Gualter brought his blade down with a roar.

  The strike landed cleanly, steel against steel, and bounced away as if he had struck stone. The entity did not so much as shift its stance, not even a fraction of an inch.

  Gualter staggered back, disbelief flashing across his face.

  Conrad charged next, teeth clenched, sword driving for the entity’s side. The senior knight’s blow met the same fate, deflected effortlessly, the impact ringing through his arms as though the force had been returned to him instead.

  He barely had time to recover before another rushed in.

  Then another.

  And another.

  Dozens tried, some in pairs, others alone, blades slashing, shields raised, attacks layered in desperation. The entity moved among them with impossible precision, its body blurring just enough to deny every opening. It did not strike back. It did not need to.

  Spears and javelins were hurled from behind the line.

  They disintegrated midair, splintering into ash before ever reaching their target.

  Mages lifted their staves and hurled fireballs toward the entity. The flames surged forward, then scattered, unraveling as if torn apart by an unseen current. Not a single spark touched him.

  The clearing filled with smoke, cinders, and the sound of labored breathing.

  Still, the entity remained where it stood.

  A hush began to creep through the men, the dawning understanding that they were losing against something that had not yet chosen to fight.

  When they finally exhausted themselves, the possessed Tristan looked around, then narrowed his gaze, unamused.

  “You Aurelithians have been breeding for centuries, and all you can do is shout and swing your blades like madmen,” he said, then pointed his sword toward the mages. “At least those delicate ones over there can do something different, I suppose.”

  Matthew stepped back and swallowed, trembling slightly.

  “Conrad, sir, he’s—this creature… it isn’t human.”

  “You’ve only just figured that out?” the entity asked, brow raised. “Are you serious?”

  It glanced around again, maintaining its annoyed expression.

  “No wonder your kind has gone nowhere after all this time.”

  He finally moved, slowly raising his blade.

  “I suppose it can’t be helped if some humans are born slow.”

  “Or maybe,” it said, the sword leveling toward them, “you simply haven’t been pushed hard enough.”

  Meanwhile, two mages knelt beside Edmund, the prince curled slightly on the ground, breath coming in ragged gasps as his body trembled from the pain.

  Blood seeped through the cracks in his shattered armor, dark against the ash-stained soil.

  “Do you know how to heal?” one mage asked, panic bleeding into his voice. “I—I’m not well versed in the field.”

  “My knowledge is limited as well,” the other replied, already extending a trembling hand over Edmund’s torso. “But I can try.”

  He swallowed. “We have to stop any internal bleeding first before it spreads.”

  A faint glow gathered around his palm, unsteady, flickering as another impact echoed nearby. Edmund groaned, his fingers digging into the earth as the pain flared anew.

  “Hold still, Your Highness,” the mage urged softly, more to himself than to the prince. “Please… just hold on.”

  Around them, the battle nearby escalated as the entity finally went on the offensive, cutting down anyone who approached him with ease.

  “This is disappointing,” the entity said, cutting a soldier’s throat.

  He paused, then tilted his head slightly.

  “Actually, no. It isn’t.”

  He grabbed another soldier by the jaw and lifted him effortlessly from the ground.

  “You see, I just remembered I wagered against you,” he continued, almost casually. “And I was promised a fine bottle of wine if I was right.”

  A faint smile tugged at his lips.

  “I imagine it’s already waiting.”

  He snapped the soldier’s neck and tossed the body aside as if it weighed nothing.

  A mage hurled a fireball at him.

  The entity answered with a single, horizontal slash. An arc of smoke and cinders tore through the air, shearing the flames apart before continuing onward. The mage barely had time to scream before it struck him.

  Javelins and spears followed, dozens at once.

  The entity opened his free hand in response.

  Above him, obsidian lances formed in an instant, hanging for a heartbeat before raining down in a merciless volley. Soldiers fell where they stood, pierced through armor and flesh alike.

  Those who rushed him were cut down, each strike a precise, final blow.

  Looking around in desperation, Conrad seized a nearby soldier by the arm.

  “Run back to the camp!” he barked. “Ride as fast as you can to the capital! Get reinforcements and warn everyone!”

  The soldier nodded and sprinted for the edge of the clearing.

  The entity noticed him at once.

  It lifted a single hand.

  Cinders thickened at the clearing’s edge, black smoke spiraling upward and inward, sealing the air itself into a vast, burning dome. Heat surged instantly, embers roaring to life wherever the smoke touched flesh or steel.

  The fleeing soldier made contact with the dome and was incinerated almost immediately.

  Conrad froze, eyes widening in horror.

  “We are here to test you,” the entity said, “and running away means you’ve proven yourselves a failure. I suggest you stay here and keep fighting instead.”

  It vanished into dark mist, then reappeared before a soldier, driving its blade through him without hesitation.

  “That will give you a small chance to survive, at least.”

  While the carnage ensued, the mages were finally able to heal Edmund’s wounds, albeit only partially, enough for the prince’s eyes to flutter open.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  One of the mages leaned closer. “Your Highness… we’re almost done. Just a little more.”

  “But how will we get him out of here?” another asked, glancing at the burning dome. “That thing has trapped us.”

  Edmund groaned and slowly pushed himself upright. His gaze found the entity cutting through his men with effortless brutality. Rage and terror twisted across his face.

  “Highness, please remain here until your wounds are fully healed,” the mage urged, breathless from the strain. “We’ll find a way to get you out after, somehow.”

  “We could try tearing the dome open,” another said frantically. “Or digging beneath—”

  “I’m not going anywhere!” Edmund cut in as he forced himself to his feet. “I’m not running away!”

  “But, Prince Edmund,” the healer protested, “that monster is invincible. You’ll be killed—”

  Edmund didn’t wait for him to finish.

  He seized his sword and marched straight toward the entity.

  The mages tried to stop Edmund, chasing after him despite their exhaustion.

  “Highness!” one cried.

  The entity was about to drive its blade into a soldier it had just slammed to the ground when Edmund’s voice cut through the chaos.

  “Tristan!”

  It paused then turned to see the prince standing a few paces away, bent forward, panting, one arm still wrapped tightly around his stomach.

  “Snap out of it!” Edmund shouted. “Don’t let that thing control you!”

  The entity smiled faintly at the sight of him.

  “Your mages did well healing your injuries,” it said, ignoring Edmund’s plea.

  Its gaze drifted past him, settling on the two mages who had followed, now collapsed to their knees behind the prince, utterly spent.

  “But it seems that is the extent of their skill.”

  The entity raised its sword.

  Edmund’s eyes widened.

  “DON’T!”

  The blade came down.

  A wave of blackened smoke and burning cinders tore through the air, swallowing the mages whole. Their cries were cut short as the fire consumed them.

  Edmund could only stare, frozen in horror.

  “Do not feel sorrow, Edmund,” the entity said calmly. “It’s not like you’ve lost anything of worth.”

  Edmund gritted his teeth, his grip tightening around his sword until his knuckles burned. He snapped his head toward the entity and lunged without hesitation, tears streaking freely down his face.

  “You—you will pay for that!”

  The entity caught the blow with a single, effortless motion. Steel rang once.

  It didn’t flinch.

  “I must tell you,” it said, stepping forward and forcing Edmund back with sheer pressure alone. “I’ve already heard that thousands of times.”

  The pressure did not relent. Step by step, Edmund was driven to his knees.

  Then the force spiked.

  Edmund was hurled aside, skidding across the ashen ground. He barely managed to brace himself before pain tore through his body again. He tried to rise,

  but the entity was already there.

  It loomed over him, eyes gleaming as its weapon hovered inches from Edmund’s chest. “And this, I’ve done millions.”

  “Get away from him!” a man shouted.

  To Edmund’s left, Matthew was already charging, sword aimed.

  The entity turned toward him with mild disinterest and leveled one arm.

  An obsidian lance formed at his side.

  Edmund’s breath caught. “Matthew—watch out!”

  It was too late.

  The entity closed his hand into a fist.

  Matthew stopped mid-stride. Edmund’s breath hitched.

  A sickening thud echoed through the clearing as the lance punched straight through him.

  Yet, the soldier didn’t fall.

  His teeth were clenched so tightly his jaw trembled, both hands locked around his sword. With a ragged breath, he forced one foot forward.

  “This—this is not…” he coughed, blood staining his lips. “…going to stop me!”

  He tried to run, but was stopped as another sickening thud rang out, another lance pierced through him.

  Matthew’s body jolted, then collapsed to his knees. His sword slipped from his grasp as he lifted his head, eyes already dimming, and found Edmund.

  “It was…” he breathed, voice breaking, “…an honor… to serve you… Prince Edmund…”

  His strength gave out. Matthew fell forward and stopped moving.

  Something inside Edmund snapped.

  Rage and grief surged together as he lunged, moving the entity’s blade aside with his own and tried striking with everything he had left. The entity turned and drove its palm into Edmund’s chest.

  The impact hurled the prince across the clearing.

  The entity watched as the impact sent the prince skidding across the ground.

  It lingered there without moving its gaze.

  “I wonder what kind of wine is waiting for me,” it mused. “Hopefully not that stale one they gave me last time.”

  It took a step toward Edmund when another soldier charged from the right.

  Edmund turned just in time to see Conrad rushing forward.

  “You will not see the light of day!” Conrad shouted, fury tearing through his voice.

  The entity turned its head, eyes dull with boredom.

  Conrad’s blade clashed against its own. Crimson light flared along the knight’s sword, much like Edmund’s when he had drawn upon his power. Conrad pressed the attack, striking again and again with inhuman speed, each blow fueled by rage and resolve.

  The entity blocked every strike lazily, each one bounced off.

  “That’s not the outcome I’m seeing,” it responded calmly,

  “judging by how this has gone so far.”

  —The dome flashed white—

  Conrad snarled and charged once more.

  This time, the entity moved.

  Its sword swept outward in a single, effortless motion, cutting clean through Conrad’s blade, and the knight himself.

  The knight staggered, then fell to his knees.

  The entity stepped toward him.

  —The dome flashed white again, then again,

  the intervals growing shorter, the light pulsing—

  “Conrad…” Edmund choked, forcing himself forward.

  “No… please…”

  The prince could only watch as the entity raised its sword once again.

  The knight turned his head.

  He met Edmund’s gaze and offered a faint, tired smile.

  “Prince Edmund,” Conrad said softly, breath failing him,

  “do not forget… the crown’s burden…”

  The blade fell, cutting through him.

  Edmund’s breath caught as the knight staggered, another dark line blooming across his chest before he fell to the ground.

  The entity looked down at the fallen knight for a moment. “You were at least more capable than the rest of these worms.”

  Edmund remained where he had fallen, frozen while the entity turned toward a nearby soldier struggling to stand.

  “Conrad… Matthew… everyone…” Edmund whispered, their final words echoing relentlessly in his mind.

  “I—I failed…” Edmund choked, his voice breaking. “I failed you all… again…”

  His eyes fell shut as tears spilled freely once more,

  then the dome flashed white again, brighter than before, thunder cracking so violently it seemed to tear the world apart.

  Time stopped.

  Edmund opened his eyes.

  Everything, everyone, stood frozen. Even his own breath felt suspended in his chest.

  “My deepest apologies, Prince Edmund,” a familiar, commanding voice said. “It took me some time to break through this bastard’s barrier.”

  Edmund turned, heart pounding. There was no one.

  “Who—who’s there?” he asked, his voice hoarse. “Wait… it’s you, from before.”

  “That is correct,” the voice replied. “I am here to help you stop this scoundrel.”

  Edmund shook his head weakly. “I can’t… I’m—I’m too weak…”

  “You are not weak,” the voice answered without hesitation. “Not by any definition.”

  Edmund stilled.

  “You survived an abomination that tried to break you,” it continued. “You led your men to victory against the Draemhyr. You stood your ground against all those who sought to bring you down.”

  A brief pause.

  “But there are limits to what one man can overcome alone.”

  The prince lifted his head.

  “And that’s why I am here to offer you aid,” the voice said. “I will lend you my mana, my soul, and draw out the fullest extent of your power. But you must understand this first—”

  “It will come at a cost.”

  Edmund drew a slow, shaky breath, and straightened despite the pain. “I don’t care what it takes!” he said quietly. “I’ll do anything to stop this monster!”

  The voice hesitated.

  “Becoming one with me, even for a moment, may shorten your lifespan.”

  Edmund’s throat tightened.

  “And this can be done only once,” the voice continued. “If we attempt it again, it will kill you. Should a similar conflict arise in the future, I will not be able to lend you my aid.”

  Edmund looked around, at the carnage, at Conrad.

  The knight’s lesson echoed in his mind.

  The prince straightened and rose to his feet.

  “Lend me your soul,” Edmund said quietly to the unseen voice. “Please! Give me the power I need!”

  The answer came instantly.

  Lightning tore through the dome in a deafening crash, striking Edmund where he stood.

  Arcs of brilliant lightning erupted from his back, spiraling outward and wrapping around his body and his sword alike. The air screamed as the energy surged, then steadied, shaping itself around him.

  Edmund opened his eyes.

  They burned with a deep, luminous blue.

  “Varhathor!” the voice thundered.

  The entity, preparing to strike down another soldier, froze. Slowly, it turned.

  The voice rang out again from beyond the dome, no longer restrained.

  “You are done toying with these people’s lives!”

  The lightning surrounding Edmund flared violently before condensing on his back.

  Varhathor’s gaze sharpened. “Saevnir’s…” he whispered.

  Edmund raised his sword, lightning still coursing along its edge.

  “I will defeat you!” he said, voice steady despite the storm raging around him. “I won’t let you take another life!”

  Varhathor studied him, ignoring the soldier he was about to kill completely.

  “So,” he murmured, “it is your power that sleeps in that blood.”

  A hint of amusement crept into his tone.

  “Fascinating.”

  He swayed his sword to his side. Dark smoke and cinders unfurled behind him, mirroring the stormbound arcs surrounding Edmund. Fiery amber light bled along Varhathor’s form and blade alike.

  The two locked eyes, sky and bloodlust facing one another.

  Slowly, Varhathor’s smile widened into a full grin.

  “I will take you on.”