Surviving These Unfair Scenarios [LITRPG - DIMENSION HOPPING]

The explosion of devilish energy erupted from Adam's body without warning, flooding the air with an overwhelming surge of corrupted pressure. It didn't just distort the light or cause the ground to crack. It changed the atmosphere itself. The plaza that had been filled with tension before now felt unbearable to those still standing within it.

Konrad gritted his teeth and struggled to remain upright, blood trickling from a reopened cut on his brow. His boots dug into the fractured stone beneath him, desperate for any form of leverage as the pressure pressed against him like a collapsing sky. His arms trembled, but he did not let go of his staff. His eyes never left Adam.

Katya, crouched on the rooftop where she had landed earlier, wrapped her arms tighter around her midsection. The lingering injuries from her earlier clashes now burned with renewed pain, and her joints protested as she shifted her weight forward. Her breath came short and shallow, and her coat fluttered wildly from the growing wind created by the arcane force being released. Even so, her eyes narrowed as she watched the battle unfold, refusing to look away. Her pride would not allow her to flinch now.

On the other hand, Angela had no such luxury. She was already beyond its mental limit. Hovering above the battlefield on her ink-formed platforms, she felt her legs buckle and her chest convulse under the strain of keeping herself aloft in the chaos. The devilish pressure consumed her control over her skills, fragmenting the patterns in her mind. Her knees gave out, and she dropped like a stone, descending in a blur of motion. She crashed into the ground and rolled twice before coming to a halt. Her hand clutched the brush at her side. Sweat coated her forehead. Her fingers shook as she reached out and raised the brush again.

"I don't have a choice."

She whispered, struggling to move her arm into position.

"If I don't use it now, I'll be useless."

She planted the brush into the air before her and moved with practiced determination. Her strokes were slower, trembling, but deliberate. The arc she painted shimmered and then burned, forming a circular symbol that hung in the air for a second before transferring to the ground below. The lines connected and solidified, and the entire circle began to pulse faintly as it absorbed energy from her surroundings. Unlike her initial invocation earlier in the fight, this one was taking much longer. The sheer pressure in the environment was interfering with her ability to channel her power effectively.

Her teeth clenched. She knew this would drain almost everything she had left, but she had no intention of backing down.

Elsewhere on the field, Drake felt the shift in power immediately. The moment the devilish energy burst from Adam's body, his senses rang in alarm. His grip on his massive sword tightened, and his eyes darted toward the floating figure. The corrupted aura rising from the boy was unlike anything he had sensed before. Whoever had possessed Adam had now been reinforced by a surge of energy that could have bent the balance of the battlefield.

But Drake didn't hesitate. His mind and body remained aligned with the colossal dragon hovering over him.

"Now!"

Drake said, his voice steady and unwavering. The Eclipse-Crowned Vermillion Dragon responded without a word. The massive creature twisted in the air, its long body rippling like a living ribbon of carmine and gold. Its golden mane flared as its jaws opened wide, and a torrent of flame poured from its mouth. It wasn't just ordinary fire. It was divine flame, infused with celestial will and imbued with scorching truth. The torrent raced toward Drake, and instead of moving away from it, he stepped forward and absorbed it into his blade.

The colossal sword he wielded glowed like a brand, the fire curling around its edge and locking into its surface like molten veins. The heat didn't burn him. It strengthened him. With a sudden surge of speed, Drake lunged forward. Abbess and the Cursed Emperor of Envy had just regrouped after the last wave of attacks and were bracing themselves, but it was too late.

Drake's wings of divine energy expanded behind him, flaring outward, and propelled him forward like a divine missile. He closed the distance in an instant, his blade trailing fire, and brought it down in a brutal arc. The Cursed Emperor moved to counter with its four golden scythes, but the strike arrived faster than expected. The blow didn't strike one enemy. It split the air between them, carving space itself and severing both targets at once. Abbess's scream was cut off as her silhouette flickered and distorted, her body dissolving into mist-like fragments. The Cursed Emperor of Envy reared back, its chest flame sputtering, then followed suit as its body destabilized and crumbled away.

Both disappeared without a trace, like broken illusions burned away.

Drake did not wait. His sword still burned, the golden flame refusing to fade. He twisted his body and launched himself toward Adam with no pause. The ground beneath him cracked under the weight of the force he used to propel himself. His wings folded inward, then shot outward again, bursting him forward faster than any normal creature could follow. The Ancient Ethernomicon floated nearby, already reacting, its featureless form shifting as it raised its arms. However, Drake was no longer interested in playing.

He swung once… The cursed entity didn't even finish forming its spell before it was cleaved apart. Its spectral core flashed with a pulse of distorted energy, then shattered as the sword passed through it. The Ancient Ethernomicon vanished just like the others, its disembodied consciousness torn asunder.

And yet, Adam remained exactly where he was—floating and watching.

Drake noticed it at once. There had been no struggle. No resistance. The summoned entities hadn't failed in their defense; it was more like they had been abandoned by their own controller. The realization struck hard.

"You let them go."

Drake said, his voice rising slightly, his tone not one of triumph, but disbelief.

"You didn't even try."

Adam grinned wider. His mouth stretched beyond what should have been humanly possible. The pressure in the air had not diminished, even with the vanishing of the three summoned beings. In fact, it had grown heavier. His hands moved slowly, deliberately, as he raised his demonic spear. He met Drake's charge without hesitation.

The two weapons collided. Divine sword against cursed spear. The impact rocked the field, sending shockwaves outward again, flattening debris and causing cracks to stretch across the plaza. Light and shadow mixed in violent arcs of energy. Neither combatant gave ground.

Drake swung again and again. Each swing of his colossal sword was powered by pure divine force, guided by his martial mastery, and sharpened by rage. His wings gave him infinite angles of movement. He soared, twisted, and rebounded between strikes.

However, Adam blocked each blow. The spear danced with uncanny precision. No matter how fast or hard Drake attacked, the glasses boy's smile never faded. His cursed energy wrapped around the weapon like a serpent, deflecting strikes that should have severed steel.

The speed of their movements exceeded comprehension. Their forms were blurs of clashing power. For any normal observer, the fight had transcended visibility. Each impact generated pressure waves, and the air itself screamed in protest.

Drake felt a gnawing frustration rise. His blade should have been overwhelming. The divine nature of his power should have burned away any corrupted spirit, yet Adam remained untouched. The flames meant to purify did not even cause the slightest recoil. Adam's smile only grew wider as the fight continued.

"This doesn't make sense."

Drake muttered under his breath, even as he launched another sweeping cut.

"You shouldn't be able to stand against this. The source of our power is on a hierarchical basis."

But deep inside, he already understood. It wasn't just the Ghost Empress anymore. That devilish energy—Malzaphir's power—wasn't just compatible with her. It was empowering her in ways that broke the usual laws of spiritual dominance. Divine force and cursed essence should not have been equal, yet somehow, they were.

The battlefield trembled under the weight of their confrontation. Divine energy and devilish corruption danced across the sky in violent arcs. The sound of clashing steel was constant, a thunder that never ceased.

Drake pressed forward without rest. His blade moved in relentless arcs, and his wings surged with extreme force, allowing him to maneuver from angle to angle as he sought any crack in Adam's defense. But no matter how sharp or precise his attacks became, the spear of the possessed body met him with perfect timing.

Then Adam laughed. It wasn't loud, but it carried malice. Even over the chaos of their exchange, the sound reached everyone's ears. It was a quiet chuckle that lingered in the air.

"You're all so stupid. After diving into his memories, I expected at least one of you to have noticed."

The boy said, keeping his eyes on Drake.

The blond said nothing. His only answer was another series of strikes, each one strong enough to split steel with a mere grace, aimed to carve through the floating opponent. Adam deflected them all and kept speaking, amused.

"Not one of you ever wondered why the divine energy in this world never affected him. Not even once. You knew he was an undead, and yet the world's holy presence never did a thing to him."

Another heavy blow came from Drake. Adam parried, but the smile remained.

"This world's divine power was already corrupted. The goddess who rules over it was tainted by madness long ago. That's why. That's why her divine power doesn't work on things that cannot feel madness. Like Adam. Like me."

He explained, his tone still casual. Drake's blade slashed horizontally, fast and sharp. Adam leaned back just enough to avoid it and kept talking.

"So what do you expect your divine energy to do?"

He said, tilting his head.

"Even your dragon's flame—it's pure, but my power comes from something higher. Do you understand what Malzaphir is?"

Drake still didn't answer. He adjusted his wings and spun forward for a vertical slash, but again, Adam caught it with his spear.

"He's not a demon."

The boy said, his voice louder now.

"He's a devil. There's a difference. You're fighting against the energy of something more akin to an evil god. You know, evil, but a god nonetheless… You can't use divinity to extinguish another divinity."

The air around Adam began to shift. At first, it was subtle, but within moments it became clear that something massive was happening. His body began to spiral with energies of every kind. Devilish energy spilled out from his limbs, clashing with cursed energy that radiated from his chest. Corrupted ki pulsed like veins along his arms, and a sickly corrupted divine energy, completely warped from its original form, coated his back like a mantle.

All these forces began to swirl together. They did not harmonize; they existed in conflict, in defiance of all natural order, yet they refused to tear each other apart. The sheer density of it repelled the surrounding air. It was an abomination of power, something so unnatural that even those far outside the battlefield would have instinctively turned their eyes away from it.

Still, Drake stood firm. His fancy shoes struck the ground. He launched forward, while his sword dragged flames behind it as he resumed his attack without pause. The corrupted storm meant nothing to him. Whatever Adam had become, he would face it head-on.

But the possessed body of his former ally had other plans; he narrowed his eyes slightly, still smiling.

"I never liked melee combat. Always thought it was crude. But now, I'm starting to understand the appeal."

He didn't wait for Drake to respond. His body trembled, and from within him came a sudden, explosive surge of spectral energy. A tide of ghosts poured outward from his chest, dozens, then hundreds, shrieking figures twisting around each other in a stream of pale green and gray. They moved with haste, aiming directly at Drake, surrounding him in a wave of translucent bodies.

The blond tried to move forward through them. His sword cleaved several apart in one swing with ease. But the moment his blade touched the first, it triggered an explosion. A burst of cursed energy radiated outward. He moved again, cutting another, and again the result was the same. Each ghost he struck exploded like a mine. They didn't harm him at all; his body was far too powerful to be affected by something of that level, but the chain reaction was constant, and more importantly, his vision was consumed by flickering white blasts.

For several seconds, he was lost in the wave. He swung his blade in wide arcs, cutting through them, burning their energy away, but the explosions came faster than his mind could track. They wrapped around him, clouding his movement, hiding his enemy from view.

But Adam didn't stop with that. As Drake dealt with the ghost swarm, the Northern Emperor moved again. High above, the eastern dragon gathered its strength. Its long body coiled in the air, glowing from within. Its golden mane lifted with power, and its mouth opened once more. A golden fire began to build, condensed into a sharp spiral, and then the flame was released as a solid beam aimed directly at Adam.

The torrent was vast, lighting the sky.

However, Adam looked up calmly. And then, without breaking his grin, he opened his mouth and unleashed a roar. The sound that escaped him was the skill [Undead Empress's Torment].

The wave of sound exploded from his body, thick and sharp. It wasn't just noise—it was pressure given form, a wall of vibrating sorrow and agony that pushed against reality itself. It struck the golden fire head-on. The two forces clashed in the air.

Divine flame and corrupted sound collided, both refusing to yield. The sky shattered into spirals of red and gold. The explosion that followed forced the dragon's eyes shut for a moment, and that was all Adam needed.

He launched himself upward with an explosion of force beneath his feet, using the shockwave as propulsion. In an instant, he was by the dragon's head, his cursed spear raised high, the corrupted energy swirling violently along its length.

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Letting out a guttural cry, he brought it down with all the might his current vessel could muster, aiming directly between the thick horns of the celestial beast. The resulting clash sent out a deafening shock across the entire plaza and the distant structures beyond. A blinding pulse of light covered the sky for a breathless second.

The Eclipse-Crowned Vermillion Dragon held its ground. Its divine form, vast and immovable, remained in the air without faltering. It turned its head with raw force, and the momentum alone was enough to knock Adam away. He tumbled downward like a dark comet, but even as he fell, his grin did not fade.

Around the dragon, dozens of system windows appeared in rapid succession, bright rectangles of warning flashing in place like digital flares. Status effects had been triggered by the contact: confusion, decay, curse, blight, despair, etc. The dragon's divine nature held off most, its resistances shielding its body, but not every affliction had been negated. A handful began to take root, subtly poisoning the balance of its internal systems.

Meanwhile, down below, the chaos of the battlefield continued to burn. The endless storm of ghosts surrounding Drake was finally severed in one more heavy motion. His blade rose in a wide arc, slicing cleanly through the last wave of spectral remains and scattering the cursed remnants into the wind. The air cleared around him. His golden eyes caught sight of Adam's falling form immediately, and he didn't hesitate. With a surge of power from his wings, he propelled himself upward once again, closing the gap in an instant.

The impact between their weapons was thunderous. Drake's sword met Adam's spear mid-air once more, the shockwave beneath them shattering stone and soil. They clashed repeatedly without losing momentum, their movements synchronized in a violent dance. Each collision echoed with a force that made the very wind tremble, and neither seemed willing to yield. Every strike was lethal, every defense precise, and the tide between them refused to shift.

Then Adam spoke, his voice calm and unfazed, as if the battle raging between them was merely a distraction.

"Wait, I want to test something."

He said with ease, holding his position. Drake didn't answer and didn't slow. His blade continued its path, driven by murderous intent. He read no change in Adam's expression, no hesitation in his posture. But then, as if orchestrated, the boy left an opening... A deliberate gap appeared near his neck, undefended and obvious. Drake recognized the opportunity instantly and lunged. His sword arced upward, drawn toward the exposed space with pinpoint accuracy.

Yet just before the blow landed, Adam's left hand moved.

He raised it smoothly and intercepted the sword mid-swing. His bare palm pressed directly against the shimmering edge of the rank-S weapon. The motion wasn't explosive or dramatic, but the blade stopped moving entirely. There was no deflection and no resistance. The momentum simply died at the point of contact.

The angle shifted only slightly—less than a centimeter—but it was enough. The blade slid past Adam's throat without leaving so much as a mark.

Drake's eyes widened. He had poured everything into every strike, and Adam had halted it barehanded. Not even a scratch had appeared. The hand that stopped him didn't even bleed.

Adam smiled, broader than before.

"I thought so, I really don't have anything to fear."

He said, his voice filled with satisfaction and his face with a horrible smirk. He twisted his wrist, and the movement disrupted Drake's balance for just an instant. It was all the time he needed.

With precision and brutal speed, Adam thrust his spear forward. The cursed weapon shot directly at his target's face. The golden-haired boy managed to shift his head just in time to avoid a fatal wound, but even then, the spear's edge carved a deep gash across his cheek, drawing a long line of blood that spilled down to his jaw.

The gash along Drake's cheek still pulsed with a dull sting, but it was nothing compared to the flood of corrupted status effects overtaking his body. As his boots touched the cracked earth, a flurry of system windows burst to life around him, each one flashing with a different alert. [Corruption: High], [Weakened Resistance], [Internal Decay], [Soul Bleed], [Cursed Exposure], [Malignant Burn], [Flesh Rot], and more, lined the screen. The accumulation was staggering, and his body trembled for a moment, his breath hitched once, but he forced it into rhythm. He closed his eyes and focused.

He called inward to his foundation, to the specialization that had kept him alive through impossible odds before. [Heavenly Daoist]. Divine and ki energy flowed through his meridians, racing with precision into the damaged zones. Purification began, slow but steady, washing away layer after layer of affliction.

But not all of them vanished. Some clung to him like tar, too deeply embedded or too strong to fully dispel, even for a Lv10 specialization. He accepted it without panic. Not even perfection was perfect. He only needed enough balance to move forward.

From above, Adam's laughter crashed like thunder across the scorched field. The sound was twisted, higher than usual, laced with cruelty. His smile stretched wide, and his eyes gleamed with sadistic delight.

"How pathetic, even within your domain, even wielding your own specialty, you can't reach me. And to think my little Lich thought of you as the strongest."

He said, spinning his spear idly in one hand. He then floated higher, spreading his arms.

"I can't wait to end this… This world is next, I would consume it in death and darkness, make it my paradise, a true kingdom so I can be at peace."

He tilted his head, voice shifting into a more contemplative tone.

Despite the overwhelming pressure building around him, Drake didn't back away. He breathed evenly, and then he moved. His wings extended, and his voice rose to the dragon that still hovered above, golden fire wreathing its body… No words were spoken.

The Vermillion Dragon understood. Its colossal body twisted mid-air, fire flaring brighter than before while it dove. Flames engulfed its scales, divine essence mixing with fury. Drake raised his sword and welcomed the descent. As the dragon came down, it did not stop at the surface. Its entire body merged with the blade, flames fusing with steel. The blond vanished into the torrent, consumed by its brilliance.

Adam watched the whole thing with growing interest. He smiled wider.

"Yes, come to me."

He whispered, lowering his stance. The dragon of fire slammed into him like the wrath of a god. The plaza cracked open beneath their feet. Fire erupted outward, swallowing buildings, turning the sky into a molten swirl. The impact wasn't just heat or weight. It was pressure, soul force, divine wrath, and immortal judgment blended into one. At the tip of it all was Drake's sword, now the conductor of an apocalyptic descent. The skill had a name, and it echoed through the system. [Purgatory Dragon Dive].

Yet, Adam caught it with his spear… The cursed weapon bent under the force but did not break. Energy bled in all directions, the golden fire clashed with devilish corruption. The entire square glowed white for a second before bursting outward in a shockwave that shattered what little remained of the ruined plaza. At the center of the blast, Adam laughed as he stood his ground, unmoving.

Drake emerged from within the inferno surrounding them, fire clinging to his back and divine energy wrapped tightly around his limbs. His blade remained high, still conducting the golden flame that had fused with the dragon. His expression had not changed, his focus sharpened into something absolute. With both feet striking the ground and his stance grounded in martial perfection, he swung downward. The arc of his sword cut through the smog and heat, aimed directly at Adam's chest, a strike that carried the momentum of the dragon's fury and the weight of the heavens themselves.

Yet Adam did not raise his spear to meet it. He did not even shift his footing. He stood still, watching the blade descend, his grin unfazed, his posture relaxed… He welcomed the blow.

The sacred blade sliced through the corrupted air and passed cleanly through the space Adam's chest occupied, but there was no burst of blood. No sound of impact or resistance. The edge touched his skin and simply slid across the body, incapable of damaging it. His robes fluttered slightly under the force of the blow, but his body did not react. Not even a flicker of pain, not a change in breath. Adam remained perfectly still as the steel finished its descent. When the swing ended, he finally moved, and his smile widened with satisfaction.

He did not hesitate. With both hands gripping the cursed spear, he stepped forward, lowering his weight and channeling every ounce of demonic force into a single thrust aimed directly for Drake's head. The strike was merciless, perfectly timed, designed to end the fight in one motion. The air warped around the tip as it lunged forward, cutting across the burning haze. But before it could reach its target, Drake's body shifted.

There was no grand movement, only a subtle change in his expression and a quiet lift of his left hand… He raised two fingers and shaped them into a simple V, his eyes never leaving Adam's.

That was all it took.

Something inside Adam's mind stuttered. For the first time in the battle, his body did not respond to his will. The thrust halted in the air. His arms locked. His muscles refused to complete the motion. Confusion surged for a brief instant, but his instincts recognized the phenomenon before his thoughts could process it. This was not a mistake. It was deliberate. Something powerful had interfered with the flow of time and decision within him, enough to stop him.

The system responded a moment later with a whisper of authority that echoed in both minds.

Drake did not waste the second granted by his trait. He moved with haste, his arms driving the sword forward and piercing Adam's abdomen in one brutal thrust. At first, the white haired boy did not react beyond mild confusion, not understanding why Drake had chosen to strike there.

His body was impervious, protected by cursed energy, divine corruption, and devilish infusion. Nothing had touched him so far. There had been no reason to think this attack would be different… Yet it was. The blade, wrapped in red flames, red-hot and shaking from the force of its wielder, pushed through his flesh in a single thrust after a little bit of resistance. Adam's laughter was cut short as the realization hit him. His voice broke as he screamed a single word.

"What?!"

Drake didn't answer; his eyes remained fixed on the point of impact. The sword had not burned with divine energy this time. It was fire, dragonfire to be exact, drawn from the Vermillion Dragon's own soul. The very element Adam had always been weak against. The Empress had known that, of course. She had accessed Adam's memories. She had found the skill that allowed him to suppress that weakness. She had known all of it… But what she hadn't done was expect this kind of risk, so she was unable to activate [Corrupted Existence] in time.

Drake had gambled on her arrogance. He had seen it in her movements, in her confidence, in the way she blocked every blow without hesitation. Her lack of real experience in physical combat had betrayed her. She had believed herself untouchable, just like he wanted to.

With the sword embedded deep into Adam's torso, Drake shifted his stance and twisted the hilt like a lever. The blade turned upward inside the boy's body, searing through organs and spirit alike. Then, with a roar, Drake pulled it up with all his might. The fire exploded again as the edge carved its way through the ribcage, slicing from abdomen to shoulder. It nearly split Adam in half. The scream that came from him wasn't pain. It was raw reflex, a vocal rejection of what had just happened, but for the first time, the damage was real.

However, the moment didn't last. The paralysis had ended, and Adam responded before the flame had fully cleared. His movement was so violent that the sheer force of his speed tore apart the surrounding flames. In a blink, he closed the gap, and when the fire parted, the battlefield revealed its terrible balance.

Both combatants were standing. Both were wounded, but something was wrong. Katya and Konrad, still conscious but unable to move, could see it. Adam was still on his feet, his torso torn open and regenerating slowly. He held his spear forward with one arm, his breathing erratic. Drake stood directly in front of him, sword still raised, both arms trembling from exhaustion. His blade still blazed with the Vermillion Dragon's spirit, but his face had gone pale.

It was then they saw it. The right arm of Adam had pierced through Drake's stomach. The entire forearm and the cursed spear had gone clean through. Blood spilled from Drake's lips as he remained motionless. His eyes glowed red, burning with fury, but his muscles refused to move.

Adam's laughter returned. It was thinner than before, but still present.

"Impressive, you actually did it. That cut almost made me feel something. But it means nothing. While I possess this body, it cannot die. I cannot die. But you…"

He gestured toward Drake's abdomen, blood now dripping onto the broken ground.

"You are just a mortal. That wound is fatal. You've already lost."

Drake didn't answer; instead, his body shifted again.

His arms moved with sudden strength. The sword, still embedded in Adam's body, pulled back a few inches, then lunged forward and struck upward again. This time, the edge didn't aim for the torso. It moved for the neck. The steel sank into the side of Adam's throat, not deep enough to sever, but enough to cause him to jolt in surprise.

"You moved…"

Drake said, his voice broken and ragged.

"When I cut you before, you moved your head. You didn't want damage to that part. It wasn't you keeping his body alive. It was the parasite in his brain. If I remove the head, it ends."

Adam lost his smile and tried to pull his arm free, but he couldn't. Drake had twisted his body just enough, using every remaining muscle, every ounce of power he had left. The cursed spear and part of the arm wielding it, which had once pierced him so easily, now refused to come out.

The blond growled and pushed again. The sword slid deeper into Adam's neck. The Empress screamed through him. She released another wave of ghosts, trying to overwhelm him again, but Drake did not flinch. His energy exploded outward, a wave of Imperial Ki and divine energy force so dense that the summoned spirits were disintegrated the moment they emerged.

The wind roared around them. Flames flickered violently. And both men screamed, voices hoarse and pushed to their limit. Drake continued to drive the blade into Adam's neck. The cursed spear was still lodged inside his abdomen. The pain was unimaginable, but he didn't stop.

The sword moved deeper again.

Drake's arms shook. His hands were slick with blood. His back was arched from the effort. But he pushed again, forcing another inch through.

"Don't worry, my friend."

He said, barely louder than a whisper.

"I'd rather be the one to kill you with my own hands than let someone else steal what's left of you."

The blade moved a little more. Adam's laughter was gone. His eyes were wide, and his teeth clenched. The tension in the air reached its peak. The next second would decide everything.

Drake's grip on the sword tightened even more as the force of the struggle continued. Adam, despite the immense strength coursing through his stolen body, could not overpower the hold the blond had established.

In a moment of desperation, he attempted to strike Drake with his free arm, driving it forward in a brutal arc aimed at the side of the blond's head. But the blond intercepted the blow with a single motion, catching Adam's fist mid-air with his own hand and halting it entirely. The veins in his arm were bulging, his muscles tensed to their limits, but his expression did not waver. The sheer force he displayed, even in his current condition, was nothing short of supernatural, and it was all thanks to the title [He who succeeds in the impossible]. No matter how dire the situation, it gave him the ability to defy fate itself to stay conscious, and this was one of those moments.

The edge of his sword continued to cut deeper, the gleaming blade pushing through Adam's neck, already past the halfway point. Flesh resisted, and cursed energy clashed against divine steel, but Drake did not falter. His arms shook, his body strained, but he refused to stop.

Adam's eyes twitched, the moment of control slipping further from his grasp. He had even tried to become mist, but the skill was canceled the exact moment it was used; there was no escape. But then, a slow grin spread across his face once more, curling at the edges with venomous satisfaction. His eyes narrowed, and with a rasping voice full of bitter amusement, he spoke.

"I told you. That darkness inside you is absolutely delicious. Look at you, willing to kill your own friend, just out of jealousy. I love it."

His tone was mocking, but it was clear there was more behind the words. Then his smile changed. It was no longer the manic grin of domination, but something else—more calculated, more vile.

"However, there's someone else in here who doesn't quite agree with your plan."

As he said those words, Adam's tongue extended from his mouth, revealing a strange glowing sigil etched onto it. The symbol pulsed with a silver light, radiant and malicious. In the next breath, the possessed boy shouted a single word that carried with it a weight far beyond its simplicity.

"Stop!"

The skill [Silver Tongue] activated instantly. Drake recognized it the moment the word left Adam's mouth, but it was too late. His body seized up, every fiber of his being frozen in place; he could not move. The control was absolute, if only for a fleeting moment. But that moment was all Adam needed. With Drake's body immobilized, he pulled his arm and his embedded spear free from the gaping wound in the blond's abdomen. The metal slid out with a wet sound, dark blood trailing behind it. He then shifted his weight, stepping away from the sword at his throat and retreating to a safer distance, his figure once again poised with confidence.

The effect of the skill dissipated quickly, releasing Drake from its grip. But as soon as the control vanished, his body buckled. He coughed violently, spitting blood as he collapsed to one knee. A large, ragged hole had been torn through the center of his stomach, gaping and drenched in crimson. Despite the immense pain and trauma his body had just endured, he refused to fall completely. His hands still clutched the hilt of his sword, using it as support to keep himself upright. His breathing was uneven, each inhale accompanied by a tremor of pain. Yet his eyes never left Adam.

They were still filled with fire. They were still burning with fury.