11th Dawn

I clutched my damaged shoulder as I flew erratically, struggling to dodge the relentless barrage of shards. My speed was slower, and with each passing second, my stamina drained away. Five more shards hit me, embedding themselves in my skin. Dark, jagged dots spread across my body, and I crashed to the ground. Aloka's voice, dripping with confidence, echoed through the air.

"At this rate, you'll die before I even get to enjoy this."

I pressed my hands over the open wounds, trying to stop the bleeding, but blood seeped through the gaps between my fingers. My vision blurred, and I felt myself slipping into unconsciousness. Just before I lost all awareness, Hildegarde's voice rang in my head.

"I can only heal your body from the inside. Get up!"

Her words jolted me back into consciousness. I checked myself over. The blood was clotting, platelets covering the wounds. A surge of adrenaline coursed through me. I flapped my wings and shot back into the air with immense speed. I lunged at Aloka, landing a solid punch to his face. A rush of power filled me as I continued to strike him, my fists hammering into his body.

He staggered backward, clutching his stomach. Just as I was about to take another step and deliver a final blow, he disappeared into black mist.

Before I could react, his shadowy form reappeared, gripping my neck with terrifying strength. I gasped, unable to comprehend the speed at which he moved. With a cold sneer, he spat a purple liquid from his mouth.

"This fight was getting boring, so I had to let you land a hit," he said mockingly.

Then, his fist connected with my face again and again, shattering my nose. The pain was blinding.

"I'll give you one last chance to give up," he sneered.

I was about to refuse when another punch landed, this time dislocating both of my arms with minimal effort. The agony was overwhelming, and I screamed in pain. Aloka noticed the scabbard behind me, tearing it off my back with ease.

"What the fuck is this?" he spat in disgust.

He snapped the scabbard in two and threw it aside.

"Now, let's get back to business."

I panicked as my dislocated arm sent waves of excruciating pain through my body. My breath came in ragged gasps, and I felt completely powerless.

He gently laid me on the ground, immobilizing me. I couldn't move, couldn't fight back. Then I saw it—Aloka forming a dark rod, almost like a baseball bat, and taking a stance. Before I could prepare, he slammed it down onto my head with terrifying force.

For a moment, I thought my head might actually be ripped from my body, but it stayed intact. I screamed in agony, clutching my skull. My entire body was on fire, and the urge to surrender, to end it all, clawed at my mind.

Aloka's voice dripped with disappointment.

"Aww, your head didn't fly off. Shame."

As he reached for me again, I managed a final, desperate act. I sank my fangs into his wrist, tearing at his flesh with everything I had left. He jerked his arm back in disgust.

"Oh, now you've really done it," he muttered, his face twisted in anger.

With a final, pained grunt, I managed to stand, though my body screamed in protest. I grabbed the damaged half of the sword and, though my wrist bled, I pushed through the pain. The sword's familiar weight steadied me, and with it, came a surge of newfound resolve.

I lunged at Aloka, aiming for his chest, but he didn't flinch. Instead, he shifted back, narrowly avoiding the strike.

"What's this?" he said, his tone cold. "Where did you get that sword?"

"You don't need to know," I gritted through my teeth. "But I'll be taking your life with it."

I tore the remnants of my clothes and tied the sword to my left arm. Without waiting, I launched myself at him. My arm swung in a wide arc towards his face. He barely managed to evade it, but the tip of the sword grazed his nose. He dropped low, attempting to punch me in the gut, but I predicted his move and grabbed his arm, using all my strength to hold him in place.

Then, with my sword-laden arm, I slashed through his hand, severing it cleanly.

His face contorted in pain, but he remained silent.

"It seems that sword has given you some confidence," he said with a dark grin. "It's time for me to get serious."

My heart raced, but I knew this was it. I had no choice but to fight with everything I had. The sword was my only hope.

Aloka rose, his body enveloped in a swirling shadow mist.

"Schwarzer Schleir," he uttered, and the darkness consumed everything around us.

I recognized the move from our first encounter, but this time, the effect was far more intense. The entire area was shrouded in pitch-black shadow, and I couldn't sense his location. I felt his aura everywhere.

Suddenly, I heard his voice, cold and mocking.

"Open."

A sword made of black mass appeared, and before I could react, it pierced straight through my stomach. I gasped in shock, blood spilling from my mouth as I coughed violently. The pain was unbearable.