Riushi wasn't just hampered by the helmet's limited vision; he was fighting practically blind, dodging blows by sound and the movement of the air. One misstep would be his last. He couldn't go on like this.
He made a drastic decision. He whispered from behind the steel of his helmet: "Oh, Sun, father of creation, I implore your protection, please have mercy on your foolish son this night."
Then, he shifted his gaze and looked directly into the creature's violet eyes.
A mental jolt, sharp and cold as an ice nail, pierced his skull. He almost lost his balance, a nausea of distorted reality rising in his throat. But right beneath the pain, he felt the fire: a radiant, furious heat burning inside his mind, scorching the dark god's influence like paper before a torch. It was a clarifying agony. He held his breath, used all his strength to anchor himself in that inner fire, and attacked.
The battle took a drastic turn. Freed from tactical blindness, Riushi transformed. His footwork became elegant and deadly, his strength, devastating and precise. Every strike of his flaming sword not only severed but charred the abomination's limbs, which now regenerated with desperate slowness. He was cornering it.
Seeing an opening, Riushi lunged with all his weight. He drove his red-hot sword into the twisted center of the creature and, with a grunt of pure effort, slammed it against the ground, gripping the hilt with both hands to pin it down.
Evan, from his hiding place, saw the opportunity. He ran out with his short sword drawn. Every cell in his body screamed at him to flee, but his feet kept moving forward.
The creature, in its death throes, had regenerated a black, bony arm that rose to strike Riushi in the undefended back. At the last instant, Evan arrived and drove his blade into the joint of the arm, stopping the blow. Without wasting a second, both friends pushed with all their might, sinking their swords even deeper into the entity.
An agonized scream, composed of a thousand pitiful voices, erupted into the night. Evan's face contorted, feeling his courage crack. But Riushi, with fierce determination, released one hand from his hilt and began to pummel the twisted mass with his steel-gauntleted fist, over and over, with a holy rage.
Under the combined assault, the abomination began to tear apart, to unravel. Its laments faded. Finally, it stopped resisting. It lay inert. Dead.
For a moment, only the crackle of the fire on Riushi's sword could be heard. Then, a shared sigh.
After catching their breath a little, without taking their eyes off the pile of ash that was the abomination, Evan and Riushi resumed their path toward the castle. Riushi decided not to remove his helmet.
Every meter gained toward the great iron gate of the castle relieved some of the pressure in their chests. But as they neared, they saw something at the entrance: figures slamming against the metal.
Cautiously, they observed more closely. They were people dressed in rags, the filth visible even from a distance. They pounded on the door with desperation, pleading to be let in, with screams that tore their throats.
"Street people who couldn't find shelter," murmured Evan.
But there was something else. Something odd about the skin on their exposed arms. Tattoos? Scales? No. It was skin turned to charcoal-gray stone, cracked, with golden veins that glowed faintly in the dark. They were the advanced symptoms of Harmonium addiction.
Before their fatigued minds could process the danger, they had already approached within about fifteen meters. Perhaps exhaustion clouded their judgment, or the still-human appearance of the addicts made them lower their guard.
Then, one of them turned and looked back at them. He had golden eyes with their own unnatural gleam, another final trait of addiction. First it was the alert gaze of a beast, then that of a starving creature smelling meat.
Others began to turn, one by one. The clamor of pleas died down, leaving a dense, unsettling silence. In seconds, a dozen pairs of golden eyes stared fixedly at them, the ragged bodies motionless in a terrifying stillness.
"Let's back away. Slowly," whispered Riushi, his voice muffled by the steel.
Evan swallowed hard and nodded.
They took a gentle step back. The addicts took a sharp, synchronized step forward. The movement, so uniform, froze the friends' blood.
Then, the addicts looked up, staring over Evan and Riushi's heads. All the senses of the two young men exploded into pure alarm, as if sharp blades already rested on their throats.
An enormous body landed behind them. The impact of two huge, clawed paws shook the ground. It could have been a dragon, but the silhouette projected before their feet—broad, massive, with irregular spikes—resembled nothing known. The creature advanced, making its shadow engulf the young men, until its invisible mass was one step away from crushing them.
Its presence was so overwhelming that the instinct to turn around broke under a more ancient weight: absolute terror. Neither of them turned.
Evan grabbed Riushi's arm.
"Don't look," he said in a flat voice, devoid of emotion, his wide eyes fixed on the monstrous shadow at their feet. Riushi's eyes, behind the slit, reflected the same paralyzing dread.
The two were breathless, petrified, their gazes lost until they could no longer ignore what was happening in front of them. The addicts, near the door, stared fixedly at the monster that stood behind them.
At first, they remained motionless. Then they began to tremble, to bring their hands to their temples. Their moans turned into shattered screams, growing louder and louder, as they squeezed their heads with desperate force. Their golden eyes began to smoke, to melt, leaving empty, dripping sockets before their bodies fell lifeless to the ground.
Evan, in a state of shock, didn't move a muscle that wasn't trembling.
With tears falling from beneath his helmet, Riushi found his friend's hand and gripped it. Evan, without taking his eyes off the horror in front, also gripped his friend's hand. Both closed their eyes, ready to die.
Then, a voice behind them broke the silence.
"Open the door," it roared. It was a deep, animal voice, like no human could ever have.
They heard the creature's footsteps moving away. Then, the unfurling of two enormous wings at its sides, and a gust of wind almost knocked them over as it took flight, carrying away its shadow and oppressive presence.
They remained there, holding hands, until a metallic rumbling snapped them out of their trance. The enormous iron gates of the castle began to open with an agonizing screech.
Several guards in silver armor came out, spears in hand. Without a word, they took the young men by the arms and firmly escorted them inside. The heavy doors closed behind them with a final thud.