Demon Evolution System

Chapter 30

Miles tightened his grip on the dagger. “We’ll see who survives,” he muttered as he crouched slightly, dagger in hand, muscles coiled like a predator ready to spring. The Death Knights reached striking distance. Without another word, he charged, his footfalls silent against the stone.

The lich drifted higher into the air, skeletal frame silhouetted against the dim glow of necrotic light, amusement oozing from every deliberate movement.

Its massive broadsword carved through the air in a brutal diagonal arc, the cursed edge aimed to cleave Miles in two from shoulder to hip. Miles dropped low at the last instant, the blade whistling overhead with enough force to send sparks erupting as it grazed the stone wall behind him.

He rolled forward, momentum carrying him beneath the knight’s guard, and slashed upward at its armored leg. The dagger scraped against enchanted steel, sparks bursting outward as the vibration rattled through his wrist.

The Death Knight did not falter.

Its balance remained perfect, stance unbroken, as though the strike had never landed.

Before Miles could disengage, another knight lunged from the side. A war hammer descended like an executioner’s anvil. Miles leapt backward, barely clearing the impact as the hammer shattered the stone floor where he had stood moments earlier. Cracks spiderwebbed outward, fragments of black stone blasting into the air.

A third Death Knight attacked from behind.

Miles twisted, rolling sideways as a long sword passed within inches of his neck, the blade slicing the air with a shrill whistle. It crashed into the wall, stone exploding outward like shrapnel, shards tearing across Miles’ exposed skin.

Pain flared—but he stayed moving.

A spear thrust came next, lightning-fast, aimed directly for his skull. Miles tilted his head aside by a fraction, the spearhead passing so close he felt cold metal brush his cheek. The knight reacted instantly, wrenching the weapon sideways in a follow-up slash meant to sever his neck.

Miles dropped his entire body low, the spear passing overhead. His eyes locked onto a brief opening—unguarded chest plating.

He lunged.

The dagger flashed forward, slicing through the air toward the knight’s torso—but steel met steel as the knight twisted just enough to deflect the blow.

The corridor shook violently as another Death Knight seized the moment.

An axe roared toward Miles from his blind side.

Instinct screamed.

Miles raised his dagger to block.

The collision was thunderous.

Steel slammed against steel with a deafening boom, the sheer force of the impact driving Miles down onto one knee. Pain screamed through his arm, bones rattling beneath the shock.

Before he could recover, a metal-clad boot slammed into his chest.

Miles was sent flying backward.

His body smashed into the stone wall with bone-jarring force, the impact driving the air from his lungs in a strangled gasp. He barely had time to register the pain before two Death Knights charged again, blades already descending toward him in synchronized arcs.

“Damn it…” Miles growled.

He rolled aside just as steel crashed into the stone where his head had been.

A hammer strike slammed into the floor beside him, unleashing a shockwave that buckled his legs. Debris exploded outward, chunks of shattered stone tearing past him like shrapnel. He tumbled, narrowly slipping beneath another mace swing that would have crushed his skull.

The corridor erupted into chaos.

Metal screamed against metal. Stone shattered. The deafening cacophony reverberated endlessly, like thunder trapped inside a sealed tomb.

Pain lanced through Miles’ arms and legs, but he forced himself upright.

I can’t stop.

Every second I hesitate… I die.

A Death Knight attacked from his flank, halberd sweeping low. Miles pivoted sharply, dagger slicing into the joint of its armor. Sparks sprayed violently as enchanted metal resisted—but the opening was enough.

He drove his blade into the gap beneath the knight’s arm.

A mailed fist slammed into his ribs in response.

Miles was hurled backward, breath ripped from his lungs as he struck the ground hard, vision swimming.

Another halberd screamed toward his neck.

Miles rolled, the blade passing through the space his head had occupied a heartbeat earlier. He sprang to his feet, slashing at the weapon’s shaft, deflecting it just enough to prevent impalement.

Then they closed in.

Two knights.

Four.

Six.

The battlefield dissolved into pure mayhem.

Weapons clanged endlessly, forming a relentless symphony of steel and fury. Miles ducked beneath an axe swing, barely avoiding decapitation, only for a sword to crash into his side. Armor shattered. Blood sprayed.

A shield slammed into his face, snapping his head sideways.

Above, the lich clapped slowly, skeletal hands echoing mock applause.

“Yes,” it purred. “Struggle. Bleed.”

Miles ignored it.

He fought like a cornered beast—but the Death Knights were no beasts. Their movements were calculated, coordinated, merciless. Every strike was deliberate. Every opening exploited.

He blocked, parried, dodged—sometimes by instinct alone. A blade grazed his thigh. A mace crushed into his shoulder, nearly dislocating it. He retaliated with savage stabs, slashes aimed at joints, visors, weak points—yet the pressure never relented.

He was losing.

The lich hovered closer, skull tilting in cruel amusement.

“So much effort,” it mocked. “So much struggle. You will break soon.”

Pain flared white-hot as another sword tore across his arm. Miles clenched his teeth.

I won’t break.

I can’t.

Miles muttered, breathing heavily as his gaze locked on the death knight marching towards him.