The human-like imp's eyes were hollow—devoid of fear or worry. One could say, without exaggeration, that they stood face-to-face with death itself.
In the blink of an eye, the creature vanished from sight. Before a single thought could form in Daylan's mind, Astara was already crashing into the ground.
Daylan's eyes widened as his body instinctively jerked toward the distant sound. When he saw Astara lying on the ground, a jolt of fear sent his heart lurching in his chest.
In that split second, Medora collapsed to the ground, unconscious. Before Daylan could even turn toward her, the creature was standing before him, staring dead into his eyes. The creature's breath was shallow as it watched Daylan swallow nervously, fear creeping over him.
The hardest thing for Daylan at that moment was thinking clearly. It was obvious the creature wanted to be alone with him. But why?
No matter the creature's intentions, the worst fate for Daylan was to face it alone—and it was all too clear that the creature was aware of that.
Despite his mental block, he knew that activating Dark Spiral had to come first. It would suppress his ability to feel fear, allowing him to think clearly.
The moment he activated it, the creature seized him by the neck, its head swiveling slowly from left to right as it tightened its grip.
With each passing second, its hold grew stronger, suffocating Daylan.
Though he felt nothing, Daylan was certain of one thing: he had to act fast—before a painless death became his reality.
Loop Sync… 2 minutes—he snapped.
In an instant, they were pulled back two minutes in time—Medora and Astara both on their feet, with the creature still standing before them.
Since he was the only one who knew what the human-like imp was truly capable of, Daylan knew he had to act first so the others would follow.
Without a moment's hesitation, he sprinted toward the imp. Astara and Medora were momentarily confused, but their bond with him ran deep—and just like that, they charged in after him.
Before they could get within reach, a heavy yet gentle wind swept past Daylan—and before he could react, Astara and Medora were once again lying unconscious on the ground.
Without a second thought, Daylan rewound time once more—only for Astara and Medora to be knocked unconscious again. He couldn't keep doing this; repeated injuries were bound to have consequences. Worse still, he couldn't match the imp's speed—unless they were in the dark.
Unfortunately, the sun lingered stubbornly in the sky, refusing to give way to the night he so desperately needed.
He stood before the creature, matching its fearless gaze with one of his own as it calmly approached.
Daylan knew he had only three options: outsmart it and somehow combine Spiral Edge with Dark Spiral to defeat it; stall for time until Astara and Medora recovered so they could all teleport away; or keep stalling until nightfall, when he'd finally stand a better chance of survival.
All three options came with risks, and Daylan knew the brutal truth—he wouldn't survive even ten minutes against the human-like imp.
He needed a better way, and he needed it now.
In a flash, the creature's hand clamped around his neck once more, pressing with relentless force. That's when it clicked—suffocation was the only method it seemed permitted to use, if it was even meant to kill him at all. Daylan smirked, a spark of hope igniting in his chest. He might just live through this.
Daylan grabbed the creature's hand with both of his, channeled every ounce of strength, and twisted—snapping the bone. The imp didn't flinch. It simply glanced at the injury, devoid of pain or even the faintest human reaction, then raised its left hand to finish what it had begun.
You aren't human anymore, huh?— he smirked.
He blocked the creature's hand from reaching him, then launched into a flurry of strikes—one after another, barely pausing to breathe.
But the creature effortlessly dodged them all, without so much as a drop of sweat. More unsettling, it didn't even try to strike back.
His blows came harder and faster, yet he still couldn't keep up with the creature's speed.
That's when he realized—relying solely on Dark Spiral and Spiral Edge would've been a fatal miscalculation. Luckily, that had never been the plan. Every strike was a smokescreen, a carefully timed distraction.
By the time the creature noticed, Daylan had already sent Astara and Medora into his dimension. He knew he needed a clear mental image to teleport himself to safety—but something held him back. The urge to see how far he could push himself against the creature in this state was too strong. So he stayed, ready to fight a little longer.
At the peak of his confidence, it all came crashing down. The thrill of the fight was abruptly silenced by a soft, yet devastating blow from the creature, hurling him into the depths of the forest.
This time, without hesitation and faster than the imp could close the distance, Daylan teleported to just outside the city gates.
The guards were stunned to see him appear out of nowhere—especially with blood trickling from his nose and mouth. But Daylan didn't spare them a second glance. Without showing any identification, he dashed through the entrance and hailed a carriage.
The guards didn't pursue him—they were well aware of his status. Seated in the carriage, Daylan kept dabbing at his nose with his sleeve, but the blood kept flowing, slow and relentless.
How? How can that simple jab be this powerful?
He felt no emotion, yet there was a fear deep within him—the fear of deactivating Dark Spiral. He dreaded the pain that would surely come once its grip faded.
He tended to the bleeding throughout his journey home. By the time he arrived, it had slowed, but it still trickled, persistent and unyielding.
He ripped off his bloodied shirt, exposing the deep bruise left by the imp's fist. His eyes went wide as the sight hit him, and without warning, his body convulsed, vomiting blood.
A thought was all it took, and Medora and Astara collapsed to the floor, still unconscious. Daylan quickly made his way to the washroom, desperately needing to tend to the unnatural effects his body was showing.
After what felt like an eternity, Daylan returned from the washroom, the bleeding finally stopped, and Dark Spiral was deactivated.
But, just as he had dreaded, the pain from the creature's strike hit him hard, unyielding, and raw.
When Daylan stepped into the living room, he found Medora and Astara awake, but they appeared weary, their energy sapped as though they had just woken from a long, draining ordeal.
Struggling to stay on their feet, both Medora and Astara hurried over to Daylan, concern etched on their faces. Daylan stretched out his hands with a faint smile, doing his best to reassure them that he was okay.
It was obvious he wasn't okay. He could barely bend at the waist, his body stiff and unyielding. But despite the signs, they chose to trust his word.
"What happened? Did you defeat it?" Medora asked, her voice etched with concern as she watched Daylan take his seat.
"What do you think? It stood no chance against me." He wore a confident smile as he flexed his muscles through his agony.
"You ran away, didn't you?" Astara asked bluntly.
"Yes, I did," Daylan replied, his expression changing. "It was powerful. You were unconscious, so you didn't get to see what it could do."
Daylan pointed to the bruise on his chest. ''This was probably the lightest strike it could land. It didn't seem interested in hurting me, just in suffocating me.''
Medora and Astara exchanged startled looks. If anyone else had said it, they might have doubted it, but coming from Daylan, their fear was unmistakable. Even though they tried to mask it, the fear shone through in their eyes.
"It's strange. Mother never sent these monsters after us, the Fools, despite how many of her members we've taken down. Yet, she sent one after me. That means I'm her number one priority now, and she likely doesn't see us as much of a threat."
Astara rushed her words, ''Regardless of her priorities, as long as you're involved, she remains our number one priority—and that's what matters.'' Seizing the moment, she continued, ''I never thought I'd say this, but after today, it's clear we're weak—myself included. If we ever stand a chance, we need to get stronger. Way stronger.''
Medora, gathering what strength she had left, moved toward Daylan and started healing him. ''Asta, were the ones who killed Daylan this powerful?''
"No. Not even close."
"The ones I encountered during my time as a guard weren't this powerful either."
"It was obvious it was of a higher rank—its golden hood gave that away."
"Yeah. We can't risk exposing Daylan to any more danger, so I'd suggest we find another way to get stronger. By the way, I found one of their hideouts last time. We could capture the weaker ones and torture them for intel about the organization."
Daylan had never seen Medora so calm, composed, and determined. It was as though the incident was breaking her inside, but somehow, this was the version of her he needed.