back together, flesh mending in seconds.

Pain faded.

He moved.

Ian ducked low, spinning beneath another strike, his daggers flashing in the dim light. He sliced upward, one dagger carving across the beast's throat while the other buried itself into its shoulder.

More black blood spilled.

The beast roared again, its mana surging in response.

Ian felt the force before it hit.

A pulse of unseen power exploded outward, a shockwave that blasted him away like a doll tossed by a hurricane. He twisted mid-air, trying to absorb the impact as he hit the ground in a violent roll.

His body screamed in pain, but he forced himself up.

The beast was injured—bleeding, wounded—but it wasn't slowing down.

Neither could he.

Ian surged forward, daggers flashing, but the beast reacted instantly.

This time, Ian saw it—the subtle twist in the air, the way its mana bent space just before it attacked.

He moved.

The crushing force slammed into the space where he should have been, but he had already shifted, sliding beneath the beast and slashing deep into its belly.

A deep, wet gash split open, spilling hot blood over Ian's arms.

The beast staggered—

Ian struck again.

A dagger found its eye, puncturing deep into its skull.

The beast howled, thrashing wildly.

Then—

A clawed limb slammed into Ian's side.

Pain.

Agony flared as his ribs shattered, his body cracking under the force. He gasped, blood splattering from his lips as he was sent hurtling across the clearing.

He hit the ground hard.

Everything hurt.

His remaining soul essence surged, desperately working to repair the damage—bones mending, flesh weaving itself back together.

But he felt it.

His healing was slowing.

'I'm running out.'

The beast limped toward him, its own body marred by wounds, its breath ragged.

They were both near their limit.

This fight would end soon.

One way or another.

Ian forced himself up, gripping his daggers. His entire body trembled. His essence was drained, his healing at its end.

One more mistake, and he was dead.

The beast charged.

Ian inhaled sharply.

Now he would play his last hand.

The shadows around him stirred.

A figure emerged from Ian's own shadow—tall, monstrous, wrapped in purple mist and darkness.

Pit Brawler.

The summoned soul bound moved with inhuman speed. It threw a single punch.

The impact was not as strong as Ian's own strike, but for the wounded beast it was enough.

The beast reeled, its skull snapping back with a sickening crunch.

For just a second—it hesitated.

That was all Ian needed.

He moved.

His body screamed, his mind roared against the action, but he ignored it all.

Ian lunged, twin daggers plunging into the beast's throat with all the force he could muster.

The blades sank deep.

The beast choked, gurgling on its own blood.

Ian twisted the daggers.

The light in its crimson eyes flickered—

Then faded.

The monster collapsed.

Ian stumbled back, gasping. His vision blurred, his body broken. His soul essence was spent...all of it.

He could not longer heal.

He was… dying.

Then—

A familiar ding echoed in his mind.

[Predator Slain: Wraith Monger.]

[Soul Available: Absorb?]

[Yes] - [No]

Ian exhaled.

"Yes."

The moment the word left his lips, the rush hit him.

Raw power flooded his veins.

His wounds closed. His strength returned in an instant.

But more than that—

For the first time—

Ian felt it.

Something new.

Something different.

Mana.

[+24 Mana Attribute Acquired]

His breath hitched.

His heart pounded.

The energy surged within him—foreign, yet familiar.

Then—

He felt it.

The eyes.

Dozens of them.

All around.

Crimson glows pierced the shadows of the trees.

The beasts had been watching.

Waiting.

Refusing to approach in fear of Eli.

But Eli was no longer here.

And now—

Ian was alone.

So what stopped them?

His fingers tightened around his daggers as his newly awakened mana hummed beneath his skin.

"Fucking hell."