A sharp tip reflected on Asher’s silver pupils.

  It was the tip of some long, pointed object that came piercing through the dust clouds in the room.

  Cling!

  The sound of metal clashing echoed briefly as Asher parried the attack with lightning-like speed.

  His eyes strained, going dull as another attack followed back.

  ‘Fast!’

  He tried taking a step back, but then the trajectory of the attack changed mid-swing.

  CLING!

  Asher countered at the last moment, losing his balance momentarily before his crystal sword lunged back at the enemy.

  He couldn’t see the enemy but the same applies for it as well!

  The loud sound of the blade made the air tremble and led the cloud of dust to part.

  His sword, however, reached nothing as another strike swept from below, reaching toward his neck.

  ‘Damn it!’ Asher pursed his lips shut, not letting a single groan escape his lips. A single sound could cost him a limb or two if he was not careful enough.

  With a burst of speed he closed the distance and slashed midair as his blade dimmed darker than the room. But his blade connected with no one to his irik.

  At some point he even imagined himself as a performer dancing aimlessly with his enemy as they both could only breeze through each other's attacks.

  The room was silent again, save for his ragged breaths. Sweat dripped into his eyes, stinging—he blinked it away, tasting salt on his lips. His knuckles whitened around the crystal sword’s hilt. The dust hung thick as wet wool, muffling sounds and choking his throat with grit. ‘Damn thing’s teasing me.’ Asher’s mind raced. Fighting blind was like threading a needle in a storm.

  Even fighting the beast felt much easier considering its scales glowed and the spirit of shadow had helped at the critical moment.

  But where did that spirit go again?

  He suppressed another urge to throw a number of curses upon the spirit, hoping that it was simply waiting for the right moment to help him.

  One heartbeat. Two.

  The dust particles swirled like disturbed ash, writhing between Asher and the unseen menace. His ears strained—nothing but the frantic drumming of his own pulse. Then, a whisper-thin scrape against stone. ‘Left. No.’ His instinct screamed. He pivoted just as a jagged shadow blurred past his ribs, tearing cloth and drawing a thin line of blood. Warmth bloomed beneath his tunic and armor. The attacker didn’t retreat this time. It pressed closer, its form still obscured by grime, but Asher felt its presence: cold breathing in sync with the settling powder.

  "Ah."

  Asher let out a rasped cry as pain ripped across his abdomen, sharp enough to steal his breath. But he didn’t let it linger. A sudden, almost twisted laugh slipped from the corner of his lips, breaking through the agony as if mocking it.

  "Found you."

  His words came sharp, almost like the sharpest blade to ever exist, though it was mostly in his mind.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  A silhouette, tall and imposing, stood behind the dust cloud and darkness with something needle-like in its arms.

  Asher closed the distance as the enemy slowed down, and time crawled at a snail's pace.

  In the next instance, a song of steel clashing hummed in the air.

  Cling!

  Cling!

  Asher felt the sting burning across his skin, but his sword’s tip gleamed red. The creature’s movements had slowed to a crawl, while he only grew faster—sharper. Closing the distance had been the right choice; the monster’s weapon, a spear-like thing it wielded with brutal precision, had lost much of its threat. Yet its strikes remained vicious and seasoned, as if he were battling a hardened veteran rather than a beast.

  He felt flesh give beneath the handle of his blade, a sharp tingling running through his palms with every precise strike he landed.

  He was winning—slowly forcing the creature back, step by grinding step.

  It was uncanny. The thing moved not like a blind, mindless beast but like a seasoned fighter, someone honed by years of battle rather than instinct alone.

  'Wait, what?'

  Asher felt a chill down his spine.

  'Is this guy a human?'

  He couldn't be sure... both of them were not talking after all.

  ‘Let's just subdue him first.’

  Asher saw the silhouette freeze in place. He was just about to trigger his blade’s enchantment when a cold sting swept across his neck—thin, sharp, and invisible.

  Something had nearly taken his head off.

  Swiss!

  Thud!

  The thin wall behind him split cleanly open, carved by whatever had passed. A shadow rose at his back, and at the same time his enemy collapsed to the ground, Asher’s blade already poised at its neck.

  Just then—

  Booom!

  The wall on the other side exploded.

  Asher suddenly felt calm; almost comically enough, he felt relief. The corner of his mouth started to twitch and his blade’s tip hit the floor. From below a cold hiss entered his ears.

  Asher didn’t look down; instead, he waited for the smoke from the explosion to settle.

  As the debris from the collapsing wall scattered aside, a new silhouette emerged in his line of sight. The chunk of ceiling still clinging to the wall gave way a heartbeat later, crashing down in a wave of dust and stone.

  Tak—

  Tak—

  Footsteps. Asher heard them behind him. He didn’t close his eyes, feeling if he did, all of this might turn into an illusion and shatter apart like glass as well.

  That thought honestly scared him.

  A ray of light came from above, where the ceiling was. It washed over Asher's face, making his eyes squint briefly before adjusting to the new light.

  The darkness has vanished.

  Now the figures in the room had become clearer.

  A woman stepped forward from the light, her stern gaze cutting through the dust. Bronze-skinned, as if sculpted from metal itself, she stood with a stillness that resembled an exquisite statue. Her features were sharp, her eyes sharper still. Undeniably, she was beautiful.

  However, she seems to hold a confused look on her beautiful face.

  No, rather than confusion, it was disbelief.

  She had a spiteful expression… an expression Asher had seen countless times on her face.

  He scoffed.

  “Hey… I guess you guys are also here with me… In this hell.”

  His lips trembled as he choked on his words.

  “...Yeah, it seems we all are in hell. You are not a ghost, right?”

  Even her voice filled with indignant mockery sounded surreal to him.

  “No… I am real, as real as I can be.”

  “Captain, um, Asher… I know it's a surprise. But if you are done staring at my sister. I am also here.”

  Such words came from below.

  When Asher turned his head to look down, he saw a man with dark hair and a face similar to the woman's. His face held many bruises, and he was bleeding from his arms and legs, though the wounds didn’t look deep.

  “Yes… it’s good to see you as well.”

  Chris winced hearing him and stretched his hand toward Asher.

  Asher hesitated before grabbing his hand and helping Chris stand up on his two feet.

  He held his hand for a second longer before letting it go.

  Asher pursed his lips and looked back to see another man, slightly shorter than Chris with black hair and pale skin. In his neck he still wore the familiar black scarf and walked at a slow pace toward him.

  “Asher… You are also here?”

  Enzo asked with wide eyes.

  It was the most shocked face Asher had ever seen him make. He chuckled before nodding slowly.

  “Alive and... yeah, alive, that’s it.”

  Asher forced another smile.

  He never thought he would feel happy seeing them, at least not this much.

  He could almost feel his eyes burn as tears threatened to spill down his face. Asher licked his lips and placed his free hand over his face and inhaled deeply. His breathing hitched as Enzo stared at his face.

  “Everything is going to be alright.”

  He muttered.

  “Yes?”

  Enzo spoke with a voice filled with confusion.

  Asher didn’t answer back; it wasn’t for them, but for him.

  ‘Everything is going to be alright.’

  He had said it countless times over the last month.

  But now it seems true, even if only for a moment.

  They were real, not an illusion. That's what matters.