Damien's daggers met Baran's in a shower of sparks.
The impact sent shockwaves rippling through the chamber, cracking the stone beneath their feet. They broke apart, circling each other, their eyes locked. The air between them was thick with tension, charged with the promise of violence.
Baran moved first.
His daggers flashed toward Damien's throat. Damien twisted, the blades passing inches from his skin. He countered, his own daggers driving toward Baran's ribs. The demon king spun, deflecting the strike with a flick of his wrist.
They clashed again....steel against steel, shadow against flame. Sparks erupted with each impact, lighting up the dim chamber. The ground beneath them fractured, chunks of stone flying outward.
Damien ducked under a horizontal slash and drove his knee into Baran's stomach. The demon king grunted, stumbling back. He retaliated with a kick to Damien's chest, sending him skidding across the stone.
Damien rolled to his feet, his daggers already in motion. He lunged, his blades aimed at Baran's heart. The demon king sidestepped, his own daggers carving toward Damien's side. Damien twisted, avoiding the strike by a hair's breadth.
They broke apart again, breathing hard.
"When are you going to wake up?" Baran asked, his voice calm. "When will you face me head-on?"
Damien's eyes narrowed. "What do you want from me?? Huh? What hell are these fucking riddles you talk in?....HUH?" he screamed at him and then narrowed his eyes and spoke
"What did you do to be imprisoned here?"
Baran laughed....a low, genuine sound. "Imprisoned? I am not imprisoned. I am waiting."
"Waiting for what?"
Baran's smile faded. "For you to figure out the truth."
They clashed again.
Their daggers became blurs of motion....slashing, thrusting, parrying. The chamber echoed with the sound of steel striking steel. Sparks flew, lighting up the darkness.
Damien drove his dagger toward Baran's throat. The demon king caught his wrist, twisting. Damien used the momentum to spin, his other dagger carving toward Baran's chest. The demon king released him, leaping back.
"What about the demons outside?" Damien pressed. "The sins. What are they?"
Baran laughed again, shaking his head. "The sins? Oh...Those things.... They have nothing to do with me..... But they are something....Something you should figure out..."
Damien's eyes narrowed. "What about the last one? Pride....What is Pride.... And where is the demons that represent it...."
Baran's grin widened. "There is no Demon representing pride...There never was....In fact there never was a demon that represented the sins...But.....something happened....related to you.....But forget about that for now....Pride will find you when you are ready."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Fight....And you'll learn about it later...."
The battle resumed.
Baran's daggers crackled with lightning, arcs of blue energy dancing along the blades. He lunged, his strikes faster than before, each one aimed at a different part of Damien's body. Damien deflected, dodged, countered—but Baran was relentless.
Damien activated Shadow Slash.
His daggers became a blur of darkness, a hundred strikes in a single second. Baran met them all. His lightning daggers deflected each blow, the impact sending shockwaves rippling through the chamber. The ground beneath them shattered, chunks of stone flying outward.
Baran's head erupted in white flames.
The heat was immense, searing the air around him. Damien stumbled back, shielding his eyes. Baran lunged, his daggers carving toward Damien's chest. Damien twisted, but the flames caught his shoulder, burning through his armor.
He gritted his teeth and kept fighting.
Their daggers clashed again, a shower of sparks and lightning. Damien drove his blade toward Baran's heart. Baran deflected, his own daggers carving toward Damien's throat. Damien ducked, rolling to the side, and came up slashing.
Baran caught his wrist.
"Too slow," the demon king said.
He twisted. Damien's dagger clattered to the ground.
Baran drove his own daggers into Damien's heart.
The impact sent a shockwave through Damien's body. He looked down at the blades protruding from his chest, at the blood spilling from his wound. His vision blurred.
Baran smiled.
"I can already feel it..." he said softly. "There is no coming back from this one.....Damien Ardent"
Damien's knees buckled. He collapsed to the ground, his hand pressing against the wound.
Baran stood over him, his daggers still dripping with blood.
"However...The Shadow Monarch....That's a different matter...."
....
Damien opened his eyes in shock.
His gaze was met by another being....one that he had only heard about, never truly met. And yet, looking at him, he knew who he was. Instantly.
A large, muscular shadow warrior stood before him. His glowing flame-like purple hair burned atop his head, casting flickering shadows across his face. His glowing purple eyes were ancient, filled with centuries of knowledge and pain. Two curved black horns rose from his skull, and his sharp claws gleamed in the dim light. He wore jet-black armor, a long smoky black cloak flowing behind him, and in his hand, he wielded a pure black sword.
Ashborn.
The Shadow Monarch. First Born of Anu and Ki.
Damien stared at him, his mind racing. "You're the Shadow Monarch. First Born of Anu and Ki. That's who you are, right? You're named as the God of Shadows, but you're neither a god nor a dragon. Instead, you were a special being." He paused, his voice rising. "So what is it, huh? What are you?"
Ashborn stood there.
Quiet.
Never speaking. Never moving. He just stood there, his purple eyes fixed on Damien, his expression unreadable.
Damien waited.
And waited.
The silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating. There was not even the sound of a breath from Ashborn. No movement. No indication that he had heard Damien at all.
"WELL FUCKING TALK!" Damien shouted, his voice echoing through the void. "IT'S BECAUSE OF YOU I AM HERE! I WANT ANSWERS! Is Anu right? Are the dragons right? Are the gods right? WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME!"
Silence.
Ashborn stood there, quiet and still, offering nothing. No answers. No explanations. No comfort.
Damien stared at him, his fists clenched, his chest heaving.
The Shadow Monarch did not move. Did not speak. Did not even acknowledge Damien's presence.
He simply stood there.
Waiting.
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