Fifteen ghosts attacked at once.
There was no warning. No hesitancy. Just a black wave that swept in from all directions—walls, ceiling, floor—like a shadow tsunami.
Raven reacted instinctively—Demon Flame flared in both hands, a black-red flame barrier surrounding his body in a one-meter radius.
The first three ghosts to touch the barrier burst into flames—a deafening, high-pitched screech, their forms disintegrating into slowly falling black ash.
But the remaining twelve didn't stop.
They attacked from different angles—coordinated, calculated. Two from the left with claws extended, three from the right swooping low for a leg sweep, four from above with a dive-bomb trajectory.
"MOVE!" Azaelith shouted in Raven's head.
Raven activated Demon Step—focusing on a point 5 meters back, near the wall.
Reality blinked.
he appeared at the target location—ghosts whose dives missed, hit the concrete floor with a cracking impact.
But their coordination was frightening—instantly adjusting. The sweeping ghost pivoted mid-attack, sliding toward Raven's new position. The ones from the left and right converged.
Raven didn't have time for Demon Step—it has a 2-minute cooldown. He pivoted, sweeping his leg with enhanced strength, and kicked the first approaching ghost.
His foot pierced the shadow form—not solid—but with resistance. The ghost was thrown several meters, its form flickering like TV static.
"They're semi-corporeal!" Azaelith's voice was urgent. "Physical attacks work but are ineffective. Fire is your best weapon!"
Raven compressed Demon Flame in his right hand, forming a fist-sized fireball, and threw it at the flying ghost.
Direct hit.
The ghost burned—shrieking, thrashing—then exploded into ash.
Ghost eliminated: 4 of 15.
But the rest didn't back down. They circled Raven with fluid movements, shadows moving like smoke, red-white eyes glowing in the darkness of the warehouse.
Then another attack.
This time, simultaneous attacks from five directions.
Raven summoned another flame barrier—but one of the ghosts was too fast, slipping through the gap in defense, claws raking across his left arm.
The pain was sharp—not just physical. Like something cold had touched his soul, drawing warmth out.
Energy drain.
"Fuck!" Raven hissed, jumping back, clutching his arm. Blood—his blood—seeped through his torn sleeve, but strangely, the wound was already closing. The healing factor kicked in, albeit slowly.
"Don't let them touch you!" Azaelith warned. "Each hit drains stamina more than physical damage!"
Noted.
Raven assessed the situation—five ghosts were still circling aggressively, the other seven hanging back, observing. Pack tactics. They're learning his pattern.
And stamina already dropping. Maintaining the flame barrier was exhausting. Fireball drained significant energy per shot.
He needed efficiency.
"Two o'clock, incoming!" Azaelith alerted.
Raven turned—ghost diving from the upper right. he sidestepped, grabbed the ghostly form mid-air with his left hand—surprisingly solid, like grabbing cold smoke—then ignited Demon Flame directly in his grip.
Ghost screamed, immolated from the inside out, disintegrating in seconds.
Ghost eliminated: 5 of 15.
"Better," Azaelith commented. "Close-range ignition is more efficient than fireball."
But action comes at a cost—two other ghosts exploited the opening, slashing from behind. Claws raked across Raven's back, across the contract marking.
Pain exploded—worse than before. Marking is a connection point—touching it hurt on a deeper level.
Raven stumbled forward, vision blurring slightly. Stamina dropped another notch.
"Behind you, NOW!"
Raven spun, backhanded punching with a flame-coated fist. Connecting with the lunging ghost, sending it flying into the wall. The impact cracked the concrete, the ghost stuck to the wall like a pinned insect.
Raven formed fireball—smaller, conserving energy—throw.
Ghost burn, ash.
Ghost eliminated: 6 of 15.
Breathing heavy now. Sweat mixed with blood on the face. Vision edges blurred from the combined drain—stamina, energy, blood loss despite healing.
Nine ghosts remained. Seven were still circling, two were in the back observing.
And at the warehouse entrance—the Alpha ghost stood still. Watching. Evaluating.
The chains on its body dragged across the floor with an echoing sound of scraping metal.
Raven forced his focus back on immediate threats. Seven ghosts were still hostile, and they were now more cautious—keeping their distance, probing defense with feint attacks.
They adapted.
"You're thinking too reactive," said Azaelith. "Stop waiting for them to attack. Control battlefield. Make them react to YOU."
Raven breathe—deep, controlled. Activate spiritual sight full.
World shift—overlay spiritual world becomes clearer. Ghosts are not just shadows now, but distinct forms with energy signatures. He can see movement patterns, predict trajectories.
One ghost on the left preparing to lunge—tension in the form is visible now.
Raven moves first.
Demon Step—cooldown completed—teleport right to the front of that ghost. Surprise attacks. Both hands ignite, grab ghost from both sides, clamp with vise grip.
Ignite full power.
Ghost scream, combust, gone.
Ghost eliminated: 7 of 15.
Immediately pivot—another ghost too close. Enhanced strength kick to core form, send it careening. Follow with fireball mid-flight.
Burn. Ash.
Ghost eliminated: 8 of 15.
Momentum shifts.
Raven is now aggressive. Two simultaneous ghost lunges—he drops low, sweep leg that penetrates their forms but disrupts coherence. They flicker. Vulnerable window—ignite both hands, double palm strike to each.
Burn. Burn.
Ghost eliminated: 10 of 15.
Five remain—and they finally show fear. Forms flicker faster, movement erratic. Pack coordination breaking.
But Raven's stamina hit the red zone. Demon Flame flickering in his hand, not stable. Breathing ragged. Multiple scratches across torso and arms—healing, but slow, drain additional energy.
Marking on back throbbing—overused.
"Conserve," Azaelith warned. "You're hitting your limit."
Five ghosts retreat slightly—regrouping near entrance. Behind them, Alpha ghost shift slightly. Interested now.
Raven stance defensive, flames in hand barely maintained. He needs to end this fast before it collapses.
Strategy.
He assesses remaining five—four lesser ghosts plus one slightly larger, darker. Mini-alpha. Likely coordinator for pack tactics.
Target priority.
"Coordinator first," Azaelith confirmed his thought. "Kill leader, rest scatter."
Raven internal node. Prep Demon Step—last charge before needing long cooldown. Aim for coordinator.
Wait for opening.
Four lesser ghosts lunge—predictable attack pattern now. Raven sidesteps, weaves, doesn't engage. Conserve stamina.
Coordinator hangs back—directing others, not attacking himself.
Mistake.
Raven feint stumble—deliberate. Act exhausted. Lesser ghosts converge, seeing weakness.
Coordinator move forward—oversight positioning for better command.
Now.
Demon Step—straight to coordinator, bypass lesser ghosts entirely.
Coordinator surprised—form flinch, tried to retreat.
Too late.
Raven both hands grab, full ignite—every remaining bit of Demon Flame pour into this.
Coordinator shriek—louder, more painful—form burning brighter. Strong enough to resist momentarily.
Raven grit teeth, push harder. Flames intensify—black-red becomes pure red, heat radiating violent.
BURN marking on back—overload warning.
Coordinator explode—burst of ash and energy that knocks Raven backwards.
Ghost eliminated: 11 of 15.
He lands hard, rolls, barely manages to stay upright.
Demon Flame extinguish completely. Hands smoking, skin reddened, stamina bottomed out.
Four lesser ghosts remaining—and without a coordinator, they panicked. Forms flickered erratically, movements disorganized.
Raven force-stand—legs shaking. No Demon Flame. No Demon Step. Only enhanced physicality.
But the ghosts didn't know his stamina was depleted.
He bluffed—stance aggressive, snarl, step forward.
Two ghosts immediately fled—gliding out of the warehouse through the walls, dissipated into the night.
The remaining two hesitated—then retreated. Slowly backing toward the entrance, forms flickering, ready to bolt.
Raven didn't chase. he couldn't. he barely stood.
Ghosts eliminated: 11 of 15. Remaining: 4 (2 fled, 2 retreating).
Heavy breathing. Vision swimming. Blood and sweat everywhere. Multiple wounds—healing, but slow, too slow.
Azaelith manifested beside him—transparent form looking... concerned?
"Enough," she said. "You pushed your limit. Retreat now. Live to fight tomorrow."
Raven wanted to agree—
But the Alpha ghost moved.