Amukelo stared at the creature, sword held firm, as he whispered, "Pao… we need to think of something. I won't be able to keep this up for long."
Behind him, Pao's voice came soft but clear. "Just attack it like you did before."
Amukelo didn't look away from the abomination, but his voice betrayed his disbelief. "What!? You saw it! I can't fight against that thing. My sword barely leaves a scratch!"
"Just trust me," Pao said firmly.
He glanced over his shoulder, saw her standing there—dirt smeared on her robes, hair sticking to her forehead from sweat, three of her still active, her staff trembling with raw energy—but her eyes were resolute. Unshakable.
Amukelo let out a short, ragged laugh. "Ha… Easy thing to ask."
But then he exhaled sharply, calming his breath. "But if I'm going to trust anyone with my life…"
He gripped his sword tighter. "It's going to be you."
Without another word, he launched forward.
The creature responded instantly. Its chest expanded unnaturally, ribs creaking and bulging outward, and then—release.
A thick, dark beam of energy fired from its core like a twisted mana beam, but where mana usually glowed with white light, this shimmered with dark decay.
Amukelo's heart leapt to his throat as the beam came straight for him. His first instinct was to block, but it wasn't like a sword strike. It wasn't something you parried. He tensed up, raised his sword on instinct—
But Pao's voice rang out again. "Circle it! Slowly! Keep closing the distance!"
He gritted his teeth and swerved. The beam tracked him, slower than a sword swing, but unrelenting. He could feel the heat and the pressure bearing down, like it wanted to erase him.
The beam caught up faster than he thought. His body screamed for him to stop and block.
"Run!" Pao shouted.
A transparent shield of blue light appeared between him and the beam, just in time. The beam struck the shield, cracking it instantly like glass under a hammer. Amukelo flinched as the impact flared inches from his face. The shield groaned, and Pao gritted her teeth behind him.
"Just how strong is that beam!?" she hissed through clenched teeth. Her fingers flexed around her staff, channeling every drop of mana she had to keep the shield from snapping entirely.
Amukelo didn't look back. He kept moving, using the time the beam was occupied to close the distance. He ducked under a collapsed pillar, angled toward the creature's flank.
Then the beam stopped.
Pao's voice cracked through the fading mist. "Now!"
Amukelo didn't hesitate. He launched forward like a bolt, his sword raised. The creature turned its head just as he arrived, its jagged claws already rising to meet him.
The clash was brutal. Amukelo's blade met the claw in midair—a violent crash that sent a tremor through his arms. This time, he didn't plant his feet. He let the blow knock him back, just as they'd planned.
He flew, flipping backward before landing hard, his boots dragging through the dirt.
But the creature didn't relent. The second limb came down like a guillotine.
Pao cast her portal, and the claws went through it.
It cast a portal behind its back, but Paos' portal appeared not where the beast expected it. Not behind its back.
This one shimmered at its knee. The creature's own claws shot through the portal and reappeared beneath its leg. It gasped, or made a noise like one, as the claws gashed its own limb, sending it staggering forward.
Amukelo's eyes flickered with understanding.
He darted in. One fluid motion—blade across the torso.
The cut was shallow but effective. The creature stumbled, black mist hissing from its wound like steam.
It snarled, rage vibrating through its voice. The first limb came down again, but Amukelo was already gone, rolling under the blow and retreating several paces back.
He landed, sword at the ready, breath heaving.
His legs were starting to feel the weight. Not just from exhaustion, but from the strain of constantly dancing on the edge of death.
Still, he grinned. Just barely.
"Your own limb," he muttered. "Your own claw, through your own damn leg. That's on her. Not me."
He cast a glance at Pao, whose expression was grim but focused. She nodded slightly.
Amukelo moved like a shadow, blade flashing in and out as he weaved through the broken stone and black mist. Each time he stepped forward, he would deliver one cut, then retreat. Then again. Then again.
The abomination, for all its monstrous size and warped form, was fast. Too fast. But Amukelo was faster in the only way that mattered—he knew when to strike, and when to fall back. Every time he danced within reach of those claws and jagged limbs, Pao was right behind him. Portals appeared in every corner of the chamber now. Some of them just hovered uselessly, never used. Others connected one side of the field to another, redirecting spells, attacks, and even allowing Amukelo to reposition at just the right moment. But most were just distractions.
At first, the creature had been caught off guard every time a portal twisted its own attack back on itself. Every time it slashed, it hesitated—where would its claws emerge? At its own legs? Back? Chest? That fear made it sloppy.
But it adapted. Slowly, terrifyingly, the abomination started thinking. Its attacks became more calculated. It learned the rhythm. It began predicting where the portals might lead and started hesitating before attacking. Even the randomness of Pao's placements started losing its effect. So she changed the tactic again.
Now, it wasn't about baiting attacks—it was about spreading chaos. Portals appeared above the abomination, below it, behind it, next to its feet. Dozens shimmered and disappeared in rapid succession, and the creature had no idea where danger would come from. At the same time, her clones kept hammering with attacks, forcing it to dodge, to flinch, to swing wildly.
Amukelo saw the openings. He pushed in again. One cut across the shoulder. Shallow, but enough to make it recoil. He darted back as a black claw came down in retaliation. Another slash at the side. It turned too slowly to stop him. He ducked through a portal and emerged behind the beast, cutting across its leg. Again, shallow. But every hit mattered.
Still, Amukelo was running on fumes. His arms ached. His legs screamed with exhaustion. Every breath burned his throat. His shirt was torn, soaked in sweat and blood—some of it his, some of it not. But he didn't stop. He couldn't. Not when they were winning.
One time when Amukelo backed after a clash, the abomination sent a dark projectile aimed at one of the three Pao. Pao cast a magic shield to protect her from the attack.
The abomination stopped mid-swing. Its head tilted. Its red eyes narrowed. It had found her. It thought it had found her.
The creature's entire body shifted. It lunged, committing itself fully to the attack. Its claws reared back. Pao's other clones stopped attacking, stepping back, as if ceding space.
Amukelo's heart dropped. "Pao!" he screamed, already sprinting. "Get away from it!"
He didn't even think. He wasn't going to make it. The distance was too far.
The creature raised its claw and brought it down with thunderous force. A blast of mist exploded from the impact.
But when the claws severed her, she collapsed into the water. It hadn't been her. It was her clone. Pao intentionally defended the clone to confuse the creature.
Amukelo didn't stop. He reached the beast mid-recovery and launched himself into a spin, slashing clean across its back with everything he had. The sword dug deeper than ever before—black blood poured from the wound in thick streams. The creature screeched in rage and pain, stumbling backward.
Then, one of the two left Paos raised her staff and launched a stream of mana bullets at the creature. But as they were flying towards it, the water bullets froze mid-air, making them more deadly ice spikes. The creature roared, spun wildly, but only caught mist—the clone had already moved.
Then another Pao appeared, reestablishing the trio again.
And that's when the abomination cracked.
It grabbed its face with both hands, claws digging in deep. Black blood poured down its melted jaw. It screamed—not with rage, but with confusion. With madness. It started scraping its own face violently, tearing chunks of its own flesh off, smearing the walls with black ichor. It staggered in circles, muttering something backwards again—disjointed, warped syllables that made no sense, like prayers in reverse.
Amukelo stopped mid-step, breathing hard, blade trembling in his hand. He had no idea what it was saying, but he could see it—something inside the beast was breaking. Pao's voice came to him, steady but low, "Be prepared, Amukelo. This is our chance… something's wrong with its mana. It's—boiling."
The moment she said it, the creature looked up and howled.
A massive wave of energy erupted outward, dark, chaotic, and uncontrolled. It shattered the walls behind it. Rubble exploded into the air. Magic pressure slammed into the chamber like a bomb.
Amukelo braced himself, heart pounding. He saw the wave coming like a black tide. In a second, a magic shield appeared in front of him—Pao's spell again.
His panic spiked. He turned, horrified. "Pao!? What are you—don't protect me over yourse—!"
But all three Paos stood firm… and when the wave hit them, they burst into water.
All of them. All three had been clones.
The water splashed and hissed on the stone, steam rising as the dark energy evaporated.
Amukelo blinked. Breathing heavily. Confused. Amazed.
He turned toward the creature. And it was furious.
Its clawed hands trembled. It turned in every direction, searching, desperate. Its mouth opened and closed, twitching, stuttering. Then it started ripping at its face again, clawing its already damaged features deeper. Even worse than the wounds Amukelo had given it.
It howled again. But this one was different. It was a cry of loss. Of utter, enraged, fractured defeat.