Cedric's chest heaved. Blood streaked across his face, his right arm shaking from the repeated impacts, his left arm aching where the dagger had grazed him. Pain clawed at every breath—but something inside him **snapped**. Not despair. Not fear.
Defiance.
A spark that refused to be smothered.
*No… I will not fall to this demon. Not now. Not ever.*
With that thought, he clenched the hilt of his blade with both hands.
Lightning **erupted**.
It tore through his body in violent arcs, crackling across his armor as Cedric surged forward in a desperate, punishing burst of speed. The shadows **scrambled backward**, unable to cling to him as he carved a path through the darkness, forcing Draven to give ground—if only for a moment.
Cedric's eyes burned with cold resolve as they locked onto Draven. Blood poured freely from his nose and mouth, his arm trembling, but he did not hesitate. He wiped the crimson away with the back of his arm, muscles coiling, stance tightening.
Then his voice cut through the void.
Low. Steady. Heavy with intent.
"O Goddess of Light… she who stands as judgment incarnate…"
The words were not shouted. They didn't need to be.
His prayer—half chant, half command—**seized the air itself**, twisting it into a luminous conduit. Lightning merged with something purer, white-gold threads of divine judgment lacing through the storm like molten blades.
Cedric swung.
The blade traced a wide arc, holy energy flaring outward in a brilliant crescent that **cut through the shadows like steel through silk**. Darkness recoiled, quivering, forced to retreat beneath the purifying pressure.
For the first time, Draven's calm mask flickered.
Not fear.
**Interest.**
His crimson eye narrowed. The shadows around him **coiled tighter**, sensing the sudden intrusion of divine will.
Cedric straightened, lightning flickering erratically across his body as he wiped the blood from his mouth with his sleeve. He shifted his grip, drawing the blade close, then transferring it smoothly into his left hand—holding it like a conduit for the power surging through him.
The shadows around him **shuddered**, retreating just slightly beneath the intensity of his aura.
Draven's grin tugged at the corner of his blood-smeared mouth—but now it was edged with caution.
Cedric's voice rose.
Each syllable **burned**.
> "Let your judgment descend through me.
> Let it pierce the darkness, cleanse the corrupt,
> and strike down the abomination before me!"
He planted his feet.
His body trembled—but it did not waver.
Lightning surged violently, coiling around his limbs, screaming across his armor in blinding arcs. The ground itself seemed to answer, veins of light spreading outward like roots, carving glowing paths through the void.
The air **quivered**.
Draven's storm of shadows wavered, bending beneath an invisible force.
Cedric raised his blade high. Electricity arced from its tip, his aura flaring until it rivaled the sun itself.
Shadows writhed around Draven, **pressing back against the light**.
Cedric did not hesitate.
Every heartbeat.
Every breath.
Every shard of pain—
—only sharpened his focus.
> "BY YOUR LIGHT…
> I CAST JUDGMENT!"
The blade fell.
Lightning detonated in a blinding torrent, tearing through the darkness, cleaving shadow and air alike. A **wave of scorching, divine energy** erupted outward, each spark singing with the fury of a goddess scorned.
Draven twisted, shadows folding around him like smoke.
He **dodged**—
—but not cleanly.
The force slammed into him, driving him back. The edge grazed his armor, carving a shallow line across his side. Sparks and blood mingled in the rain-soaked void.
Cedric staggered, breath ragged—but his resolve **did not break**.
> "I… will not fall.
> Not to a demon like you!"
Lightning erupted again, engulfing him completely—a storm of divine judgment made flesh. Draven was forced back, step by step, dark tendrils splintering beneath the goddess's power as he fought defensively for the first time.
Thunder cracked.
The void screamed.
And in that storm, Draven realized something he hadn't before:
Raw speed and shadow mastery **might not be enough**.
Cedric's eyes burned as he fixed Draven with a stare of unyielding fury.
> "Face me and fall—
> or be torn apart by a light you cannot comprehend."
The clash teetered on the brink—**light against shadow, fury against calm, divine judgment against demonic intent**—and the void itself seemed to hold its breath.
---
Draven's movements **blurred**.
A stretched shadow flickered across the battlefield as he danced through arcs of lightning raining down from Cedric's blade. Every swing, every thrust, threaded through the divine storm—but his mind **raced**.
*What the hell…?*
The bastard had just **prayed mid-fight**, and now the air felt heavier, the lightning sharper, the pressure around him almost tangible.
His instincts screamed.
*He's faster. More focused. He's powering up while fighting—damn it… this is going to waste time.*
Draven twisted through a diagonal slash, missing Cedric's glowing blade by **a hair**. Sparks burst where shadow brushed lightning, sending sharp shocks rippling through the soaked ground.
He countered instantly, flicking his wrist and launching a dagger from his shadow sheath straight at Cedric's chest.
Cedric didn't flinch.
He met it head-on—lightning coiling around his blade as he deflected it with a hiss of burning energy.
Draven's grin twitched.
*So that's how it is. Power from prayer. Annoying… damn annoying.*
He slipped behind Cedric in an instant, shadows snapping him forward as both blades slashed toward the knight's back.
Cedric reacted faster than expected.
He pivoted in a flash of holy aura, the blades grazing armor instead of flesh.
*Damn it.*
Draven reassessed mid-motion, shadows rippling tighter around him.
*I can't brute-force this anymore. He's enhanced. He's not the same knight.*
Lightning roared as Cedric countered, thrusting his blade forward. The air screamed, blasting Draven back—but he didn't stop. Shadows stretched beneath his feet, carrying him forward in a fluid, predatory glide.
*No time. I can't stall.*
He leapt, spinning through the strikes, delivering a testing slash—measuring the reach, the limits of Cedric's newfound power.
Sparks and blood mixed in the darkness.
Fast enough to blur.
Brutal enough to kill.
And in that instant, Draven understood it completely:
**This was no longer a simple duel.**
Cedric's prayer had raised the stakes—and hesitation would be fatal.
Draven bared his teeth, letting the shadows wrap tighter around him, and muttered under his breath:
*Fine… if you want to power up mid-fight—*
*—then I'll make sure every second of it costs you.*