“Impossible… This weapon… it will kill Kan.” Dan strained with every fiber of his being to twist away, to prevent Mirin from landing the fatal blow.

  He channeled energy into his feet, launching himself toward them.

  Disarmed, the Knight could only throw up a massive hand to block the strike. The moment Mirin’s sword barely grazed the black plate of Kan’s armor, he felt a crushing pressure on his forearm.

  Impact.

  Dan stood before Kan, shielding him with his own body — darkness cascaded off his shoulders like a heavy cloak.

  Mirin’s arm snapped like a dry branch, his grip failed, and the white sword was wrenched into the air, torn free not by magic, but by pure, brute force.

  Mirin leapt sideways, clutching his arm.

  “Whoa!” he yelled at Dan. “You broke my arm!”

  Breathing heavily, Dan glanced over his shoulder at his Warden:

  “My Lord…” Kan uttered guiltily. “I…”

  “It’s fine,” Dan smiled.

  "He protected him… why? Mirin’s silent question hung in the air. He could have been hit by the blade… what stupidity is this? He was willing to risk himself for… a corpse?, he looked at his broken arm and merely snorted.

  Silence fell over the throne room, broken only by the relentless crackling of stone.

  Dan slowly walked over to Mirin’s sword lying on the floor and reached for it. He tried to take the weapon — and instantly jerked his hand back. Burns seared his fingers.

  “You think you can take what belongs to me?!” Mirin roared.

  Dan narrowed his eyes.

  "The magic is too potent… I can’t even touch it. Which means I can’t let him retrieve the blade.", he studied the weapon carefully — the intricate mana veins, the flawless facets, the glow of pure power.

  "Perfect…", Dan thought, his gaze boring deeper into the sword, “Wait… no nicks or chips… so this isn’t the sword that wounded Bark,” the words escaped the Lord’s lips.

  “Quite the detective…” Mirin smirked, having heard the remark. “Exactly right. That’s a different weapon. The blade I stuck your friend with shattered. Did you really think I only had one?”

  Dan frowned.

  "He can create different types of weapons… but a blade for close combat is more convenient and faster. So, if it shatters after a hit… it’s limited. But it didn’t break against Kan’s sword… and why didn’t he create a short dagger for our fight…", thought Dan.

  The Lord of Darkness turned to Mirin.

  “Your weapons are single-use. It didn’t shatter against the floor or Kan’s sword. Moreover, your blade is so durable it cleaved through a Warden’s weapon, which was reinforced by my magic,” Dan laid out his observations.

  "He’s figured it out", Mirin gritted his teeth.

  “It’s so hard it could slice through mountains, but it will shatter against flesh,” Dan concluded.

  This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

  Mirin gave a nervous smile. “Precisely. A Mirin’s weapon will cut through anything in its path to the target. It doesn’t matter that the blade splinters the moment it touches flesh. Even a scratch is enough — the sword transfers all the mana I’ve tainted into the victim, and then becomes useless.”

  “Bravo. Well done. I’d clap, but one of my arms is broken,” Mirin said sarcastically.

  “And since you still haven’t created a new one, it means forging such a formidable weapon requires colossal energy, and yours is already running low,” Dan continued.

  Mirin grinned. The floor beneath his feet cracked and he shot toward Dan like a bullet.

  Dan, barely able to read his opponent’s movements, realized he wasn’t aiming for him. Mirin was going for the sword.

  Mirin’s hand was already reaching for the hilt on the ground when he suddenly felt a devastating impact. Kan, like a cannonball fired from a siege engine, slammed his full weight into the enemy’s side. The collision sent both flying in opposite directions.

  “Kan!” the Lord of Darkness shouted toward his partner.

  “I’m alright,” the Warden said, trying to rise. “We can’t let him retrieve the sword!”

  “How dare you touch me, you pathetic corpse?!” Mirin screamed, getting up from the floor and preparing to leap again.

  But before he could finish the motion, he felt a palm clamp tightly over his face.

  “What?!” Mirin thought, bewildered. "When did he…"

  The Lord’s icy palm had closed on Mirin’s face so fast that the crackle of stone debris hadn’t even faded. Dan straightened to his full height, lifted his arm, and raised Mirin off the ground.

  “How dare you?!” Mirin rasped, trying to break free from Dan’s death grip.

  With each futile attempt, he realized the grip only grew stronger, like a vise. He felt Dan’s fingers compressing his skull.

  "Where is this strength coming from? Did the thirst for killing empower him…? No, it’s something else… I can feel there’s almost no mana left in his body. Where did it go? Just seconds ago I clearly sensed magical energy radiating from him… and now it’s as if it’s vanished…" Mirin frantically analyzed the situation.

  Dan stood motionless, holding his enemy aloft.

  "No! The Darkness didn’t vanish! He… he’s concentrating it in his hand! Mirin suddenly understood. What… what is he going to do?!"

  “Hey, you! How dare you treat the pinnacle of life like this?! You arrogant, insolent child?!” Mirin shrieked, realizing for the first time in their entire battle that he was in an extremely bad position.

  Dan remained silent. And only the Darkness around Dan’s hand began to condense, like ink, saturating with power. It streamed down his forearm, gathering into a single focal point — in his palm.

  Mirin felt the temperature plummet. A damp, penetrating cold seized his skin, piercing to the bone.

  Kan, slowly getting to his feet, immediately felt the fight was over, but in the same instant, he realized what his Lord was about to do.

  “My Lord!” Kan cried out. “This hall… it…”

  But it was too late.

  A hum.

  Low, viscous, as if an ancient beast were awakening somewhere beneath their feet. The hall shuddered. The stone underfoot trembled, and the air grew heavy, dense. A faint, almost imperceptible scent of ozone filled the space, like before a storm.

  Dan’s hand began to blacken — first the fingers, then the skin of his palm, his wrist, his forearm. The fabric of his sleeve ignited without flame, simply withering to ash upon contact with the Darkness. The blackness spread across his skin like a living thing, resembling ink absorbing all light.

  The space around his hand convulsed.

  From the void came a rending, crunchy sound — as if the strings holding the world together were snapping. The air vibrated so violently that stone dust began to rise of its own accord.

  A screech of energy emanated from Dan’s fingers — thin, ringing, inhuman. It resembled the sound of tearing metal, the screech of a thousand blades clashing simultaneously.

  The Darkness continued to gather in Dan’s palm, condensing at the point where Mirin’s head was clamped. For a moment, absolute silence hung in the air — the kind of silence where thoughts themselves disappear.

  “This is the end,” Dan said calmly.

  “This is only the beginning,” Mirin uttered, smiling for the last time.

  Darkness erupted from the Lord’s palm — not a stream, but a scream of force.

  The sound was like a thunderclap, the roar of a beast, and the ring of a blade shattering under impossible stress, all at once. It tore through space, the walls, the air.

  Mirin was instantly stripped of his head — leaving behind no blood, no flesh.

  The Darkness shot through the throne hall like a projectile, blasting through the far wall.

  The stone columns groaned and began to collapse, one after another. The ceiling fractured deeply and started to rain down. Stone slabs fell in succession, shattering into thousands of shards upon impact with the marble floor.