Eric glanced over his shoulder.
— Arthur.
He tossed the gemstone toward Arthur, who caught it with his uninjured hand. Eric then turned back to face the stranger once more.
— No matter what happens, don't interfere, Arthur...
— It's either him or me.
...
The stranger began circling him with slow, measured steps, his eyes locked onto Eric's without wavering.
Eric kept his sword raised, ready to answer any attack.
Suddenly, the stranger stopped.
In the next instant, he burst forward with blinding speed, his sword darting toward Eric.
Eric raised his blade to meet the attack
Only to realize it had been a feint.
At the very last moment, the stranger shifted his strike, changing its trajectory entirely and launching a second attack from an angle Eric had never anticipated.
In the end, Eric managed to deflect the strike with great difficulty, relying on the defensive nature of his sword.
The two combatants stepped back, creating distance between one another.
— Enough.
The clash resumed.
Blades met again and again in a relentless exchange of strikes—precise, sharp, and deadly. Sparks illuminated the surroundings whenever steel collided in prolonged clashes.
At last, Eric ended the exchange with a powerful shove that forced the stranger backward, taking advantage of his expertise in close-quarters combat.
But this time, Eric retreated as well.
Silent breaths escaped his lips as he struggled to conceal his exhaustion. Deep down, he knew he was facing a truly formidable opponent.
The stranger's fighting style revolved around a slender one-handed sword—fast, deceptive, and difficult to read.
In contrast, Eric wielded a long blade that relied on two-handed strength and direct engagements.
Once more, the two circled each other.
Each movement was carefully observed. Each shift in posture was analyzed.
Neither dared lower their guard.
A suffocating tension hung between them as they read one another with frightening concentration.
Then, at last, the stranger decided to reveal his next card.
He took a single step forward, feigning another attack.
Eric immediately raised his guard in preparation for the incoming strike.
But instead of advancing, the stranger suddenly leaped backward.
At the very same moment, he hurled three knives toward Eric—
Or so it seemed.
Eric dodged the first knife.
The second was knocked aside by his sword.
But the third...
The third vanished completely from his sight.
In reality, it had never been aimed at him.
Instead, the knife flew toward a solid stone wall.
It struck the rock and ricocheted off at a sharp angle before slicing across Eric's arm, leaving behind a long, bloody gash.
Eric froze for a moment.
His eyes followed the droplets of blood as they fell one by one onto the ground.
From afar, the stranger's smile remained firmly etched across his face.
Only then...
Did the real tension begin to creep into Eric's heart.
...
What...?
...
What's happening to me?
...
Ever since I entered this place, this feeling of pressure and weakness has been growing stronger the deeper I go.
...
And now I'm standing face-to-face with this bastard...
...
My movements are getting slower.
...
This strange feeling...
...
It's as if something is draining me little by little.
...
The two resumed circling each other.
Yet there was a noticeable difference now.
Exhaustion had begun to show on Eric in a way that felt unnatural, while the stranger appeared to be thoroughly enjoying what was unfolding before him.
Without warning, the stranger burst forward.
A relentless storm of fast and violent attacks rained down upon Eric.
All Eric could do was block and retreat, step after step, as the stranger continued to pressure him with overwhelming aggression.
The stranger launched a strike aimed at Eric's face.
Eric's guard immediately shifted upward to intercept it.
But at the last moment, the stranger changed his attack.
It was another deception.
Instead of striking high, he whipped a low roundhouse kick into Eric's legs.
Eric lost his footing and crashed onto the ground.
The instant he fell, the stranger drove his sword straight toward his face.
Eric barely managed to stop it by catching the blade between his palms.
Unfortunately, his leather gloves were nowhere near sturdy enough to withstand the sword's edge.
Blood trickled from both of Eric's hands and dripped onto his face.
The stranger continued pressing downward.
Slowly.
Relentlessly.
The horrifying sound of steel cutting into flesh echoed in Eric's ears as the sword carved deeper into his palms.
The blade's razor-sharp edge crept closer and closer to his eye.
Closer to his cornea.
Then—
A powerful punch slammed into the stranger's face.
The impact sent him flying away from Eric.
Before Eric could even process what had happened, a hand was suddenly extended toward him.
— Come on, Eric...
Arthur.
From the very beginning, Arthur had been watching the battle unfold.
More than anyone else, he had noticed that something was wrong with Eric.
He had watched his strength steadily fade as the fight continued.
I have to move.
Ignoring the pain, Arthur grabbed the knife embedded in his body and yanked it out in one swift motion.
At the very moment the stranger was forcing his sword toward Eric's face, Arthur charged forward.
The stranger sensed another presence approaching.
He turned toward the source of the movement—
Only to be met by a devastating punch.
Arthur's fist smashed into his face with enough force to distort his features for a brief instant before hurling him away from Eric.
Without wasting a second, Arthur extended his hand once more.
— Come on, Eric.
Elsewhere, the stranger rose to his feet once more. He picked up the scarf that had been knocked loose by Arthur's punch and tied it back around his face.
Across from him stood Eric and Arthur, shoulder to shoulder. The stranger's gaze shifted between them.
— Really? Two against one... That's hardly fair, is it?
Arthur let out a short laugh.
— This isn't a duel, damn fool
Eric studied the stranger carefully.
— I think I'm beginning to understand.
The stranger tilted his head, puzzled by Eric's words.
Eric continued.
— For decades, Lumiere has suffered from the threat of terrorism. You're one of those extremists responsible for countless assassinations. Your fighting style is familiar... and I swear I've seen your face on wanted posters before.
His eyes narrowed.
— I believe they call you... the Predator.
A wide grin spread across the Predator's face.
Suddenly, he hurled a knife toward them.
As their guards instinctively rose, he exploded forward.
His left hand drew a small hatchet from behind his back while his right tightened around his sword.
His target was obvious.
Arthur.
The unarmed one.
Before he could reach him, Eric intercepted the attack and forced the clash away from Arthur.
At that moment, Arthur noticed an old shield hanging nearby. He tore it from its place and immediately put it to use.
During another exchange, the Predator gained the upper hand against Eric—
Only for Arthur to smash the shield into his back.
The Predator twisted away from Eric's strike and swung his hatchet at Arthur.
Arthur blocked with the shield.
A moment later, the Predator turned and parried Eric's sword once again.
For several seconds, he managed to hold his ground against both opponents simultaneously.
Then came a coordinated attack.
Eric and Arthur struck at the same time.
The Predator slipped between them with astonishing speed.
His sword slashed across Eric.
His hatchet cut into Arthur.
Both men were wounded.
All three retreated simultaneously, each ending up in a different corner of the battlefield.
Eric and Arthur exchanged a glance.
That alone was enough.
They understood.
Arthur handed his shield to Eric.
The Predator's attention immediately shifted toward him.
Eric feigned an attack.
The Predator tightened his guard.
But this time...
The deception belonged to Eric.
He hurled the shield.
The Predator stepped sideways to avoid the flying object.
Then he felt something grab his legs.
Arthur.
Arthur had lunged low and seized both of his legs.
Before the Predator could react, Arthur lifted him high into the air and slammed him violently into the stone floor.
The hunter had become the prey.
Arthur and Eric descended upon him with a storm of kicks and blows.
The Predator could do little more than shield his face and writhe beneath the relentless assault.
The beating continued—
Until something shot through the air at nearly invisible speed.
It struck Eric squarely in the chest.
Time froze.
Sound vanished.
An arrow.
A hidden bolt fired from the Predator's crossbow.
Eric's body stiffened.
For a brief moment, he couldn't comprehend what had happened.
Then he staggered backward before collapsing onto one knee.
A searing pain burned through the right side of his chest.
Blood dripped onto the ground.
His breathing became ragged.
His vision slowly blurred.
Across the battlefield, Arthur stood frozen.
He didn't know whether to help Eric or prepare for the Predator's next move.
Meanwhile, the Predator slowly rose to his feet.
He retrieved only his hatchet.
His face was bruised beneath the torn scarf, and his eyes burned with murderous hunger.
Yet his focus remained fixed on one person.
Eric.
Wounded.
Weak.
Easy prey.
The Predator lunged like a starving beast.
But at the last second, his prey was shoved away.
Arthur had seen his intention.
Without hesitation, he charged forward and slammed his shoulder into Eric, knocking him out of harm's way.
Then he faced the Predator with nothing but his bare hands.
Arthur clinched him immediately, locking both arms around the back of his head and driving several brutal knee strikes into him.
The Predator broke free almost instantly.
His hatchet flashed.
The strike nearly took Arthur's head off.
Only a desperate retreat saved him, though a shallow cut opened across his face.
Arthur moved sideways and positioned himself between Eric and the Predator.
His fists rose into a defensive stance.
His eyes never left his opponent.
The Predator watched for a moment.
Then he tossed away the hatchet.
Next came the belt carrying most of his remaining weapons.
Apparently...
He had accepted a fistfight.
Without another word, he attacked.
Heavy punches.
Explosive kicks.
Every strike was precise, deliberate, and terrifyingly fast.
Arthur met the assault head-on, blocking and evading whenever possible.
When the Predator overcommitted, Arthur slipped around him with a quick hook and a sidestep.
The Predator spun.
A spinning back kick shot toward Arthur's head.
Arthur avoided it.
A second kick followed immediately.
This one connected.
Pain exploded across his face.
The battle continued.
Arthur threw several punches.
The Predator dodged and deflected them all.
Then came a counter.
A devastating punch pierced Arthur's defense and buried itself in his liver.
Arthur's body froze, Agony surged through him.
The Predator tried to capitalize on the opening.
Arthur had no choice but to clinch again, restricting his opponent's movement long enough to recover.
While they struggled, the Predator suddenly drove his hand toward Arthur's face.
His finger aimed directly for Arthur's eye, Arthur felt unbearable pain, causing him to scream until
Instinctively, he slammed his forehead into the Predator's face with a savage headbutt.
Both men separated.
Distance returned between them.
For Arthur, intelligence and strategy mattered far more than strength now.
He began circling.
A feint with his right leg earned a brief moment of hesitation from the Predator.
That was enough
Arthur fired a low kick into the Predator's thigh.
His strategy was simple.
Take away the Predator's mobility.
Every attack was met with a counter.
A punch, then movement.
A low kick, then an angle change.
Everything was building toward a single opportunity.
One chance to end the fight.
(Alright... now or never.)
Long minutes passed.
Both men were suffering from their injuries.
In a battle this even, revealing pain was a fatal mistake.
Silence itself became a weapon.
The Predator tightened his guard.
Arthur bounced lightly on the balls of his feet.
Ready.
Waiting.
The Predator's steps had changed.
Each time his foot touched the ground, a hint of pain showed.
Arthur noticed.
And now
He believed his plan would work.
There was no turning back now.
Arthur advanced with his usual rhythm—light hops and deceptive movements.
Then he launched a low kick toward the inside of the Predator's thigh.
The Predator expected it.
He raised his leg to block the kick.
But Arthur altered the trajectory at the last moment.
His leg hooked around the Predator's ankle and violently yanked it away.
The sudden loss of balance created the opening he needed.
A high kick exploded upward.
The strike smashed into the Predator's head.
His body staggered backward until his back crashed against the wall.
Before he could recover, Arthur was already upon him.
A barrage of devastating punches hammered into every part of his body.
The Predator couldn't even raise his arms to defend himself.
Arthur grabbed his shirt with his left hand and unleashed punch after punch with his right.
One.
Two.
Three.
The final blow sent him crashing to the ground.
The Predator rolled away and somehow managed to stand.
The moment he raised his head—
Arthur was charging again like a raging bull.
The Predator instinctively raised both arms to cover his face.
Then he remembered what Arthur excelled at most.
Too late.
Powerful arms wrapped around him from behind.
Arthur lifted him high into the air and slammed him back down.
Pinning him beneath his legs, Arthur locked both hands around the Predator's throat and squeezed.
Even after everything, the Predator continued to struggle.
Inside Arthur's mind, one thought remained clear.
He wasn't the one who would finish this fight.
— Eric! Eric!!!
Elsewhere, Eric was still reeling from his wounds.
His vision remained blurred.
His mind was drowning in confusion.
Then he heard a familiar voice.
— What's wrong with you, Eric?!
...
— Aren't you supposed to be a gifted swordsman?!
...
— Where's that gifted strength of yours?!
The words struck harder than any wound.
Pressure crushed down on Eric.
He screamed.
— I can't... I can't!
Arthur's eyes widened.
Something was clearly wrong.
At the same time, the Predator's resistance grew stronger.
— Eric, stop this pathetic nonsense and get up!
Finally, Eric's vision cleared.
He turned toward the voice.
Arthur was still holding the Predator down.
— What are you staring at for?!
— Finish him!
Eric ripped the arrow from his chest.
Then he ran.
He raised the bloodstained arrow high above his head and lunged toward the Predator's face.
The Predator deliberately tilted his head to one side.
His eyes calmly followed the razor-sharp tip of the arrow descending toward his face.
Then, in the very next instant—
With effortless grace, he shifted his head the other way.
The arrow missed.
At the same time, he broke free from Arthur's hold, kicked Eric backward, and drove his elbow into Arthur's face.
the Predator escaped from being the prey.
He staggered back, breathing heavily.
Even so, he looked no more capable of continuing than the others.
"The jewel"...
"I only need the jewel"
...
Many thoughts are swirling in Eric's mind
"This bastard... is he really normal human?"
...
"Why is he after the jewel?"
...
"And why did he lure us here?"
...
"Or perhaps..."
...
"Of course."
During the brief lull that followed, while everyone struggled to catch their breath, Eric finally understood.
The jewel had been the Predator's objective from the very beginning.
That was why he had focused so intensely on Arthur—the one carrying it.
Before anyone could act—
— Arthur!!
Eric's shout made everyone turn toward him.
— Destroy the jewel !
......
— ...What?
.
— Destroy the damned jewel!
For the first time, genuine confusion flashed across the Predator's face.
He immediately snatched up the nearest object and hurled it at Eric to distract him.
Then he charged straight at Arthur.
Arthur stood frozen.
He had no idea what to do.
But Eric intercepted the Predator before he could reach him.
— Destroy it, Arthur!
The jewel was the reason they had come this far.
The reason they had risked their lives.
The reason they had crossed treacherous terrain and overcome countless obstacles.
And now Eric was telling him to destroy it?
Arthur hesitated.
Only for a moment.
The determination in Eric's voice was enough.
Slowly, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the jewel.
The instant the Predator saw it, he exploded forward.
He crashed into Eric and sent him slamming into Arthur.
The jewel slipped from Arthur's hand.
It struck the floor and began rolling across the ground, the sound of its impact echoing throughout the chamber.
The Predator lunged for it immediately.
But Eric's kick intercepted him at the last second.
Arthur dove toward the jewel and stretched out his hand.
The Predator stomped down on his arm before he could reach it.
Arthur answered with a powerful punch that forced him backward.
The two immediately clashed again, directly above the rolling jewel.
Meanwhile, Eric finally managed to seize it.
But the Predator grabbed a stone from the ground and hurled it.
The projectile struck Eric's arm.
The jewel flew from his grasp.
Once more, it rolled away.
All three men rushed toward it simultaneously.
Whenever one of them came close to grabbing it, another intervened at the last possible moment.
A shove, kick, strike.
Anything was enough to send it skittering away again.
The jewel became the center of absolute chaos.
It bounced between feet and blows while the three desperately fought for possession.
And it continued...
Until the Predator finally snapped.
— Enough!!!
He reached into his clothing and produced something he had not discarded with the rest of his weapons.
He pulled a metal pin from it.
Then dropped it to the ground.
Eric's eyes widened instantly, when He recognized it.
— Get down!!!
Arthur reacted immediately.
Both he and Eric threw themselves to the floor.
The next second—
A blinding flash erupted.
A deafening crack exploded through the chamber.
The noise was enough to shatter concentration and leave ears ringing.
The Predator took several steps forward until the jewel rested beside his foot.
— Finally...
He bent down and picked it up.
Then wiped it clean against his shirt.
The moment he examined it closely, his expression changed.
This wasn't the radiant purple jewel he had been chasing.
Instead, it was nothing more than a dull, transparent crystal.
...
— Hey.
The Predator turned toward the voice.
Arthur stood there.
The real jewel rested in his hand.
Then he dropped it onto the floor before him.
— Wait, don't—
Too late.
Arthur stomped down with all his strength.
The jewel shattered.
Fragments scattered across the ground.
Its glow vanished instantly.
— NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!
The Predator's scream echoed through the chamber.
Rage.
Madness.
Despair.
All fused into a single howl.
Arthur laughed.
— Happy now?
Then everything changed.
The Predator vanished.
One moment he was standing still.
The next, he was in front of Arthur.
His hand wrapped around Arthur's throat and lifted him into the air as though he weighed nothing.
Arthur struggled desperately.
Barely able to breathe, he pulled out the knife he had carried since entering this place and drove it into the Predator's shoulder.
The Predator didn't even flinch.
Not even slightly.
A moment later, he hurled Arthur away.
Arthur slammed into the opposite wall with tremendous force.
Then the Predator ripped the knife from his shoulder and threw it back at him.
This time, there seemed to be no escape.
Arthur could only raise an arm in a futile attempt to protect himself.
Then he closed his eyes.
Accepting what was coming.
Suddenly—
A sharp metallic clang rang through the chamber.
Arthur felt no pain.
No blade pierced him.
Slowly, he opened his eyes.
Something stood before him.
Or rather...
Someone.
A being.
Its entire form was black.
The boundaries of its body could only be distinguished by the dark gray-black aura surrounding it.
Like a living shadow.
Its eyes glowed white.
A faint, ghostly light radiated from them.
It possessed the shape of a swordsman.
And in its hand rested a blade that shared the same dark nature.
Apparently, it had intercepted the knife meant for Arthur.
Even the Predator looked stunned.
— What...? What is that thing?
His gaze shifted toward Eric.
The young swordsman was slowly rising to his feet.
Calm.
Far too calm for the chaos around him.
— Did you create that?
Eric did not answer.
He merely stared back with cold, unwavering eyes.
The Predator began pacing.
— You're a gifted swordsman...
— What art is this?
...
— No, the real question is, who the hell are you?
Eric tightened his grip around his sword.
Dark energy began to pour from the blade.
Dense shadows coiled around it like living serpents.
The air itself seemed to darken.
— My name is Eric Samuel.
— The Thirteenth Heir of the Shadow Art.
..
— Since ancient times, practitioners of my art have been hunted down and slaughtered by the Lords of Lumiere.
— Those who survived became known as the Heirs.
The shadow entity stepped forward.
It picked up the Predator's sword and tossed it to the ground before him.
Eric's voice remained cold.
— I'll give you enough time to pick up your sword.
He slowly raised his own blade.
The shadows around him thickened.
Growing darker.
Denser.
More oppressive.
— And those are the last words you'll ever hear from me.
...
A grin slowly split across the Predator's face.
He walked toward his fallen sword.
With a flick of his foot, he kicked it into the air and caught it effortlessly.
His glowing eyes locked onto Eric.
This battle would be nothing like the one before.
The Predator lunged.
His sword shot forward in a deadly thrust.
Eric didn't even need to move much.
A slight shift of his blade redirected the attack.
The Predator accelerated.
His strikes became faster.
More vicious.
More powerful.
Yet Eric remained exactly where he stood.
Parrying every blow.
Deflecting every strike.
Not giving a single step.
The clash between two Gifted warriors had become so fast that an ordinary man could scarcely follow it.
Arthur could do nothing but stare in astonishment at the battle unfolding before him.
In another exchange, the Predator launched yet another attack.
He could now calculate thousands of possible trajectories through which Eric might move. He struck with absolute certainty, aiming for an angle he believed would end the fight.
His blade came down in a sudden, decisive arc—
But nothing happened.
Eric had vanished from his sight.
The Predator spun around, searching desperately, but there was no trace of him anywhere.
He froze in place, trying to anticipate the next move. His instincts screamed that something was coming, yet he could not determine from where.
Then his eyes widened—
A faint shift. A blend of instinct and muscle memory.
At the very last moment, he managed to intercept Eric's strike aimed at his neck.
Before he could counterattack, Eric had already disappeared again.
The Predator began moving cautiously, every sense fully engaged. What ordinary vision could not perceive, his perception could.
Every time Eric attacked from an impossible angle, the Predator managed to neutralize it. Blindingly fast strikes erupted from all directions—an endless circular storm of motion.
Yet he blocked every one of them in fractions of a second, responding instantly with counterattacks of his own.
Eric's strategy evolved.
He began appearing and disappearing repeatedly, relentlessly, attempting to create even a single moment of hesitation.
The Predator stood still, searching for the perfect angle of attack. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, as if listening to the battlefield itself.
When he opened them—
He struck.
A thrust from behind.
And surprisingly, he managed to graze Eric's cheek, leaving a shallow cut.
So this opponent… was not to be underestimated.
Eric stepped backward.
The Predator realized something Eric had been exploiting all along.
Whenever he blinked, even for a fraction of a second, Eric would vanish from his sight.
But as long as he kept his eyes open, there was no real problem—even if Eric disappeared.
This time, the Predator would attack first.
He moved like a serpent, silently closing in on his prey.
The moment he raised his sword—
Eric tore off his long scarf and threw it into his face.
The Predator cut it cleanly in half.
And in that instant—
Eric vanished once again.
But the Predator did not panic.
His eyes could see even in complete darkness.
He trusted them without question.
He began circling once more, reading movement through sight, sound, and even scent.
And then—
A tearing pain erupted across his back.
A shadow of Eric had struck him.
The Predator tried to retaliate—
But the shadow dissipated into nothingness.
Shadows cannot be seen, heard, or smelled… how am I supposed to track them?
The thought only deepened his frustration.
All he could do now was end this before it worsened.
For the first time—
Eric was the one smiling.
The battle resumed.
The Predator attacked relentlessly, but Eric flowed through the attacks like a shifting shadow behind him.
Even the Predator struggled to track his movements.
Every missed strike was met with a punch or kick that stole his breath for a moment.
Eric refused to clash blades directly, as if mocking him.
The Predator retreated slightly, controlling his breathing.
One eye on Eric, the other scanning the surroundings.
Then he moved.
A barrage of thrown knives came from multiple directions.
Eric tracked them all and deflected them effortlessly.
But the Predator had another goal.
While Eric was occupied, he retrieved his crossbow.
A slow, confident smile formed on his face.
He aimed at Eric.
Eric noticed immediately.
The Predator fired.
The arrow tore through the air at a speed nearly impossible to evade.
He already imagined victory.
But in the next instant—
He sensed something beneath him.
A long, faint line connected to his shadow… as though something else was attached to it.
And when he looked up—
Eric was already right in front of him.
Sword raised upward.
Before the Predator could react—
The blade fell.
A long, deep wound tore across his body.
He staggered backward, blood pouring with every step.
Yet that same smile remained on his face, as if he still hadn't fully understood defeat.
He took one last look at Eric.
Then collapsed onto his knees.
And finally fell to the ground in silence.
....
Eric sheathed his sword once more, then walked toward the area where the gemstone fragments were scattered across the ground. Carefully, he gathered the remains and wrapped them inside a piece of cloth.
After that, he approached Arthur, who was still resting on one knee, unable to rise due to the severity of his injuries.
Eric extended his hand toward him.
Arthur took it in silence, and Eric helped him stand.
Arthur leaned his arm against Eric's shoulder, relying on him for support as they began to move. His steps were heavy, his limp clearly visible under the weight of pain.
Together, they forged a path forward—toward what might be an exit from that place.
Neither of them spoke.
There was nothing left worth saying after everything that had happened.
Behind them, the Predator lay motionless on the ground, a silent witness to a long and brutal battle that had drained all three of them.
With every step they took away, the shadows of that confrontation slowly faded behind them