The figure's blade came for my throat.
I ducked, the edge whispering past my ear, and brought my sword up in a rising slash. Steel met silver with a ringing crack that echoed through the pillars. The force of the block numbed my arm. Whoever this was, they were stronger than they looked.
They pressed forward, each strike flowing into the next—fast, precise, and merciless. No wasted movement. Their footwork was measured, never overreaching, as though they'd fought a hundred duels in this darkness.
The Nameless God hissed in my mind. Their blood burns bright. Spill it.
I slid back between two kneeling statues, using the stone to block a horizontal slash. The silver blade scraped across the pillar, slicing through stone like flesh. My jaw tightened. That wasn't normal steel.
"You fight well," the figure said, advancing. "But you don't know the rules here."
I stepped sideways, forcing them to pivot. "Then teach me."
The silver blade darted low. I twisted, letting it pass, and drove my sword forward toward their ribs. They caught it with a reverse grip, the silver edge biting into my weapon. Sparks scattered between us.
I shoved, forcing them back a step. "Who sent you?"
"No one." The answer came without hesitation. "I guard the gates."
Another lunge—this one faster. I barely caught it, the impact jarring my shoulder. The figure spun with the rebound, slicing for my legs. I jumped back, but the tip caught my boot, slicing leather clean.
The Nameless God's voice grew sharper. You're playing. Stop playing.
I exhaled once, tightening my grip. The next time they struck, I didn't block. I stepped into the arc of the blade, feeling the heat of it pass my cheek, and slammed my elbow into their chest. They staggered, the hood slipping just enough for me to see pale skin marked with black veins.
I slashed low. My blade bit deep into their thigh.
The figure hissed, but instead of retreating, they grabbed the back of my head and drove their forehead into mine. My vision burst white.
"Good," they murmured, voice low enough only I could hear. "The roots chose well."
Then they came at me harder, faster—silver flashing like lightning in the dark.
The Nameless God laughed inside me. Now this is worth my hunger.
I didn't feel the moment my control slipped. In one heartbeat, I was fighting. The next, I was moving faster than I thought possible, every strike aimed to kill, every feint designed to draw blood.
The silver blade caught my arm, cutting deep. I ignored it. My sword carved a line across their chest. They didn't cry out.
The last exchange was brutal—a simultaneous thrust. My blade sank into their side. Their silver edge grazed my neck, a line of heat spreading across the skin.
We froze, breaths ragged.
The figure stepped back, pulling my sword free. "You may pass. For now."
Without another word, they vanished between the pillars, leaving a trail of dark blood that steamed on the stone.
The Nameless God was quiet for once.
I tightened my grip on my weapon and moved deeper into the underground.