Shadow Born Legacy

Chapter 10: Last Stand

Kael's pulse pounded in his ears, the blood surging through him like a tidal wave, drowning everything else out. The figure before him moved with terrifying grace, the curved blade glinting in the dim light.

He wasn't human, not entirely his movements were too smooth, too deliberate, and his eyes.

Those cold, calculating eyes were filled with nothing but death. The last of the Shadowborne, the one Kael had not yet encountered, had finally shown his face.

The figure took another step forward, his blade raised, the wicked smile on his lips barely visible under his hood. “You’ve been a thorn in my side for too long, Kael.”

Kael's breathing rose in ragged gasps; the blood staining his clothes was heavy as his body fought to stay upright. The wild elixir that the enigmatic man had given him was a short-lived spurt of power, but it wasn't near enough.

His wounds were deep, and the sear in his muscles began burning steadily. His grip on the sword was slackening.

"Not today, you son of a bitch," he breathed with grim determination.

The figure's lips curled into a slow, predatory smile. "You're a stubborn one. I'll give you that."

Before Kael had a chance to react, the figure lunged, his blade a blur of motion. Instincts now took over as Kael twisted to the side, barely in time to dodge the strike the blade slicing across where his throat had been, just a beat before. He takes his turn, swinging up with his sword, aiming high for the ribs of the now-exposed target.

But the figure was too fast. He twisted midair, his foot hitting the ground with the grace of a dancer, and he was already back on his feet, his blade flashing as he parried Kael’s strike with effortless ease.

“Pathetic,” the figure taunted, his voice cold and cruel. “You’re not even worth the effort.”

Kael ground his teeth as he pushed forward, his sword coming down in a vicious arc. The figure blocked it again, the blades locking in a clash of brutal strength.

Sparks flew as Kael gritted his teeth, every muscle in his body straining with the effort. But the figure was too strong, overpowering Kael.

His legs would have given way under the weight of the other man's strike, the impact sending Kael's knees thudding into the floor.

The figure grinned, his eyes narrowing as he raised his blade for the killing blow. Kael's vision blurred, but he didn't give in. Not yet.

"Fuck you," Kael spat.

With a growl, Kael surged up, his sword raised in a desperate final strike. The figure's blade met his with a violent clash, sending shockwaves through Kael's arms, but his sheer rage carried him forward.

Kael was no longer thinking. Every swing of his sword, every movement of his body, was fueled by raw, unrelenting fury. His wounds, his pain they didn't matter.

The figure took a step back, his expression unwavering, by Kael's sheer strength, though he found it within himself to be composed quickly. A mischievous glint danced across his eyes.

"You're determined, I'll give you that," the figure taunted. "But in the end, you'll end up just like all the others.

Kael could feel his body shiver, his hand slipping from the sword. He was running on fumes. Blood poured from his wounds, and his sight went reeling. His mind was unraveling at the edges, but he refused to give in. He couldn't.

The figure lunged again, his blade slicing through the air like lightning. Kael barely managed to block the strike, the impact jolting his body, sending a wave of pain through his chest. He was on the edge, one breath away from collapse.

But then something changed.

A loud crack resonated through the alley, the sickening sharpness sending Kael's blood cold down. The figure's arm holding the blade twisted unnaturally as if broken by a force that went beyond any human being should possess.

Kael blinked hard in confusion; his brain couldn't make sense of it all. The figure stumbled back, and his wide eyes filled with shock.

"What?"

Before that figure could react, a shadow moved. Another figure faster than anything Kael had ever seen slammed into the enemy with the force of a thunderclap. The figure was tall, cloaked in black, and wielded two blades in a deadly dance. He moved like a shadow, his strikes so fast that Kael barely understood them.

The other figure didn't stand a chance.

With a practiced stroke, the cloak-and-wrougar swung his blade, slicing across the man's defenses. One fluid motion cut right through the armor without doing much, but the noise alone froze the figure in a strangled gasp.

His body sprawled out on the ground as two blades drove home the kill by biting across it with successive brutal precision. The last thing Kael saw was the spray of blood from the man's throat, painting the walls red.

The alley was silent once more, save for the gentle, labored breathing of Kael. His heart pounded within his chest as he tried to make sense of what had just occurred. The figure that had been playing games with him, the one that seemed invincible, was now a heap of lifeless flesh on the ground.

He towered over the body, dark and unreadable eyes gleaming with the shine of wiped blades and blood.

Kael gazed at him, still fighting to get air. "Who in the world are you?"

The warrior did not reply immediately. He turned his head and looked into Kael's, and for that fleeting instant, Kael saw something dark there, the hunger. More blood. More destruction.

"I am not your ally, Kael," he finally said, voice low, menacing. "But right now, we share a common enemy."

Kael's head swam, and the world tilted precariously to the side. He could feel the elixir fading, strength leaving his body. His knees buckled, and he would have fallen if it hadn't been for the warrior's steady hand grabbing his arm.

“Get up,” the warrior growled, his grip tightening. “We’re not done yet.”

Kael’s eyes flicked to the warrior’s bloodstained face, his heart pounding faster than it ever had before. There was something about this man that set his teeth on edge, something cold and ruthless that Kael couldn’t place.

“You’re a fucking psychopath,” Kael spat, but he allowed himself to be pulled to his feet.

The warrior didn't respond, his attention still focused on the surroundings as if he was scanning for danger. Kael's mind ran.

The alley was quiet, but that never meant they were safe. It never did.

Then the distant sound of footsteps cut through the silence.

More.

The warrior turned to face the noise. His body was tense, poised on the hilt of his blade. "We don't have much time," he said, urgency in his voice. "They're coming."

The warrior raised his sword, struggling to stand. "We aren't done, huh?"

The warrior's lips curled into a cold smile. "Not even close.

Then, at a pace that dizzied Kael's head, the warrior vanished into the night, seeming to disappear altogether as if he had never existed.

Kael stood alone in the alleyway, blood seeping from his wounds, surrounded by corpses and shadows.

And then, the first of the new enemies emerged.

More footsteps, more figures shrouded in darkness. They were closing in fast, and Kael had no choice but to face them, his bloodied sword his only defense.