Capítulo 58: The Dark Knight
Enigma's nimble form danced across the rooftops of the city, a shadow among shadows. The crimson moon cast a macabre glow over the carnage below, illuminating the lifeless bodies that lay scattered like discarded ragdolls. The cobblestone streets were stained with the lifeblood of the innocent and the twisted, the once-thriving city of Helgarde now a silent tomb.
Above the distant din of the chaos, the sound of clanging steel and the cries of the damned grew clearer. The scent of brimstone and decay grew stronger as he approached the epicenter of the battle.
The dark knight was an entity of sheer power, his blade moving in a blur as he cut through the twisted forms that had once been men. Each swing of his sword sent a shower of crimson sparks flying through the air, the metal singing with the joy of destruction. His armor, once gleaming black, was now stained with the blood of his enemies, the crimson hue making him seem like a creature born of the very shadows he controlled.
„Who is that?" Enigma thought to himself as he watched the slaughter.
The knight's movements were fluid, almost ethereal, as if he was a part of the very shadows he danced through. His blade was a silver streak, leaving a trail of lifeless forms in his wake. The creature he had just defeated lay in a crumpled heap, its dark essence seeping into the cobblestone like a dark stain.
As the creature's life force dissipated, the knight's gaze lifted to the sky, and his eyes met Enigma's across the rooftops.
The knight's face was a canvas of stark contrasts; the crimson moon cast a ghastly light across the silver scars that twisted and snaked their way down his cheekbones, and his silver eyes burned with a fury that seemed to pierce the very fabric of night itself. For a moment, the two figures remained frozen, sizing each other up in the quietude of the battle's aftermath.
Then, with the grace of a descending hawk, Enigma leaped from the rooftop, landing softly beside the mysterious knight. His cloak fluttered around him like a silent shroud as he tilted his head slightly, his gaze unyielding. "Who are you?" he demanded, his voice a whispered thunder that cut through the stillness.
The knight's eyes narrowed, his grip on the sword tightening. "I am Sir Rowan," he replied, his tone cold and unyielding. "The one who brings balance to this night."
„Sir Rowan? I know that name... Didn't he fight the dragon that had the weapon made from a god? The Duskbringer?" He thought to himself.
The knight took a step forward, his boots echoing through the silent night. He moved with a purpose, as if drawn to the next battle by an unseen force. His cloak billowed behind him like a dark cloud, and his swords whispered as they slid through the air. Each step was calculated, a silent promise of death to any creature that stood in his path.
But before he could take another step, Enigma acted. From the shadows around him, tendrils of shadowy energy snaked out, coiling around Sir Rowan's limbs like serpents made of pure darkness. They wove through his armor with ease, wrapping tightly around his sword arm and neck, stopping him in his tracks.
"I can't let you interfere here!" Enigma said as he pulled the tendrils tighter.
With a sudden burst of strength, he tore free from the shackles of shadow, sending a shockwave through the alley that sent debris flying.
"So you're behind this, huh?" The knight's question hung in the air like the scent of impending doom.
Enigma stepped back slightly, allowing the shadows to swirl around him. "I am but a piece in this grand game," he replied, his voice cool and collected.
Sir Rowan sneered, the crimson moon highlighting the scars on his face. "And what game is that?"
Without another word, the two adversaries clashed. Steel met shadow as Enigma's dark tendrils tangled with Sir Rowan's gleaming sword.
The knight's blade was a whirlwind of crimson light, each strike leaving a trail of sizzling air as it cleaved through the shadowy serpents. His shield, an ancient relic of gleaming silver, reflected the moon's hue, casting an eerie glow upon the battleground. Each time it met with Enigma's shadowy form, it sent a booming echo through the narrow alleyway, a sonic testament to their brutal dance of combat.
Sir Rowan's shield was more than a mere defense; it was a weapon unto itself. With a flick of his wrist, he sent it spiraling through the air, a silent disc of destruction that sliced through the shadows with the precision of a surgeon's scalpel. Enigma dodged and weaved, his body a liquid blur as he avoided the lethal projectile. The shield returned to its master with a thunk, its surface now marred by the imprints of Enigma's desperate attempts to control the battle.
The dark knight knew that his foe was not to be underestimated. The crimson light cast by the moon bathed the scene in a bloody glow, turning the cobblestone alley into a canvas of shadow and light. With a flick of his wrist, Enigma sent a burst of shadow tendrils shooting toward the ground, causing it to crack open like the jaws of a giant beast. The cracks grew, racing towards Sir Rowan with the speed of a stampede.
Sir Rowan, unfazed, planted his sword and shield firmly, the blade sizzling with energy as it met the shadows. His shield glowed with a silver aura, reflecting the moon's light as he braced for the onslaught. The ground trembled as the cracks grew wider, but as the shadowy tendrils reached the knight, they simply dissipated, swallowed by the light that surrounded him.
With a roar, the knight charged forward, his sword a blur as he swung it with the force of a tornado. Enigma's eyes widened as he realized that the simple shadows he had been flinging at his opponent would not be enough. He focused his will, the cobblestone beneath their feet shifting and rearranging itself into a maze of spikes and traps.
As Sir Rowan approached, he leaped with inhuman agility, his sword slicing through the air where Enigma had been standing mere moments before. The dark knight had anticipated the move, and as the steel blade passed harmlessly through the shadowy illusion, Enigma sent a wave of stone spikes shooting up from the ground, aiming to impale the knight.
Sir Rowan's speed was astonishing. His shield spinning to face the ground as he landed atop the spikes, the pointed ends of his sword and the shield's rim leaving a trail of sparks as they skimmed over the jagged stone. The spikes crumbled under his weight, turning to dust as he landed, a testament to the power that surged through his limbs.
Enigma was amazed, „He has fought several dozen creatures on his own and is still able to perform such moves. Now I understand why he was able to defeat a dragon..."
Enigma's eyes narrowed, a smirk playing on his lips. He waved his hand, and the very shadows of the alley began to coalesce into a swarm of dark, spectral figures. They darted towards the knight, each one a silent specter of malice. But as Sir Rowan's blade swung through them, they shattered like glass, the illusions breaking into a thousand shimmering shards.
The knight took advantage of the brief respite, charging Enigma with a war cry that seemed to shake the very fabric of reality. Enigma, in turn, gestured to the buildings on either side of the alley. With a crack that echoed through the night, the walls of the buildings leaned in, their bricks and stones morphing into a crushing vice. Sir Rowan's speed was his salvation as he vaulted over the narrowing gap, his cape fluttering like a crimson comet.
As the walls closed, a barrage of shadowy tendrils shot from Enigma's hands, wrapping around Sir Rowan's ankles. The knight's shield flashed with a silver light, the shadows dissipating.
Sir Rowan's blade met the ground with a resounding thud, sending a shockwave that cracked the stones and sent a spray of dust into the air. "Your parlor tricks won't save you," he spat, his voice a low growl that seemed to resonate through the very air.
Enigma chuckled, a sound that was eerily devoid of mirth. "Let us see if your bravado can withstand the true power of the shadows," he said, his eyes gleaming with a cold, malevolent light. He gestured towards a nearby cart, the contents spilling out into the street. The wooden planks of the cart began to twist and bend, the nails popping and the wheels stretching. Within moments, it had transformed into a grotesque, spider-like creature with a snarling, toothless maw and eight spindly legs that scuttled forward with alarming speed.
Sir Rowan's expression remained stoic, but his eyes narrowed as he assessed the new threat. He waited patiently as the wooden spider approached, timing his strike with surgical precision. With a swift and powerful swing of his sword, he cleaved the creature in half, sending splinters of wood flying. The legs thrashed for a moment before collapsing into an inanimate heap.
Undeterred, Enigma gestured again, and the shadows pooled around his hands, coalescing into a whip of darkness that lashed out towards Sir Rowan. The knight raised his shield, the leather-bound surface reflecting the moon's light as the shadowy tendril made contact. But instead of bouncing off, the whip coiled around the shield, tightening its grip. With a flick of his wrist, Enigma tried to pull the shield from Sir Rowan's grasp.
Sir Rowan, his silver eyes gleaming, stepped into the attack, his sword flashing in a blur of crimson light as he sliced through the shadowy bindings. The whip dissipated into a cloud of smoke, revealing the cobblestone street beneath them to be alive with writhing, serpentine shadows. They slithered and twisted, reaching out with malicious intent.
The knight's footwork was flawless, each step a precise dance of death as he avoided the shadowy tendrils that sought to entangle him. He spun and parried, his sword leaving a trail of light that pierced the darkness.
Then, without warning, a beam of pure energy shot through the air, slicing through the knight's torso. The crimson moon's glow was eclipsed by the sudden brightness, revealing a figure standing at the far end of the alley. The light pierced Sir Rowan's armor as if it were paper, and he staggered, a cry of pain and shock tearing from his lips.
Status de energia semanal
-- Ranking de
Poder 
-- Pedra de
Poder