Arthur and the Nightreaver clashed in a blur of movement. The creature's razor-sharp talons struck against the obsidian blade of Arthur's sword with a shrill metallic screech that echoed across the field of dead roses. The impact sent vibrations running up Arthur's arms, but he held firm, grinding his teeth against the jarring sensation.
The Nightreaver immediately disengaged, powerful wings carrying it upward and away. It began circling Arthur like a vulture assessing wounded prey. But in the darkness, Arthur was far from helpless.
He felt the creature's presence without having to look—his Dark Sense painting a vivid picture of his surroundings. Every distortion in the air, every powerful flap of leathery wings, even the rapid rhythm of the creature's heartbeat registered in his heightened awareness. The darkness that others feared had become his ally, revealing what normal eyes could never perceive.
