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3.27

Connor stood staring at the shimmering barrier between him and the throne room doors. The paladin had to be the source of the energy wall. He just needed to figure out how to bypass it. The warlock conjured a dart of hellfire and flung it at the barrier. The tiny speck of energy he used fizzled the moment it hit.

So the paladin intended to keep corrupt energy out. That made sense considering everything in the haunted lands was brimming with the stuff, just like Connor himself. If he couldn’t burn his way through maybe he could sneak through. Connor extended his index finger and pulled all the corrupt energy out of it, no shield, no physical enhancements, just flesh and blood.

He reached for the barrier again, embarrassed to notice his hand shook. The tip of his finger touched the wall and after a moment of resistance pushed through. The sensation wasn’t pleasant; it reminded Connor of washing in too-hot water, but he could bear it. The trick was going to be holding all his power as deep inside as possible, long enough to slip through the barrier. The only way to do it was to do it.

Connor directed all his energy flows into his core. His shield faded away, his enhanced senses dulled down to those of a mere mortal. When he finally had his power as contained as he could get it Connor clenched his jaw and stepped through the barrier.

The resistance was worse this time, like walking upstream in a swollen river, and the temperature had risen as well. His flesh turned red and blistered. Pain, raw and undiminished by any soul force techniques, assailed him.

Connor took another step and reached for the doors.

The temperature rose another fifty degrees. It took everything he had not to cry out. As bad as it was, the pain paled compared to diving through the black construct. While heavenly soul force had its uses, when it came to dishing out damage nothing beat corrupt energy.

He shoved the doors open and staggered through. The pain and resistance vanished. Seated on the white marble floor in the lotus position, surrounded by a bright white aura, was a stunning woman in silver mail. White hair swirled around her and a great sword more suited to a northern warrior than a slender young woman sat on the floor beside her.

Connor restored all his protections and enhancements then healed the minor damage caused by the barrier. Did she even know he was there? Maybe he could kill her quickly and finish his business downstairs.

Crackling black hellfire appeared around his hands. The instant it did the woman’s eyes popped open then narrowed. White light shone from them.

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Connor hurled a ball of hellfire. The paladin snatched up her sword and cut the attack out of the air, negating it before it hit. She wielded the massive sword with one hand like it weighed no more than a dagger. Which angel had she struck her bargain with? A powerful one for certain, perhaps even one of the archangels.

He drew more power. This should be a worthy battle indeed. Connor conjured a black dragon and sent it flying toward the paladin. Claws slashed and fangs snapped.

None of them even came close. Her sword a blur, the paladin carved his dragon up. In moments the construct collapsed.

Connor turned the residual energy into dark spears that streaked toward her heart. Perhaps taken by surprise, she missed one of the spears. It struck her mail and sent the paladin flying. She skidded across the empty throne, not stopping until she hit the far wall.

He grinned. She wasn’t invincible at least.

The paladin stood up, not a mark on her. Not even her mail was tarnished from the blow of his spear. His grin soured. He should have known such a weak attack wouldn’t phase a paladin capable of crossing the haunted lands and raising such a powerful barrier. The fact that her sword and armor both had heavenly energy bound into them didn’t help his cause.

The paladin leveled her sword at him. It glowed white. Connor leapt, avoiding a burning arrow by inches. He rolled, spun, and dodged a storm of arrows. Lying on his back Connor sent a black scythe at her knees.

The dark blade stopped when the sword slashed down through his attack. He sent blast after blast at his opponent, watching closely as she slashed each blast out of the sky. After the fourth attack he realized she was using only the power of the sword for both offense and defense. After the sixth blast he noticed the sword’s glow diminishing.

He knew what he had to do now. Connor drew deeply from his core, increasing the power in each blast. If he could just force her to take a little power away from the barrier it might be enough to allow Focalor to break through. With the demon at his side it would be a whole new battle. From the tiny beads of sweat forming on her smooth brow the paladin knew it too.

Connor sent another blast, the biggest one so far. She slashed through it. Her power flared an instant before a wave of white light came roaring at him.

Connor raised his shield at the same moment the wave struck. Dark and light power clashed.

The explosion sent Connor flying. Only his enhanced strength kept his ribs from breaking when he struck the wall.

His opponent stood slumped over, leaning on her no-longer-glowing sword. Connor drew another chunk of power and hurled a black lightning bolt.

She formed a white shield that shattered when the corrupt energy struck it. The barrier wavered.

The ceiling exploded inward. When the dust settled Focalor stood in the center of the throne room.

The demon’s knobby, scaled form shimmered. Bat wings turned to raven wings. The tail shrank and disappeared. The wide, thick body became slimmer and more human.

So his erstwhile partner wasn’t a true demon at all, but a risen demon cast out of hell for the crime of not being evil enough. Should Focalor turn against him Connor wouldn’t last long against both the paladin and the former demon.

For the moment it seemed Focalor had eyes only for the paladin. His gaze locked on the still-silent woman.

“We meet again at last, my love,” Focalor said. “I have so missed you.”