While the clash of steel echoed across the battlefield, Cain’s body collapsed, unable to endure further. Soldiers rushed to his side, lifting his unconscious form and retreating from the chaos as the swordsmen’s duel raged on.
As Cain’s body faltered, his mind drifted into the depths of his memories—a time long buried yet never forgotten. He found himself back in his childhood, watching a younger version of himself. His past self was nothing like the warrior he had become. Back then, he was a thinker, a dreamer—a trait scorned by his tribe. Deemed weak and useless, he was cast out into the unforgiving wilderness.
The scene shifted, showing the vast world beyond the tribe’s walls. At first, Cain marveled at its beauty: endless skies, rivers that sparkled like gems, and lands teeming with life. But beauty was accompanied by cruelty. He learned the harshness of survival, the duplicity of men, and the pain of solitude. Yet, despite it all, he persevered. He mastered the languages of the countries he traversed and grew in knowledge and skill, eventually setting his sights on the fabled kingdom of Velmora.
After a grueling five-day journey, he stood before Velmora’s towering walls, a mixture of awe and exhaustion washing over him. He joined the line of travelers and eventually entered the bustling kingdom. While seeking work in its vibrant streets, his search was interrupted when a small figure collided with him, knocking him to the ground.
“Sorry, mister! I didn’t see you there!” a cheerful voice chirped. A little girl, no older than eight, scrambled to her feet, dusting herself off.
Before Cain could respond, a butler appeared, his stern expression softening as he addressed her. “Young miss, you must not run from your dancing lessons. This behavior is unbecoming of you.”
Turning to Cain, the butler’s demeanor shifted to apologetic. “Young man, I sincerely apologize for my mistress’s recklessness. Are you unharmed?”
Cain winced but managed a smile. “I’m fine—just a couple of bruises.”
The girl giggled, her energy undiminished. Meanwhile, the butler, noting Cain’s disheveled appearance, asked, “Are you searching for work, perhaps?”
Cain nodded. “Yes, I’m looking for a job—something suited to my skills. I’m well-versed in teaching and languages.”
The butler’s expression turned thoughtful. “Then allow me to assist. Consider it compensation for the inconvenience my young mistress has caused.”
But before Cain could respond further, the world around him dissolved into darkness. His vision blurred, and a shadowy figure stepped forward. It was himself—an alternate self he had long buried but never truly silenced. This version of Cain exuded confidence and danger, a stark contrast to the man he thought he was.
“So, you’ve called for me. That must mean we’re losing,” the figure remarked, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Oh well, let me take over.”
Cain hesitated but then extended his hand, grasping the shadow’s. “I’ll leave it to you. You’re more capable than I am anyway.”
The shadow Cain grinned, his eyes gleaming. “Don’t worry. I’ll handle it.”
Meanwhile, the duel between the masked man and the Swordsman of Light had escalated to devastating heights. Blades clashed in rapid, precise motions, each strike tearing apart the earth and sending shockwaves rippling across the field.
The masked man unleashed a flurry of attacks, his blade carving through the air in deadly arcs—sideways, diagonal, relentless. But the Swordsman of Light countered with precision and grace, twisting his body with each strike to find gaps in the masked man’s defense, delivering thrusts that forced his opponent to retreat.
The masked man shifted his stance, his entire presence radiating overwhelming pressure. The Swordsman of Light instinctively stepped back, his grip tightening on his sword. Dark smoke began to coil around the masked man’s body, enveloping him like a living shroud. His form expanded, grotesque and monstrous, his weapon now an extension of the darkness.
With a guttural roar, the masked man swung upward, unleashing a wave of dark energy that carved through the battlefield, its trajectory heading straight for the retreating soldiers carrying Cain’s body.
The Swordsman of Light acted swiftly, summoning a radiant barrier that clashed with the dark wave, neutralizing its energy. But as the wave dissipated, both swordsmen froze, a chill running down their spines.
From where Cain lay, an eerie aura began to emanate, thick and oppressive. Both ally and enemy paused, fear gripping their hearts as the air grew heavy. Cain’s body stirred, and his eyes opened, glowing faintly with an unnatural light.
A wicked grin spread across his face as he rose to his feet. “Ahhh… I’m finally back,” he said, his voice echoing with a chilling edge of excitement.
The battlefield fell silent, the eerie aura radiating from Cain like a storm ready to erupt.
The battlefield stood still, every eye fixed on Cain. The eerie aura that surrounded him churned like a storm, thick with malice and raw power. The soldiers—both allies and enemies—could feel it in their bones, an oppressive weight that made the air itself seem unbreathable.
Cain took a step forward, and the ground beneath him cracked. Dark tendrils of energy seeped from his body, snaking across the battlefield like living shadows. His grin widened as his voice rang out, sharp and thunderous.
"You’ve pushed me too far," he growled, his tone vibrating with a mixture of rage and exhilaration. "Now, it’s my turn to show you what real power looks like."
He raised his hand, his fingers curling as if grasping an invisible force. The tendrils of shadow converged at his palm, forming a pulsating sphere of dark energy. The sphere hummed with power, its edges crackling with arcs of violet lightning. The very ground beneath him began to wither, as if the energy was leeching the life from the earth itself.
The enemy soldiers stood frozen in fear, their weapons trembling in their hands. Some attempted to flee, but the dark tendrils darted out, piercing through their ranks and dragging them back into place. Their screams echoed across the battlefield, silenced only when the shadows constricted and snapped.
“Run all you want,” Cain taunted, his voice carrying over the chaos. “You won’t escape.”
With a roar, Cain hurled the dark sphere into the heart of the enemy formation. It struck the ground with a deafening explosion, releasing a shockwave of pure destruction. The force of the blast obliterated everything in its radius, soldiers, siege engines, and terrain alike. A swirling vortex of shadow and lightning erupted from the epicenter, expanding outward and consuming everything in its path. The ground was left scorched and cratered, a monument to Cain's unrestrained wrath.
Allies who had been watching in awe now shielded themselves from the sheer power radiating from Cain. Even the Swordsman of Light, locked in his duel with the masked man, paused for a split second, his gaze darting toward the devastation.
The masked man let out a low chuckle, his monstrous form glowing faintly with dark energy. "Looks like your pet
monster’s awake," he sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. "Can’t wait to see how this plays out."
The Swordsman of Light didn’t respond, his grip tightening on his blade as he refocused on his opponent. “Stay out of this,” he muttered under his breath, steeling himself.
Cain, meanwhile, stood amidst the carnage he had unleashed, the shadows writhing around him like a second skin. He turned his gaze to the remaining enemy soldiers, his expression cold and unyielding.
“I’m not done yet,” he said, his voice carrying an almost cruel edge. He slammed his axe into the ground, and the earth beneath the enemy forces erupted, spewing forth jagged pillars of shadow-infused stone that impaled those who hadn’t fled.
The few survivors dropped their weapons and fell to their knees, begging for mercy. Cain took a step toward them, the ground trembling with each movement. His glowing eyes narrowed, his eerie aura intensifying.
“You chose the wrong side,” he said, raising his axe once more.
But before he could strike, a voice rang out—strong and commanding. “That’s enough, Cain.”
Cain froze mid-motion, his body stiffening as he turned to face the Swordsman of Light, who stood a short distance away, his radiant blade glowing with an intense, golden light. The air between them seemed to crackle with tension, a clash of opposing forces brewing in the stillness.
The Swordsman lowered his blade slightly, his gaze sharp yet calm. “You’re not Cain,” he said firmly, his voice cutting through the eerie silence. “Who are you, and why are you using his body?”
Cain tilted his head, a wicked grin spreading across his face. His eyes, dark and glinting with malice, studied the Swordsman like a predator sizing up its prey. “Ah,” he began, his voice dripping with mockery, “so you noticed. Impressive. Most wouldn’t have survived long enough to ask such a question.”
“Answer me,” the Swordsman demanded, taking a step forward, his blade glowing brighter as light magic pulsed around him. “Where is Cain? What have you done to him?”
The figure wearing Cain’s body let out a low, humorless chuckle. “Cain… Cain is sleeping,” he said, his tone casual but laced with menace. “He grew tired of fighting, so he handed over the reins to someone more… capable.” He spread his arms wide, as if presenting himself. “You’re speaking to his behalf.”
The Swordsman’s expression hardened, his grip tightening on his sword. “Whatever you are, leave his body. Now.”
“Oh, but why would I do that?” the entity replied, taking a step closer. Shadows coiled and writhed around him, their oppressive energy spreading through the battlefield. “This body is strong—perfect, even. It would be such a waste to give it back to someone so… soft.”
“Cain is no coward,” the Swordsman countered sharply. “He’s more than you’ll ever be.”
The entity’s grin faltered, his expression darkening. “Careful, Swordsman,” he warned, his voice dropping to a chilling tone. “I don’t take kindly to insults.”
The Swordsman of Light raised his blade, its brilliance intensifying, pushing back the encroaching shadows. “I won’t let you desecrate Cain’s name or his body. Either you leave willingly, or I’ll force you out.”
The battlefield grew silent once more as the two forces faced off, the remaining soldiers retreating further, too terrified to interfere. Cain—or the entity within him—smirked again, gripping his weapon tightly as dark energy surged around him.
“Interesting,” he said, his tone both amused and defiant. “Very well. Let’s see if your light can pierce through my darkness.”
With that, the ground beneath them trembled, and the battlefield braced for another clash that promised to reshape the balance of power yet again.