The world had turned into a nightmare. The smell of blood hung heavy in the air, mixing with the acrid scent of burning wood and flesh. My muscles ached, my breath ragged as I stumbled back, narrowly avoiding another demon’s strike. The demon was relentless, its claws raking the air where I’d just been.
We weren’t holding them off anymore. We were barely surviving.
My mana had drained to 231, and I felt the weight of every spell, every swing of the Shadow’s Sword. The blade flickered in my hand, the strain of keeping it solid nearly unbearable. Fatigue had settled deep into my bones, making each movement slower, less precise. I could feel the wounds now—small cuts, deep bruises—throbbing with every heartbeat.
A scream tore through the square. I turned just in time to see one of the villagers—an older man I’d seen around the market—grabbed by a demon. His body flailed helplessly as the creature lifted him into the air, claws sinking into his flesh. His cries for help turned into a sickening gurgle as the demon’s jaws snapped shut around his throat, and then there was silence.
Rage flared in me, but there was nothing I could do. There were too many of them.
"Sam!" Isonorai shouted, her voice barely cutting through the chaos. I turned, catching a glimpse of her fighting off two demons at once. Her swords flashed, but even she was slowing down, her movements less fluid, more desperate. Her armor was splattered with blood—some hers, some not—and the exhaustion in her eyes mirrored my own.
“We need to pull back!” she yelled, blocking a vicious swing from one of the demons.
“I know!” I snapped, frustration boiling over. I wanted to argue, to tell her that we could still fight, but I wasn’t sure I believed that anymore. I was running out of mana, and the demons were relentless.
As if things couldn’t get worse, a horn blast echoed through the square. The sound was deep, ominous, and my stomach dropped. The demons’ officer corps had joined the fray.
From the shadows of the burning village emerged a new wave of demons. These weren’t like the mindless beasts we’d been fighting—these were organized, armored, and led by a commander who stood at least a foot taller than the rest. His red eyes gleamed with malice, and his armor, dark as night, bore the insignia of something far worse than anything we’d faced.
I froze for a second, my mind flashing back to the day my family and I wiped out the demon battalion when I was just a baby. I remembered the look in the commander’s eyes as I sliced through his neck, watching the life drain out of him. These officers—they wanted revenge. They’d come for me.
“Formation!” The demon commander’s voice boomed through the square, and his troops snapped into formation with military precision. The few villagers who still fought didn’t stand a chance.
One by one, they fell. Some were ripped apart by claws, others crushed by brute strength. I watched in horror as a woman I recognized from the village bakery tried to run, only to be impaled by a demon officer’s spear. Her body crumpled to the ground, lifeless.
I gritted my teeth, feeling the burn of anger and helplessness rise in my chest. “Isonorai, we have to do something!” I shouted over the din, my voice raw.
“What the hell do you think we’ve been doing?” she spat, cutting down another demon. Her arms trembled with the effort, but she kept fighting. “We can’t stop them!”
I knew she was right. My mana was slipping away, my health slowly ticking down as fatigue set in. Each demon killed granted me 500 experience points, but it didn’t matter anymore. The officers were stronger, faster, and they were tearing through us like we were nothing.
Another villager screamed as they were thrown into the air, landing with a sickening crack against the stone. More blood stained the ground, mixing with the bodies piling up around us.
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I took a deep breath, trying to calm the panic rising in my chest. Think, Sam, think. The Shadow’s Sword wouldn’t last much longer if I kept burning through my mana like this. But what other choice did I have?
The demon commander locked eyes with me from across the square, his lips curling into a twisted smile. He pointed his sword in my direction, and I knew—he was coming for me.
“Stay close!” I barked at Isonorai, gripping the flickering shadow blade tightly. “We need to take out the officers first. If we don’t, we’re finished.”
“Easier said than done,” she muttered, her breathing labored.
The demon commander began to advance, his officers following behind him. They moved with a terrifying precision, their eyes fixed on us.
The demon commander’s presence loomed over us like a shadow of death. His eyes gleamed with malice, and his officers, now in formation, flanked him with cold precision. I gripped my Shadow’s Sword tighter, feeling the cold energy pulse through my hand, but the reality of my situation hit hard.
Mana: 231/355. It was draining fast.
I could feel the fatigue settling into my bones. Each second, each slash of my sword against the air, ate away at my strength, and the fight was just beginning. Around me, the square had become a battleground of blood and screams. Villagers fell, brutally torn apart by the demons, while the few survivors fought with desperate ferocity.
Isonorai’s voice cut through the chaos. “Sam! We can’t let them take any more ground!”
“I know!” I shouted back, but even as the words left my mouth, doubt crept in. Could we really hold them here? My mind raced for a plan, anything to turn the tide.
The demon commander stepped forward, dragging his colossal blade through the dirt, a low growl rumbling from his throat. “You killed my brother,” he spat, his voice full of venom. “Now, I will make you watch your people die.”
I swallowed hard, the memory of the massacre from when I was barely one year old rushing back. I had wiped out a whole demon squadron, including their commander. That commander’s blood had stained the ground crimson, his death at my hands swift and brutal. Now, his brother stood before me, hungry for revenge.
He lunged, and I barely brought my Shadow’s Sword up in time to block. The force of the blow rattled through my arms, and I stumbled back.
Mana: 210/355.
The blade’s weight pressed down on me, draining my energy. I gritted my teeth and pushed back, but the mana cost was too high. Every second of resistance felt like a nail in my coffin. Another swing from the commander—this one harder, faster—and I was forced to sidestep.
Mana: 205/355.
The officers advanced, tightening the circle around us. Isonorai was fending off one of them, her blades flashing in the dim light, but even she was slowing down. Blood dripped from a wound on her arm, and her movements had become labored. We were both running on fumes.
I swung my sword at the nearest officer, catching him in the chest. Shadows surged through the blade as it connected, but even that took more energy than I could afford.
Mana: 198/355.
The officer barely flinched, his armor absorbing the brunt of the blow. He countered with a heavy swing of his axe, forcing me to parry. The impact sent a shock of pain through my arms.
Health: 285/317. Mana: 185/355.
I couldn’t keep this up. Not with the commander and his officers pushing us back like this. Another strike came my way, and I barely dodged in time, the blade slicing through the air where my head had just been. I spun and slashed with the Shadow’s Sword, but every movement felt slower, heavier.
Mana: 178/355.
“We need to break their line!” Isonorai’s voice cut through the chaos again, but it sounded further away now, distant, like we were being separated by more than just the battle.
“I’m trying!” I slashed again, my sword barely grazing the next officer. Their armor was too thick, and my mana was draining faster than I could land solid hits.
Mana: 160/355.
The demon commander laughed, his voice booming over the battlefield. “Is this all you’ve got, child? You’ve grown weak. Pathetic.”
Rage flared inside me, but I knew better than to let it take control. I had to be smart, had to conserve what little energy I had left. But the demons were relentless. Another officer lunged, and I parried, but it cost me.
Mana: 150/355.
I could feel my strength waning, my body protesting with every movement. The battle had become a blur of pain and exhaustion. The commander raised his sword, grinning, ready to deliver the killing blow.
Mana: 140/355.
I had seconds to act, and not enough mana to waste. I forced more power into the Shadow’s Sword, feeling it surge with dark energy, just enough for one final desperate strike. I aimed for the commander’s exposed side, hoping it would be enough to turn the tide, or at least buy us more time.
Mana: 130/355.
The blade connected, but the damage was minimal. The commander laughed, his sword coming down toward my head.