The devil's greatsword descended with lethal intent, its sharp blade aimed directly for Hope's skull, ready to end it all. Hope's heart slammed against his ribcage as he reached with trembling hands for his odachi, lying only a few feet from him. His fingers brushed the hilt, and with all the remaining strength he could muster, he grasped it and yanked it toward the incoming blade.
In one swift motion, Hope drove the point of his dark odachi into the devil's side, pushing it downward through the armor. There was no satisfying scream, no splatter of blood—only a burst of black smoke, like the very soul of the creature was being expelled through the wound. The devil jerked back, clearly startled by the unexpected strike, but it was only a momentary hesitation.
Hope gritted his teeth, tasting blood as it dripped from his cracked lips. "You piece of crap," he snarled through the blood pooling in his mouth, leaning heavily on his sword. The pain coursing through him made his legs tremble, and his vision swam in and out of focus, but he refused to fall. Not now. Not when he had one last chance to fight.
With a sudden surge of energy, Hope felt the dark, familiar power of his awakened ability flicker to life. The darkness embraced him like an old friend, folding over him and pulling him in. He could feel the cold comfort of the void wrap around him, his body slipping into the shadows with the ease of a snake coiling into its den. The devil stood there, momentarily dazed, not even realizing that Hope had disappeared into the darkness.
Hope's presence was invisible, intangible—he was nothing but a whisper, a shiver in the air. He looked at the devil from within the shadows, feeling the familiar sense of power and quiet control. Now, let's see how you deal with this, Hope thought, a savage grin tugging at the corners of his bloodied lips.
He burst forward with a speed that even surprised him, his odachi slashing through the air like a streak of darkness. The devil's heavy armor seemed slow compared to the lightning-fast strike, and Hope made contact with the creature's arm, cutting through the blackened metal like butter. The devil groaned, the sound guttural and low, as the slash left a jagged wound in its arm. Hope wasted no time—he was on it like a predator, attacking from every direction with relentless precision.
Each strike came faster than the last. He slashed at the devil's chest, its legs, aiming for the creature's weak points, though there seemed to be few. The black smoke poured from the wounds as Hope's blade met flesh and armor. With each cut, the creature reeled back, its movements becoming more erratic. But Hope didn't let up. His body felt lighter in the shadows, quicker, his every step a whisper of death as he danced between the darkness and the light, making himself a nightmare for the devil to track.
But just as Hope slashed at the devil's shoulder, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. A chill shot through his veins, and his skin crawled with an unsettling sensation—it knows where I am. The devil's eyes, glowing bright red, flickered for a moment, locking onto Hope's position within the darkness. Hope froze for a split second, the shock of being seen so unexpectedly sending a ripple of panic through him.
Crap, Hope cursed inwardly, a feeling of dread creeping into his chest. He was never supposed to be visible like this. The devil shouldn't have been able to track him. Why?
The creature's head tilted, its grin widening, a sickening twist of satisfaction. "Did you think you could hide from me forever?" The voice was a deep rumble, the words heavy with cruel amusement. The devil raised its greatsword, and with terrifying speed, it lashed it downward. Hope's instincts screamed at him to move, but he wasn't fast enough. The sword was too close.
Hope darted out of the darkness, forcing his body to move. His foot caught on something in the dark, throwing his balance off, and the devil's sword crashed down just inches from his head. The shockwave from the impact sent a violent tremor through the air, and Hope was thrown back, crashing hard against the stone ground. His sword skidded across the floor, far from his grasp.
His breath caught in his throat. His body screamed in agony from the collision, and he struggled to push himself up, his hands shaking violently. He couldn't let himself fall here. Not like this. He had to get back into the shadows, had to keep moving.
But before Hope could even regain his footing, the devil's massive form loomed over him, its eyes locked onto his every movement. The creature lunged, moving with impossible speed, its sword raised high once again, preparing to strike the fatal blow.
Hope's mind raced, his thoughts frantic and jumbled as his body struggled to react. I can't outrun this thing. I can't dodge. Not like this. His heart was racing, his body broken, and yet he refused to give up. The darkness was his last refuge.
Just as the sword came down, Hope vanished into the shadows once more. The devil's blade missed by a hair, its impact causing the ground beneath Hope to tremble. Hope shot through the darkness like a bullet, reappearing behind the devil's back, his odachi raised for another strike. The devil swung its blade in an arc, trying to predict Hope's next move, but Hope was already gone again, slipping into the void.
The clash of steel filled the air. Every time Hope emerged, it was like a bolt of lightning, striking fast and fierce. His odachi flashed through the air, cutting deep into the devil's side, its chest, the back of its legs. But it was not enough. The creature seemed unphased, its wounds seeping black smoke, quickly healing as though the creature was made of something otherworldly. Hope was tiring, each strike demanding more of him, every breath harder to take.
Then, just as he dove back into the shadows, Hope felt the presence of the devil following him. The creature had adapted, its own form slipping into the darkness with a fluidity that matched Hope's. The air around Hope grew heavy as the devil seemed to sense where he was, its sword cutting through the darkness like a vengeful force.
With each slash, the shockwaves rippled through the air. It was a brutal exchange, a war of shadows and steel. Hope's heart raced as he fought, his breaths shallow and ragged, his body screaming from the damage already done. His muscles were burning, his hands slick with blood, and his mind was starting to cloud with fatigue.
The devil wasn't going to give up. And neither was Hope. The battle raged on. The darkness howled as steel clashed against steel, the very air vibrating with the power of each attack. The shockwaves shook the room, the stone walls crumbling with every impact. Hope could feel his grip slipping. But he wasn't dead yet. Not yet.
Not as long as darkness still answered to him.