Firebolts. From the left. From the right. Everywhere.
I dodge, sliding across the smooth stone floor of the corridor, feeling the wave of heat singeing my eyelashes. I storm into the hall. Hide behind an overturned table.
Kai enters calmly. His footsteps echo through the room.
"Come out, little one!" calls Kai. His voice reverberates off the walls.
I need weapons. Real weapons. Not this monster of a sword. My gaze falls on the window. The armory. In the courtyard. There are knives there. Daggers. Something I can use.
I sprint forward, the sword clenched tight. "There you are!" Kai shouts.
I shove mana into my legs and jump— Straight through the closed window.
CRASH.
Stained glass explodes into a thousand shards. Cold night air slams into my face. Second floor. A fall from this height will shatter my legs. Mid-air, I drive the sword into the wall. Steel screams against stone. The resistance nearly tears my arms from their sockets, but it slows the descent. I let go just before hitting the ground.
I land hard. Roll. My shoulder screams in protest, but nothing snaps.
Kai appears at the shattered window above. He spots me in the courtyard. He doesn't hesitate. He doesn't climb. He just jumps.
"Now I've got you!"
He drops like a bomb. No technique. No roll.
CRUNCH.
He slams into the cobblestone. Dust erupts. Cracks spiderweb through the ground, a small crater forming from the impact. The sound of snapping bone makes me want to retch. Both legs are bent at impossible angles. Shinbones pierce through skin.
"Ohh…" he groans, looking down at his ruined lower body. "I thought they'd hold." He grins. "Fine. I'll give you a three-minute head start."
I'm already gone—hidden behind a tree. From the shadows, I watch. Steam rises from his legs. Flesh shifts. Bones grind back into place with a wet crunch. Tendons knit together. Skin crawls over the wound. Less than ten seconds later, he stands.
"Wow," he mutters, hopping in place. "Incredible. The artifact doesn't just boost my magic—it supercharges regeneration too. Unexpected… but better." He stretches. "Okay, Kael! Change of plans! You don't get three minutes anymore! I'm coming!"
He doesn't protect his body. Why would he? He's immortal as long as he has mana—and that necklace gives him an ocean of it. But immortality breeds carelessness.
I glance at the armory across the courtyard. Come on, idiot. Follow me.
I sprint openly. "Got you!" he roars, charging.
I storm into the armory. The smell of oil and leather hits me. Racks of spears, swords, axes. I don't hide deep inside. I stay right by the entrance—perched atop a shelf, in the blind spot.
Kai rushes in. Stops in the center of the room. Searching. "Where are you?" he sings.
I don't answer. I throw. A knife I grabbed in passing. Silent. Precise. It strikes the side of his neck, burying itself deep in his throat.
"Gah—!" Kai clutches his neck. Blood sprays between his fingers as he coughs red onto the floor. "Won't you come out…" he gurgles, the wound already stitching itself shut, "…and give me the mercy kill?"
"I know that won't kill you," I say from the shadows. My voice echoes from everywhere.
"Not bad," he croaks. His voice clears instantly. "But now I know where you are."
He whirls right—toward the sound. A fireball erupts from his hand, detonating against a weapon rack. But I'm not there. I moved while speaking. I come from his left.
I'm small. Fast. Two daggers in hand. I don't aim for the throat. I aim for the mechanics.
I slide across the floor. My left dagger flashes—finds the tendon of his extended weapon arm. A wet, horrible snap. His triceps goes slack. The arm drops uselessly.
I'm already moving again, diving low. The second dagger sinks just above his heels. I pull hard. The Achilles tendons tear.
Kai tries to turn. Tries to breathe fire. But his legs don't respond. The wiring between muscle and bone is cut. He collapses like a wet sack, face-first into the floor.
I land behind him. He's prone. Arms useless. Legs paralyzed. He can't turn. Checkmate.
I raise the dagger for the final strike—straight into the base of his skull. Destroying the brain should end even a demon. But I underestimated his magic. He doesn't need hands.
"DIE!" he roars into the ground. He opens his mouth. Not a beam. An explosion.
A massive surge of fire erupts beneath him, engulfing his entire body. Heat crashes over me like a solid wall. I abort instantly, leaping backward, away from the living inferno.
Kai staggers to his feet and runs out, screaming. I watch him. Wow. His tendons are already healing. But this—this he won't recover from easily. There's no well. No water nearby.
But Kai solves it differently. He charges straight toward the stables—toward the manure heap. He throws himself into the filth. Mud, waste, wet sludge. He rolls in it, smothering the flames with his own body.
I follow slowly. I have time.
When the smoke finally clears, Kai lies in the muck, breathing heavily. His clothes are gone. His hair is gone. His skin is a mess of blistered red and blackened crust. I stop a few meters away. My face remains blank.
"Wow," I say dryly. "I didn't expect such a… creative solution."
He flinches. Tries to rise, slips in the mud. He's shaking with rage. "You—"
I cut him off, laughing softly. Coldly. "Aren't you going to regenerate?" I ask. "This really isn't fun otherwise. Honestly…" I look him up and down. "You're disgusting. You stink of burned flesh and shit." I tilt my head. "You can't even tell what gender you are anymore."
Kai trembles. Veins bulge along his charred neck. His fists clench so tight the crust on his knuckles splits open. He's about to explode. I wait. Barely holding back laughter. Come on. Use the artifact. Heal yourself completely. Burn your life force just to soothe your pride.
But the explosion never comes. Kai closes his eyes. He breathes in. Once. Twice. He swallows his rage. Forces his body to calm.
"I know your plan now," he says quietly. He opens his eyes. They're clear. "You want me to overextend. You want me to waste my regeneration and magic so the artifact has to give me more—at the cost of my life force." He twists his lipless face into a disturbing grin. "That's it, isn't it?"
I raise an eyebrow. "Good," I say. "You finally caught on." I gesture at his body. "But it's already working. Look at you. You're avoiding a full heal."
He is. Only his eyes and the tendons needed to move have regenerated. The burns. The scars. They remain. He's conserving energy.
"That means you've already used too much," I note. "You're absolutely right," he replies calmly.
He deactivates the artifact. The red emerald necklace stops glowing. His mana—once an ocean—shrinks. Now it's merely the mana of a talented demon. Average. But stable.
He stands. No longer terrifying through overwhelming power. Now dangerous through focus.
He walks past me, ignoring me completely, and picks up a simple steel sword near the stable door. "I'm always too impulsive," he mutters, as if I'm not there. "I never should have used the artifact. I only did it out of humiliation. Being hurt like that by a human child… it blinded me."
He turns to face me. The sword rests easily in his grip. No flames. No glow.
"You don't even have an ability," he says, laughing softly. A genuine laugh. No madness. "I'll beat you like this. With steel and skill."
His face is a burned mask. His eyes are razor-sharp. No anger. No rage. Only killing intent.
Tch, I think, tensing up. He learned to control his impulses. That's bad. An angry god is easy to trick. A calm soldier is a real problem.
He raises his sword. "Show me what you can do without your tricks, human."