The sword came easily to the Knight's hand as he charged.
It materialized from the shadows around his gauntlet like smoke condensing into steel—long, grey and silent. No gleam, almost no weight in the Knight's hand.
Just the cold hum of power echoing.Adraval's ornate weapon, by contrast, looked more for ceremony than survival.
They didn't speak.
Adraval struck first.
A wide, erratic swing meant to test—not kill. The Knight met it with one step forward and parried easily, twisting his blade and nearly disarming Adraval in a single motion. Adraval grinned, even as the edge of the Knight's sword bit across his shoulder, drawing blood. He grinned like a the bastard he was.
"Yes!" Adraval gasped, smiling wide. "You do feel, don't you? You're not just armor and silence! You are the perfect subject!!"
The Knight said nothing.
He advanced again—two strikes, low then high, smooth and precise. Adraval stumbled back, his own attacks turning wild and clumsy. He fought like a man used to power, not practice. A man who thought his bloodline was enough.
It wasn't.
Within seconds, the Knight had him on the ground. His foot pressed down on Adraval's chest, the tip of his blade poised at the man's throat.
"Yield," the Knight said. The Knight's free hand punched his face. Steel met Adraval's face drawing blood.
"Yield,"
He said emotionlessly as he punched him again.
Adraval laughed as his teeth reddened with blood.
He didn't answer.
He escaped.
Scrambling out from under the Knight's boot, Adraval dashed across the room toward a far wall. His blood trailed after him. He slammed his palm against a section of smooth stone—and a hidden passage groaned open.
He disappeared inside.
The Knight quickly gave chase.
---
The passage beyond was tight and damp.
The air smelled of wet stone and mildew. The floor was slick with moss and dripping condensation. As he walked deeper, the walls seemed to close in, and the faint blue torchlight from the laboratory above gave way to darkness.
Then he heard it.
Laughter. Twisted laughter.
It echoed off the walls. Hysterical. Breathless.
Then—
"Come see, Knight!" Adraval's voice rang out. "Come see what your righteousness has earned! See what my experimens have created!"
The Knight entered a wide, sunken chamber.
It was cold. Very cold. Too cold.
Moisture clung to the ceiling in heavy beads. Pools of dark water collected in the dips of the floor. Old rusted chains hung from hooks along the walls. The stone was cracked and uneven—this place hadn't been built; it had grown, like mold beneath a floorboard.
And in the middle of the room… something waited.
It towered over both of them.
Adraval stood beside it, soaked in sweat and blood, one hand pressed lovingly against its hide. His chest heaved with every breath, eyes glassy and wide. He was trembling.
Not with fear.
With joy. Pure unfiltered, unhinged joy.
"This is what they all became," Adraval said, grinning. "All the failures. All the wasted souls! THIS what all that knowledge accumulated."
The Knight stepped forward.
And finally saw it.
The thing was massive—at least fifteen feet tall, hunched forward like a rotting hill. Its body was a patchwork of skin and bone. Its back bore two enormous wings—but they weren't wings in any real sense.
They were made of limbs.
Dozens of human arms and legs jutted from bone-like structures, twisted at odd angles. Fingers spasmed. Toes twitched. Some limbs hung uselessly; others flexed, bent, or grasped at the air like they were drowning.
Its torso rose and fell slowly, each breath thick and ragged.
And its faces—there were so many. All over its body.
Some were small and quiet, eyes closed in an eternal sleep. Others had mouths frozen open mid-scream. One pair of eyes blinked rapidly—disconnected from any working mouth beneath it.
The faces were embedded into its flesh like memories that refused to fade.
Adraval pressed his forehead to the creature's side.
"I gave him eternity," he whispered. "He hated being alone,you know? He was so innocent.....vile."
The creature gurgled.
Its limbs dragged against the floor as it began to move.
It smelled—of rot, bile, and stagnant blood. Each step was labored, but it moved with strength. Impossible strength.
Adraval stepped back, his arms spread wide.
"Kill him," he said, voice cracking. "Tear him apart!"
The Knight didn't move.
His blade pulsed once in his hand.
And the thing roared.
It wasn't the normal sound of a beast. The innumerable faces on it's body screamed all at once.
The Knight got ready for his fight.
The thing charged with it's multitude of legs.
The Knight charged with his armoured legs, propelling off the damp floor.
Steel met twisted flesh.