A few minutes earlier at the riverbank

...

Drew's massive frame towered over the battlefield, his eyes scanning the chaos with machine-like precision. Bodies lay strewn across the blood-soaked earth, a grim testament to the ferocity of the fight. The air rang with the clash of steel and the screams of the dying.

His face remained impassive, betraying no hint of emotion as he methodically dispatched foe after foe. Each swing of his makeshift weapon sent bandits flying, their bodies crumpling like rag dolls against the unyielding ground.

Inefficient, he thought, his mind constantly analyzing, strategizing. We're spread too thin. Need to regroup, push towards the camp.

A flicker of movement caught his eye, faster than any normal human could move. Drew's instincts screamed danger, and he brought his weapon up just in time to catch a blade that would have taken his head clean off.

The force of the blow sent shockwaves up Drew's arm, and for the first time since the battle began, a flicker of surprise crossed his face. His eyes locked with those of his attacker, a lean, wiry man with a face as sharp and deadly as the knife he wielded.

"Well, well," the man sneered, his voice dripping with mock admiration. "Looks like the big guy's got some moves after all. Name's Dagger, by the way. Thought you should know who's about to end you."

Drew's eyes narrowed, his grip tightening on his weapon. This one's different. Stronger. Faster.

Without warning, Dagger vanished, melting into the shadows as if he'd never been there at all. Drew tensed, his senses on high alert. A whisper of movement behind him, and he spun, barely deflecting another strike aimed at his back.

Dagger reappeared, a wicked grin splitting his face. "Ooh, you're good," he chuckled. "Most don't see that coming. But let's see how you handle this. [Shadow of Disguise]!"

This guy talks too much, Drew thought as he braced for impact.

The air around Dagger seemed to ripple, and suddenly Drew found himself surrounded by identical copies of the assassin. They moved in perfect unison, a dizzying dance of blades and shadows.

Drew gritted his teeth, his calmness, if it was there l, looked to beginning to crack. He lashed out, his weapon passing harmlessly through two Daggers before connecting with a third. But instead of the satisfying crunch of bone, his attack met only empty air.

A sharp "pain" blossomed in Drew's side, and he looked down to see a knife buried to the hilt between his ribs. The real Dagger stood there, his grin now tinged with genuine surprise.

"Huh," Dagger mused, twisting the blade. "Thought that'd drop you. You're tougher than you look, big guy."

Drew's response was a backhanded swing that sent Dagger flying. The assassin hit the ground hard but rolled with the impact, disappearing into the shadows once more.

Focus, Drew commanded himself, ignoring the blood seeping from his wound. Analyze. Adapt.

A primal scream tore through the air as a red-eyed bandit lunged at Drew, spittle flying from his mouth, eyes wild with bloodlust. Drew pivoted, his massive fist connecting with the man's jaw. Bone crunched, and the attacker crumpled.

But there was no reprieve. Two more took his place, their blades glinting in the moonlight. Drew barely deflected one strike before the other sliced across his forearm, drawing a line of crimson.

To his left, a bandit girl no older than sixteen hurled herself at him, a crude spear clutched in her white-knuckled grip. Drew caught the weapon, snapping it like a twig, but the girl didn't relent. She clawed at his face, nails raking flesh, screaming incoherently all the while.

Drew tossed her aside, only to feel the impact of a mace against his back. He stumbled, turning to face this new threat. The mace-wielder grinned maniacally, blood and foam flecking his beard. He raised his weapon for another strike—

And disappeared in a blur of shadow. Dagger materialized in his place, knife slashing towards Drew's throat.

Too many fronts, Drew thought, barely deflecting the assassin's strike. Can't maintain defense. Need to—

His strategic planning was cut short as a wave of frenzied bandits crashed against him, their eyes glowing with that eerie red light. They cared nothing for technique or self-preservation, using their very bodies as weapons.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Drew's world narrowed to a chaotic whirlwind of flashing steel, gnashing teeth, and relentless, hate-filled eyes.

Drew's movements became a blur, his massive frame belying an impossible speed. Bandits fell by the dozen, their weapons no match for his raw strength and brutal efficiency. But for every one that fell, two more seemed to take their place.

Too many, Drew thought, a hint of frustration creeping into his mental voice. Can't keep this up forever.

Dagger's voice rang out from the shadows, taunting and malicious. "Feeling the heat yet, big guy? Don't worry, I'll end it quick. Maybe."

The assassin materialized behind Drew, his blade seeking the vulnerable spot at the base of the skull. But Drew was ready this time. He dropped low, the knife whistling harmlessly overhead, and countered with an upward strike that caught Dagger square in the chest.

The blow should have been devastating, enough to cave in the ribcage of any normal man. But Dagger merely grunted, stumbling back a few steps before regaining his balance.

"Nice try," Dagger wheezed, a trickle of blood running from the corner of his mouth. "But it'll take more than that to put me down. [Shadow of Binding]!"

Inky tendrils erupted from the ground, wrapping around Drew's legs and arms. He strained against them, muscles bulging with effort, but the shadows held firm.

Dagger approached, twirling his knife with casual menace. "Not so tough now, are you?" he sneered. "Any last words before I carve you up like a holiday roast?"

Drew's face remained impassive, but inwardly, his mind raced. Options limited. Physical strength insufficient. Need alternative strategy.

Just as Dagger raised his knife for the killing blow, a sound cut through the chaos of battle. It was similar the similar "Sound" he heard when the girl stepped on the trap that exploded. And it was coming from the camp.

Drew's eyes widened in realization. My lord...

The sound built to a deafening crescendo, and then...

BOOM!

The explosion rocked the battlefield, a massive fireball lighting up the night sky. The shockwave hit moments later, knocking fighters off their feet and sending debris flying in all directions.

Dagger stumbled, his concentration broken. The shadow bindings holding Drew dissipated, and he wasted no time in pressing his advantage. His massive fist connected with Dagger's jaw, sending the assassin sprawling.

Around them, the battle had ground to a halt. Bandits and creations alike stared in awe and terror at the inferno raging in the distance.

Dagger pulled himself to his feet, a mix of frustration and excitement dancing in his eyes. "Well, well," he chuckled, wiping blood from his split lip. "Looks like the fun's just getting started. Your boss must be having one hell of a party over there."

That was too extreme though. How the hell did [Bane of Inferno] get so big? There couldn't have been that much body heat. Dagger thought as he prepared himself.

Drew ignored him, his mind focused on a single thought: Reach the camp. Protect my lord.

With renewed determination, Drew charged forward, barreling through the ranks of stunned bandits. But Dagger wasn't about to let him go so easily.

"[Shadow of Disguise]!" the assassin called out, and suddenly the air was filled with cloaked figures, indistinguishable from the real bandits.

Drew felt a sharp pain in his shoulder and looked down to see a small, wiry man dangling from his arm, a knife buried deep in his flesh. Without hesitation, Drew grabbed the attacker and slammed him into the ground with bone-crushing force. The man's skull shattered on impact, blood and brain matter splattering across the earth.

But that was just the beginning. More hidden assailants emerged, their blades finding gaps in Drew's defense. One after another, they struck, leaving Drew reeling from multiple wounds.

Two vital hits, Drew assessed clinically, even as blood poured from his injuries. Combat effectiveness decreasing. Estimated time to incapacitation: 10 minutes.

Dagger watched with savage glee, his earlier frustration forgotten. "Not so invincible after all, are you?" he taunted. "Maybe I'll keep you alive just long enough to watch your precious lord burn."

"!!!"

Something snapped inside Drew at those words. The rage that had been simmering beneath the surface, held in check by his iron will, suddenly boiled over. His vision tinged with red, and he felt a surge of power unlike anything he'd experienced before.

With a roar that shook the very air, Drew embraced the fury. His muscles swelled, veins bulging grotesquely beneath his skin. The pain of his wounds faded, replaced by a burning need to destroy, to protect, to win.

Drew was actually feeling rage now. For the first time ever, he had an emotion.

Dagger's smug grin faltered as he watched Drew's transformation. "What the hell...?" he muttered, taking an involuntary step back.

But Drew was beyond words now. He charged forward with inhuman speed, his massive frame a blur of motion. Bandits flew left and right, their weapons shattering against his now-impenetrable skin.

As Drew tore through the ranks of enemies, a strange sensation overtook him. The veins in his temples pulsed visibly, bulging against his skin with each thunderous heartbeat. His vision began to shift, the world around him taking on a surreal quality. Colors intensified, blending and swirling in ways that defied logic. Sounds became distorted, as if he were underwater, the clash of battle fading into a muffled, distant roar.

Drew's body moved on autopilot, crushing foes with mechanical efficiency even as his mind struggled to process the bizarre sensory overload. The disconnect between his relentless physical onslaught and his increasingly disoriented mental state grew with each passing second.

Must... protect... lord... The thought echoed in Drew's mind, growing fainter with each repetition.

His legs gave out, and Drew crashed to the ground. The last thing he heard before consciousness slipped away was Dagger's mocking laughter.

When Drew opened his eyes, he found himself in a strange, purple-tinged space. It stretched out endlessly in all directions, with no discernible features or landmarks. He stood, or rather floated, in this bizarre void, his body feeling both weightless and impossibly heavy at the same time.

Where... am I? Drew thought, his normally analytical mind struggling to make sense of his surroundings. Is this... death?