"Honestly, Warlock, I was starting to think you didn't have it in you," Grian drawled, taking a leisurely step toward me. In contrast, Tom retreated back toward him, a cowardly look etched across his rat face. "I thought we'd have to resort to harsher methods to get some real info out of you, but my brother had faith. He could tell you were soft, you see. Said we just needed to squeeze Tom enough, and you'd crack. And look at you, letting Tom in on your plans just so you could protect him."

He paused dramatically, wiping a nonexistent tear from his eye in mock sympathy. "It almost makes me want to weep," he sneered cruelly. "Come along now. Sebastian's going to be ecstatic once he hears about this."

I shifted my stance carefully, subtly assessing my options. Running seemed impossible. There was no way I could break through the loose stones in the wall quickly enough before Grian caught me or raised the alarm but giving up was completely out of the question. Handing myself over willingly to Grian or Sebastian would be worse than death. That left me with only one real choice.

I had to fight.

Grian's sharp eyes caught the instant my decision was made, and a sinister grin spread across his face.

"Oh. Oh!" he laughed, draping an arm mockingly around Tom's trembling shoulders. "You're going to fight, are you? Ha! I was hoping you'd say that."

With a shove, he pushed Tom roughly behind him, drawing his sword in one swift, practiced motion. A flicker of uncertainty crossed my mind as I looked at the blade. I'd only trained with Billy using spears, never against a swordsman. Still, I couldn't let doubt weaken my resolve. The moment for hesitation had passed. It was fight or die.

Grian surged forward, his sword flashing out in a quick, probing thrust aimed straight at my neck. It was clearly a lethal strike, yet he executed it casually, fully expecting me to deflect it. I knocked it aside with my spear, stepping back to create space.

"So, you actually do know something," Grian mused with interest, casually circling around me. "We suspected as much, given all those little meetings you had in the kitchens. But you know how it is; the workers there are so… annoyingly loyal. Sure, it's admirable but it's also ridiculously inconvenient."

He lunged again, his blade flickering like lightning as he unleashed a flurry of slashes at my torso and limbs, clearly testing my defenses. My training with Billy kicked in, and I blocked high, retreated from the low strikes, then seized a brief opening, thrusting my spear sharply toward his chest. Grian's confident demeanor faltered momentarily as he narrowly sidestepped my attack.

"Oh," he said, his voice darkening, the playful arrogance replaced by something far more dangerous. "You actually want to fight back. Excellent. Let's see exactly how much you've learned."

He settled into a more aggressive stance, and I tightened my grip, adrenaline surging through my veins as we prepared to clash again. Grian smiled coldly, his sword reflecting the dim moonlight as he moved with predatory grace. I took a steadying breath and readied my spear, the familiar weight grounding me.

Grian lunged forward, a quick slash aimed at my side. I pivoted sharply, bringing the spear shaft around to deflect. Steel scraped against wood as I knocked his blade away, responding with a rapid jab at his chest. He twisted fluidly, my spearhead missing by inches.

"You're better than expected," he sneered, immediately pressing his attack. His sword came again, a vicious downward strike that I barely parried, the impact vibrating painfully through my arms.

I gritted my teeth, leveraging my newfound strength to shove him back. It bought me mere seconds before he immediately surged forward again with relentless pressing and precise strikes, forcing me steadily backward down the darkened passage.

"Getting tired?" he mocked, noticing the slight hesitation in my footwork.

"Not even close," I shot back, heart pounding, sweat stinging my eyes as I forced myself into action. Billy's voice echoed in my head, Control the distance. Keep him at bay.

I feinted left, baiting Grian into a premature strike. He took it, blade slashing wide, and I quickly spun my spear back around, landing a shallow but satisfying slice along his thigh.

Grian snarled in surprise, quickly retreating several steps, his eyes furious. "You little shit!" he spat, fingers briefly checking the blood now seeping from the wound.

He wasted no time, immediately launching a fierce assault. His blade danced through the air, a flurry of precise attacks designed to overwhelm and injure me. A heavy overhand blow aimed at my head swiftly transitioned into a sharp thrust to my chest, then flowed into a low sweeping slash aimed at my legs. The adrenaline coursing through my veins heightened every sense and reflex, allowing me to throw my spear shaft into each strike just barely in time, the sounds of wood striking metal echoing sharply through the corridor. But even I knew this desperate defense couldn't last. Grian was not only more experienced, he also had a far superior weapon. Despite the initial effectiveness of my spear's reach, the crude, cheap wood wasn't built for sustained combat. With each parry, splinters flew, and small cracks began spider-webbing along the shaft, growing deeper and more numerous by the second.

"That's right," he sneered, lunging forward unexpectedly. Before I could react, his blade slipped past my guard and cut shallowly across my ribs. The sting was sharp and hot, my blood immediately soaking into the fabric of my shirt. "You're just prolonging the inevitable."

I gritted my teeth, trying to steady my breathing. He pressed forward again, knocking aside my weakening spear and landing another precise cut on the opposite side of my torso. Pain blossomed in fresh intensity.

"And let me tell you—" Grian's voice dripped with sinister glee as he readied another strike, "—I'm going to thoroughly enjoy that inevitable moment. It's been far too long since I've had someone to properly play with."

He surged forward once more, attempting to repeat the maneuver that had injured me. But this time, anger and desperation hardened my resolve. I braced myself, meeting his blade with renewed determination. The clash rattled my bones, but I held firm, driving him briefly backward. Seizing the opportunity, I lunged forward with a thrust of my own. Unfortunately, Grian anticipated the move, smoothly sidestepping my spear and responding instantly with a slash across my left arm, opening another bleeding wound.

"Ahh, it's been too long!" He laughed cruelly, bouncing on the balls of his feet, eyes alight with sadistic joy. "Being cooped up in that prison left me without any real fun. Some fights here and there of course but this"---he spread his arms wide—"this is what it's about. I've sparred, of course, and sparring is all well and good, but this—this is what I truly live for."

He launched into another merciless combination, forcing me further back as he sliced yet another thin, stinging cut across my torso. My breath grew ragged, pain radiating from multiple injuries as blood steadily seeped from the shallow yet draining wounds.

"Yes, yes this is it," he smiled. "Tell me, do you feel it as well? Do you feel the rush?"

What I fel wast the fight rapidly approaching a critical point. I knew I'd either have to fully commit and heal myself, or take a risk and try to finish this fight decisively before my strength waned. The thought of revealing my power prematurely was troubling. Once he knew about it, my trump card would vanish. But Grian's strategy of wearing me down with dozens of shallow cuts was starting to pay off, pushing me ever closer to desperation.

"Oh, no words?" he mocked, eyes glinting with sadistic amusement as he danced just out of my range. "Come on now, don't go quiet on me. You were enjoying it just a moment ago, weren't you? That lucky little strike you landed. That felt good, didn't it? Gave you a rush."

He jabbed his blade toward me in a lazy, playful strike that he clearly expected me to deflect. It was purely a provocation, meant to draw me into a foolish counter. When I didn't bite, he raised an eyebrow in mock surprise and laughed softly, stepping back with exaggerated boredom.

"I suppose it's getting late," he sighed theatrically, circling closer, his movements seemingly casual. "My brother will be along soon anyway, and he'll want his own turn. But before then…"

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He lunged suddenly, ferociously, raining down yet another flurry of precise, lightning-quick strikes that forced me onto the defensive. My hands trembled with effort as I desperately parried each blow, but he managed to slice shallow cuts into my shoulder and ribs.

"I know what they call me, by the way," Grian said softly as he briefly paused, watching me carefully with a cruel, eager smile. "I know what my nickname is. One Eye. Scary, isn't it? You've heard it, of course. And I can see you wondering exactly how I earned it. I don't think you ever got to witness it?"

His tongue flicked across his lips hungrily, and I involuntarily took a step back. Cold dread seeped through my body, draining the adrenaline from my limbs. Up until now, every injury had been something I was confident I could heal but losing an eye was different. I wasn't sure even my powers extended that far. Nor did I want to find out.

Grian saw my hesitation and grinned widely, sensing my fear. He surged forward again with a slash—a feint meant to force my guard aside—and then swiftly transitioned into a precise, lethal thrust aimed directly at my gut. In that instant, instinct kicked in. I knew exactly how he'd move. I knew how he'd follow through, and I made the split-second decision to let his blade strike home.

Surprise lit up Grian's eyes when he felt his sword puncture my guts. It was an easy enough strike that I knew he expected me to block or parry it. Finding it not only land, but pierce all the way through my body stunned him. It stunned him so bad, he barely seemed to register my own weapon doing the same to him only slightly higher, hitting his lung.

"Surprise," I whispered harshly, seizing his sword arm to prevent him from pulling away. His eyes were wide, incredulous, darting from the spear in his chest to the sword still lodged in mine.

"You…think…" Grian rasped, struggling to breathe, his words laboured and bubbling with blood. "…my brother…will let either of us…die?"

With a surge of strength born of pure adrenaline, I grabbed him by the throat, squeezing as tightly as I could. The panic that flared in his one good eye gave me immense satisfaction. "That wasn't the surprise," I hissed, pulling him close enough to whisper into his ear before hurling him violently into the stone wall behind him.

He collapsed, his grip slipping from his sword, which remained embedded in me. He laughed weakly through bloody, ragged breaths, trying to regain his footing and failing. Blood ran freely from his chest, but he still looked up at me with defiance.

"You…might have done some damage," he gasped, a smirk pulling weakly at his bloodied lips. "But you're not getting out of this alive."

I regarded him coldly, without a trace of fear or uncertainty, and pulled the sword free from my gut with a grimace of relief. My mana surged immediately, flowing warmly and healing the wound within moments, skin and muscle stitching themselves seamlessly back together.

"Oh, but you're wrong about that," I said calmly, twirling his blood-slicked blade experimentally in my hand, the pain reducing now that I was healing. "The real surprise, Grian, is this."

I rolled my neck, feeling renewed strength flood through my body as my mana revitalised me. I met his horrified gaze and offered a cold, ruthless smile.

"I'm completely fine."

A predatory grin spread across my face as confusion flickered over Grian's. His brow furrowed, unsure, even as the blood dripped steadily from his mouth.

"That's right," I said, voice low and triumphant. "I have powers."

His eyes, already beginning to glaze over from blood loss, twitched slightly with recognition. And then—absurdly—he started to laugh.

"You…" he choked, splattering blood down his chin. "You think that matters? You think that's going to save you?"

He coughed again, and more blood came out with it. The sound was ragged, wet, and awful, but the grin on his face remained like he'd heard the world's cruelest joke.

"My brother's coming," he wheezed. "He's going to love this. Oh, you poor bastard… you have powers. I thought it was going to be bad for you before. Now you're really fucked."

This time it was my smile that faltered as laughter racked his body again. The thrill of winning the fight had pumped me up but his words sobered me, pulling me out of my smugness. Coming back down from the high reminded me I was on a time limit and even if I had come out on top in the fight against Grian, there was no saying I would be able to do the same against his brother. Looking around, I couldn't see that rat Tom which meant I was nearly out of time. I needed to get back on with my plan but if I couldn't get to Tom, I'd take my pound of flesh from Grian.

I knelt beside Grian, still laughing through blood-soaked lips.

"Which eye was it again?" I asked quietly.

He looked at me with a flicker of defiance. "Fuck you," he spat—or tried to. It was more of a pitiful dribble that slid down his chin and chest.

"You're right, it doesn't matter."

I drove his own sword into his left eye, the blade punching through to his brain with a slick crunch. His body jerked once, twitching violently. I pulled the sword free, not quite satisfied, and drove it into the right one as well.

"Maybe now you'll have a new nickname," I laughed to myself in my delirium. I'd lost a lot of blood and the healing wasn't instant, despite the front I was putting on.

I left my damaged spear buried in his corpse. The shaft had nearly splintered anyway. Instead, I took up his sword. I wasn't as practiced with a blade, but I knew enough. Besides, I didn't trust the spear to hold up in another fight. The sword felt heavy but solid in my grip as I gave it a few tentative swings. It would do.

A relieved breath left my body as I began to move. The healing was doing its job and it was time for me to get out of there. The only thing niggling me was being unable to do anything about Tom. The thought of the ratprick escaping unpunished was boiling my blood so when I turned the corner to see him walking towards me with Sebastain's arm around his shoulder I fully locked in on him.

"You fucking prick," I shouted, pointing the tip of my sword in his direction. "You set me up."

He shrunk back from my accusation, attempting to hide behind an unyielding Sebastian. I'm not sure if it was pure rage, hubris, or stupidity but I decided the best course of action was to rush at the pair.

A two handed heavy swing of my sword went at a squealing Tom, only to be blocked by a shadow arm originating from Sebastian.

"Now, now," he said dismissively. "Tom here is the star of the day. My little brother was doubting him but look how good he did!"

He gave Tom the sort of loving smile a farmer gives their livestock.

"Speaking of. Little brother!" Sebastian called out, directing his voice the way I had come from. "Your quarry is trying to interfere with my new favourite toy."

No response came forth and Sebastian's smile slipped from his face. He looked at my face, my body, and then the sword he had hold of with his shadows. A look of sheer rage engulfed his face as it clicked into place for him.

"What have you done?!" He screamed, launching a kick at my chest with the power of a horse.

My body smashed into the stone wall behind me and I fell to the ground disoriented. He didn't give me a chance to get a handle on the situation though before I was kicked again, this time back into the alley where I'd fought his brother. I knew things were going to escalate when he saw Grian's dead body but there wasn't any time for me to react.

"NOOOO!!!" A guttural rage filled cry left Sebastian's throat as he saw his brother dead on the ground, both eyes missing.

"You!" He screamed smashing into me, his body seemingly propelled by the shadows. "You did this!"

A fist crashed into my jaw.

"You killed my brother!"

Another blow. Then another. A barrage of fists, hammering down with unrelenting fury as Sebastian fell into a blind, psychotic rage.

"Elder brother, elder brother—"

He screamed the words in my face, his spittle hot against my skin, quoting some twisted nursery rhyme or soldier's creed.

"Protect me with your life..."

His knuckles cracked against my cheekbone. The world spun.

"Shield me from the demons..."

Pain exploded in my skull as another punch shattered my jaw. I couldn't cry out. I couldn't fight back.

"And save me from the strife."

All I could do was activate my healing and pour mana into my battered body with everything I had. If I didn't, I'd be dead.

"Little brother, little brother—"

The words were almost a sob now, chanted through clenched teeth, heavy with fury and grief.

"You are safe with me…"

His fists were like iron, driven by madness and shadows. They crashed down with a force no man should wield.

"I'll stand against the monsters..."

My vision blurred. Blood filled my mouth. The pain was unbearable. Even with my powers running full tilt, I couldn't out-heal the speed and violence of the assault. My bones were reknitting even as they cracked again under his blows but it was a losing battle.

"Your guard eternally!"

A final flurry of punches struck me with such force I felt the world blink out for a second. My body went limp, my knees gave way and darkness engulfed my vision.

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