"There is a kind of fear that lives in the bones. Not the fear of death, or pain, or even failure, but the fear that, when the moment comes, you'll do nothing. That your sword will stay sheathed, your breath will catch, and the world will keep burning while you stand frozen, watching. I've seen it hollow men from the inside. I've felt it scrape across my own ribs like a dull blade."
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Nisheena forced herself to her feet, swaying slightly as vertigo threatened to send her crashing back to the floor. Her second dagger was still in its sheath, steel waiting to taste demon blood, but she knew now that simple stabbing wouldn't be enough. The creature's hide was too thick, its unnatural physiology too resilient for conventional attacks to have much effect.
But every creature had weaknesses. Even demons were bound by certain physical laws, certain vulnerabilities that could be exploited by those clever enough to find them. The head—that had to be the key. Destroy the brain, sever the connection between malevolent intelligence and physical form, and even a Marduk might fall.
The creature had already selected its next victim. Those six amber eyes fixed on Kael with predatory interest, and it began stalking forward with the lazy confidence of an apex predator. Steam continued to rise from its body, carrying whispers in languages that predated human civilization, words of power and corruption that made her skin crawl just to hear them.
"Kael!" she shouted, trying to break through his paralysis. "Move! Draw your sword!"
Her words seemed to penetrate the fog of terror that had settled over the young man's mind. He fumbled for his weapon, hands trembling so badly he nearly dropped it twice before finally managing to free the blade from its sheath. The steel gleamed in the lamplight, reflecting flames that danced like tortured souls, but it looked pitifully inadequate against the supernatural horror bearing down on him.
Nisheena knew she had seconds at most before the creature struck. Her injured body protested as she pushed herself into motion, drawing on reserves of strength she hadn't known she possessed. The second dagger came free of its sheath with a whisper of steel on leather, the familiar weight providing cold comfort against impossible odds.
The Marduk launched itself at Kael with the same terrifying speed it had shown before, muscles bunching like steel springs before releasing with explosive force. The young man raised his sword in a desperate guard position, eyes squeezed shut and face contorted with anticipated agony. He looked so young in that moment, so utterly unprepared for the reality of violence that his revolutionary speeches had seemed to welcome.
Nisheena moved as the creature was in mid-leap, knowing she had only one chance to make this count. Her enhanced speed carried her forward in a blur of motion, dagger held high and aimed for the base of the Marduk's skull. If she could drive the blade deep enough, find the critical junction where spine met brain...
The timing had to be perfect. Too early, and the creature would sense her approach and adjust its attack. Too late, and Kael would die as messily as his friend. She held her breath and prayed to whatever gods might still be listening to dark elves with blood on their hands.
Her blade found its mark just as the Marduk's jaws were closing toward Kael's terrified face. Steel punched through hide and muscle, sliding between vertebrae to pierce the creature's spine at the base of its neck. This time, the demon hound's scream of pain was genuine, a sound like breaking glass mixed with the wails of the damned that seemed to shake dust from the inn's rafters.
The creature's trajectory shifted as pain and shock disrupted its perfect attack. Instead of crushing Kael's skull, it crashed into the wall beside him, its massive body leaving deep gouges in the wooden planks. Dark ichor sprayed from the wound, steaming as it hit the floor and filling the air with the acrid smell of burning sulfur.
But even as Nisheena felt a surge of hope, she realized her blade had missed the killing blow. The dagger was embedded in the creature's upper back, close to the neck but not quite deep enough to sever the spinal cord completely. She had wounded it badly, perhaps crippled it, but she hadn't struck the death blow she had been aiming for.