As the nightmarish illusion continued to grip the group, the atmosphere grew tense. In a secluded area, Lance and Uriel encountered a figure emerging from the shadows. Uriel, his shield and sword at the ready, didn't recognize the man, but Lance's eyes widened in shock.

Victor, the only person who had ever injured Lance when he was human, stepped forward with a smug grin. "Oh my, is that Jet?" Victor's voice dripped with sarcasm. "So you are the Undergrounder known as Lance. That’s why you knew so much about the other members of my crew. Too bad you died, and I was the one who survived in the end."

Lance's expression hardened, memories of his human life flooding back. The pain of his past injuries and the betrayal he felt were still fresh in his mind. He tightened his grip on his lance, ready to confront Victor once and for all.

Uriel looked at Victor, then back at Lance, his eyes filled with concern. "Lance, this guy seems too strong. We should handle this together."

Lance's eyes blazed with determination. "No, Uriel. This is my fight. Let me handle it."

Uriel was taken aback by Lance's sudden outburst. He had never seen Lance so agitated. "Are you sure?"

"Yes!" Lance shouted, his voice echoing with raw emotion. "I need to do this. Stand back and let me handle him."

Uriel, still surprised by Lance's behavior, reluctantly took a step back. He trusted Lance, but he couldn't shake the feeling of unease.

With Uriel taking a back seat, the stage was set for the confrontation between Lance and Victor. The air was thick with anticipation as they squared off, each one sizing up the other. Lance’s grip tightened on his weapon, his gaze locked on Victor.

"Let's see if you've improved since our last encounter," Victor taunted, a smug smile playing on his lips.

The battle began with a flurry of movement. Lance lunged forward, his lance poised to strike, while Victor dodged with fluid grace. Their initial clashes were intense, their weapons clanging with each impact. The ground beneath them trembled with the force of their blows.

Victor’s speed and agility were remarkable. He effortlessly evaded Lance's attacks, his movements almost a blur. "You still rely on brute force," Victor mocked, sidestepping another strike. "No wonder I defeated you so easily before."

Lance's frustration grew, but he refused to let it cloud his judgment. He adjusted his stance, his eyes narrowing with focus. He knew he needed to outthink Victor, not just overpower him.

The two combatants moved with precision, their every step calculated. Lance’s attacks were fierce and relentless, but Victor’s evasive maneuvers kept him just out of reach. Their footwork was a dance of deadly intent, each movement a testament to their skill.

Lance's lance sliced through the air, aimed at Victor's midsection. Victor twisted his body, narrowly avoiding the strike. His eyes gleamed with amusement as he taunted Lance. "Is that all you've got? I expected more from you, Jet."

The words stung, but Lance refused to be discouraged. He pressed on, his attacks growing more strategic. He aimed for weak points, testing Victor's defenses. With each clash, he analyzed Victor's movements, looking for patterns and openings.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Victor’s smile never wavered as he deflected Lance's attacks with ease. He seemed to be toying with Lance, relishing the opportunity to mock his former foe. "You haven’t changed at all. Still slow, still predictable."

Lance’s frustration reached a boiling point. He knew he needed to change tactics. With a determined glint in his eyes, he threw away his shield and lance, opting for a different approach. He summoned his inner power, transforming into Speed Lance—the form he had used to defeat Jeremy.

The transformation was instantaneous. Lance's movements became a blur of speed, his attacks swift and precise. He darted around Victor, striking from every angle. The shift in pace caught Victor off guard, forcing him to adjust his strategy.

Lance’s newfound speed gave him the upper hand. He landed several successful strikes, his lance grazing Victor's defenses. The smug smile on Victor's face wavered as he realized he was no longer in control.

"You’ve gotten faster," Victor admitted, his tone grudgingly respectful. "But speed alone won’t save you."

The battle intensified, each clash more ferocious than the last. Lance’s attacks were relentless, his determination unwavering. He moved with a grace and agility that defied his earlier limitations.

Victor, however, was not done yet. He stepped back, a sinister smile spreading across his face. "It seems I need to get serious too."

With those words, Victor reached for his ring. The air around him crackled with dark energy as he donned the Ring of Azathoth. A transformation began, shrouding Victor in an ominous aura.

Victor's suit was unlike anything Lance had ever seen. The armor was pitch black, with eerie, pulsating patterns. His visor seemed to devour his head, giving off an aura of malevolence. The energy emanating from the ring was overwhelming, far more powerful than anything Lance had encountered before.

"No one knows where this ring comes from or what it is," Victor said, his voice a chilling echo. "But it’s far more powerful than you could ever imagine."

Lance's eyes narrowed as he assessed the new threat. He knew he was facing a formidable opponent, but he refused to back down. With Speed Lance still coursing through his veins, he prepared to face the transformed Victor.

The battle resumed with renewed intensity. Victor’s movements were now accompanied by a dark, otherworldly energy. His attacks were swift and brutal, each strike resonating with immense power. Lance countered with his own speed and precision, refusing to be overwhelmed.

Their clash was a spectacle of skill and determination. Lance's footwork was a blur as he dodged and weaved through Victor's onslaught. His lance became an extension of his will, striking with pinpoint accuracy. Victor’s ominous presence loomed over the battlefield, his every move radiating power.

Lance lunged forward, his lance aimed at Victor's chest. Victor parried the attack, his visor reflecting a sinister glint. "You’re persistent, I’ll give you that," Victor sneered. "But persistence won’t save you."

Lance's expression remained steely, his focus unshaken. He knew he needed to find a way to break through Victor's defenses. With each clash, he tested Victor's limits, looking for weaknesses.

Victor's laughter filled the air as he launched a counterattack. His strikes were relentless, each one aimed to cripple and destroy. Lance’s movements were a dance of survival, his every muscle straining to keep up.

But Lance refused to back down. He pushed himself to the limit, his determination fueling his every move. He knew he had to find a way to overcome Victor’s ominous power and emerge victorious.

As the battle raged on, the stakes grew higher. Lance's resolve was unyielding, his every attack a testament to his will. Victor's ominous presence loomed ever larger, but Lance refused to be intimidated. He would fight with everything he had, determined to bring Victor down and secure justice for his past.

The fight continued, each moment more intense than the last. Their movements were a blur of speed and power, a clash of wills that would determine the outcome of this fateful encounter. Lance and Victor were locked in a battle of epic proportions, each determined to emerge victorious.

And as the battle raged on, the fate of their confrontation hung in the balance, the outcome uncertain but the determination of each fighter unwavering.