Demon Core Exorcist

10. Trial of Twin Paths: The Echo Knight

The air inside the new chamber was colder.

Nathan stepped through the arched doorway, and the stone slammed shut behind him. This was not like the other trials. There were no swinging blades, no shifting tiles, no cover.

The arena was a wide, perfect circle of smooth black stone. The walls curved upward, vanishing into darkness. There was no door on the other side.

Only silence.

Then the voice came, deeper than before, with a weight that pressed into his chest:

"To wield strength without speed is to be caught. To wield speed without strength is to be broken. Show me you can be both."

Nathan stopped for a moment, the voice in his head giving him information, and every sentence it made had a profound meaning, something that Nathan admired.

From the centre of the arena, the ground rippled. Stone flowed upward like liquid, forming a shape.

It was a man.

Same height as Nathan. Same build. Even the same face.

But its eyes glowed faint silver, and in its hands were two daggers, one with a heavy, jagged blade that radiated force, the other thin and sleek, its edge shimmering faintly.

Nathan took an instinctive step back. The thing moved in perfect unison with him.

The Echo Knight.

It lunged without warning.

Nathan barely had time to raise his arms before the first strike came — the heavy dagger swinging low toward his ribs. He sidestepped, but the Knight followed instantly, spinning and bringing the thinner blade up toward his throat.

He ducked under it and retreated three steps. The Knight mirrored him exactly, three steps back, same stance, same weight on its heels.

Nathan clenched his fists. 'So it's going to copy me'

Nathan didn't care; he had something that the knight didn't have: he had external help.

He immediately activated both skills, Commander's build and Dash. He felt his muscle density increase, and at the same time, he felt light on his feet. It was weird to feel them at the same time, but it was needed.

This time, he could feel the toll they held on his body was stronger than before, and he had no more than two minutes to finish this battle, or he might die.

They closed again. Nathan faked a jab with his right hand, then swung his left. The Knight did the same, but this time, their blows collided mid-swing. The force rattled through Nathan's arms.

He felt it, even with the increase in his strength; it was still the same.

It wasn't just copying his movements. It had his speed. His strength.

And if he tried to push harder, it would match him.

They traded blows in a tight circle, each strike meeting its twin in the middle. Sparks flew as the daggers clashed, but Nathan didn't have the weapons; the Knight did. Every block jarred his bones. Every dodge was a hair's breadth from being too late.

After a dozen exchanges, Nathan's breath was already coming hard.

He tried rushing it. Bad idea. The Knight rushed back with the same timing, meeting him in the centre with brutal precision. The heavy dagger smashed into his guard, throwing him backwards.

Pain burned in his forearms.

Nathan spat on the floor. "Alright, you want to play copycat? Let's see what happens when I mix it up."

The next time they met, he went low, aiming for its legs, but instead of following through, he twisted up into a rising strike. The Knight matched the first motion, but its follow-up lagged just enough for Nathan to graze its shoulder.

Not much. But it was something.

The Knight tilted its head, almost as if it were learning.

They clashed again. Nathan threw in feints, sudden shifts, using footwork from the Path of Agility to break the mirror rhythm. For a while, it worked; he landed a hit to the ribs, another to the forearm.

But the more he fought, the more the Knight adapted. Soon it was matching even the feints, anticipating the shifts.

Sweat dripped into Nathan's eyes. His arms ached. His breathing was ragged.

The Knight, of course, didn't tire.

Another rush. Another clash. The heavy dagger came down hard, and Nathan blocked high, but the thin blade was already sliding in low. It cut a shallow line across his thigh before he could leap back.

Pain shot up his leg.

He staggered, and the Knight pressed forward, both blades flashing in relentless rhythm. Nathan backpedalled, blocking desperately, until his heel hit the arena's edge.

The Knight raised both daggers.

And something changed.

The weapons… called to him.

The heavy dagger's outline glowed faintly in his vision, as if drawing his eyes to it. The thin blade shimmered with a pull of its own.

The voice returned, softer but urgent:

"Gravemind. Fleetcut. They are nothing apart. Take them, and be both."

As the Knight swung, Nathan stepped in instead of away. He caught the heavy dagger's wrist with both hands, twisted hard, and wrenched it free. The Knight staggered, the first time it had lost balance.

The moment the hilt touched his palm, Gravemind's weight settled into him, not heavy, but dense, like it was full of barely-contained power.

The Knight slashed with the thin blade. Nathan blocked with Gravemind, the impact sending a shockwave that forced the Knight back.

It came again, faster now, the thin blade blurring. Nathan ducked under one strike, stepped in, and grabbed the second dagger's hilt mid-swing. The Knight resisted for half a second, then the weapon slid free like it had always belonged to Nathan.

Fleetcut was impossibly light, as if it wanted to move before he did. The moment he held it, his whole body felt sharper, faster.

The Knight froze.

Then it charged.

Now they were even.

No, Nathan was more than even. Gravemind's strikes landed with crushing force, making the Knight stumble with each block. Fleetcut danced through the air, slipping past defences before the Knight could react.

The fight became a storm. Nathan struck high with Gravemind, forcing a block, then sliced low with Fleetcut, the thin blade slipping between the Knight's guard.

He weaved speed into strength, strength into speed, Fleetcut creating the openings, Gravemind punishing them with devastating impact.

The Knight tried to copy him. It couldn't.

It had only ever been able to mirror one Nathan at a time. Now there were two in one, a fighter who was both hammer and arrow, uncatchable and unstoppable.

Blow after blow landed. Sparks sprayed across the arena floor. The Knight's defences cracked, its movements slowing under the relentless assault.

Nathan felt the rhythm now. Strength, speed. Speed, strength. Gravemind's force knocked the Knight's blade high, Fleetcut's precision cut deep into its side.

The silver glow in its eyes flickered.

Nathan pressed harder. One last combination.

Fleetcut flashed up in a feint, the Knight's guard shifted high. Gravemind swung low with a bone-shaking smash, shattering the Knight's stance. Fleetcut came down in a final, swift arc.

The Knight staggered, both daggers gone from its hands, its body splitting into motes of fading silver light.

Silence.

Nathan stood in the centre of the arena, breathing hard, both daggers in hand. Gravemind pulsed with slow, steady power in his right. Fleetcut hummed with restless speed in his left.

The voice returned, deep with finality:

"You are both. You are whole. Gravemind and Fleetcut are yours."

The arena floor shifted, revealing a new path forward.

The daggers in both hands glowed slightly before fading away. Natham looked at the back of both palms to see what looked like a tattoo. The tattoo on his right hand was of a small dagger with a sleek blade, while that on his left hand was of a small dagger with a larger, more jagged blade. 

Nathan just exerted a little bit of his will, making the two daggers appear in his hands. He could feel a deep connection with them as if they were made specifically for him.

And a smile appeared on his face as he stepped through the corridor into the light.