THE GENERAL'S DISGRACED HEIR

Where his face would have been, there was only a haunting void, with two narrow slits that glowed with a piercing violet light, cutting through the shadows like ethereal flames. His eyes seemed to see through everything, gazing with an intensity that was both hypnotic and deadly. The glowing slits served as windows to something ancient and powerful, exuding an aura of cold malice that warned against defiance.

[Nightveil Embrace] clung to him as though it were alive, the shifting armour accentuating his every movement with an elegant lethality. Threads of dark energy, flecked with vibrant crimson, flickered around him, like embers caught in a perpetual storm. His entire form radiated an unsettling beauty, a harmony between shadow and void, refined into a weapon of quiet destruction.

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David\'s aura was silent but overwhelming, a presence that consumed light and hope alike. The darkness around him deepened, bending to his will, making him the centre of an ominous vortex that felt like the very essence of night had taken form. As he moved, it was as if he became one with the void, a predator lurking in silence, ready to unleash devastation at his command.

Shuan\'s slender, demon-like hands curled around two long, obsidian swords, each one a perfect reflection of the moonlight, gleaming with a deadly allure. His crimson eyes narrowed, and a wicked grin stretched across his shadowed face as he examined David standing before him.

The transformation had left Shuan inhuman, with twisted horns crowning his head and sinewy muscles rippling beneath his midnight armor. Every part of him exuded malice, and yet, before him stood a single figure, cloaked in darkness but unshaken by the monstrosity Shuan had become.

With a sneer, Shuan called out, his voice a guttural growl, "Who are you? Why do you follow me?"

David\'s reply was sharp, his voice cutting through the tense air with the precision of a blade.

"A dead corpse has no need to know anything. Only that I am the light that hunts the darkness."

Shuan\'s sneer faltered, caught off guard by the audacity of David\'s response. He quickly masked his surprise with a roar of anger, lunging forward as he swung one of his obsidian swords in a downward arc, intent on cleaving David in two. But just as the blade was about to make contact, Shuan felt an unexpected resistance.

In David\'s hand, darkness coalesced and sharpened, forming a slender, ethereal blade—[Wraithblade]. The sword glimmered faintly with an otherworldly energy, the edges almost translucent, as if it were forged from shadows themselves. Their blades clashed, the force of Shuan\'s swing halted mid-motion by the strength of David\'s parry. Shuan\'s eyes widened, astonishment flickering across his monstrous face.

Impossible. Even in his demonized form, boosted by corrupt mana that coursed through him, this human had met his strength with ease. Shuan\'s shock quickly turned to rage, and he snarled, channeling his original mana into his other sword. His grip tightened, the dark energy surging through his arm as he prepared to cut David in half with his next strike.

In the distance, Angelica recognized the movement instantly. Her heart clenched. This was Shuan\'s second most lethal technique, a skill only King-ranked swordsmen possessed.

Formless aura.

The raw, murderous intent behind the strike left no doubt in her mind—David was in grave danger. She instinctively stepped forward, ready to intervene, but paused as she saw David\'s eyes.

David\'s gaze locked onto Shuan\'s, and his violet slits, swirling with ethereal light, seemed to draw everything into their depths. His stance was calm, assured, even graceful, as he prepared to meet Shuan\'s blow head-on.

The demon apostle swung his sword, pouring all his strength and bloodlust into the strike. But David moved like a whisper in the night, deflecting the initial swing with a flick of his wrist and meeting the next attack with an elegance that was almost artful.

The clash of their swords sent a shockwave rippling through the clearing, scattering fallen leaves and dust in a wild storm around them. Shuan staggered back, his monstrous voice roaring, "Impossible!" His mind reeled.

Even in his transformed state, enhanced with the demonic power of an Apostle, his strength should have easily overwhelmed any human opponent. Yet here was David, matching him blow for blow, without even a trace of mana in his strikes.

Angelica could scarcely believe it either. She knew David\'s capabilities well, knew he had only recently broken through to Master-ranked swordsman. The chasm between a Master and a King-ranked swordsman was vast, almost insurmountable. For David to be holding his ground, not even relying on mana, was beyond anything she had expected.

David\'s voice cut through the air, cold and unimpressed.

"Is this all? Is this the true strength of a demon\'s apostle?"

Shuan\'s rage flared, his grip tightening on his swords as his corrupt mana flared. "You…you insignificant insect!" His form trembled, corrupt mana cracking from within, seeping through his armour as his body began to morph once again. He grew taller, bulkier, his form expanding as the demonic corruption twisted him further. His face contorted into a monstrous visage, his eyes blazing with crimson fury, and his skin hardened into something akin to obsidian scales, glistening with malevolent energy.

A primal roar ripped through the night as Shuan swung his sword in a deadly arc, each motion fueled by a frenzy of desperation. His attacks tore through the air like black lightning, each swing promising death.

Yet, David countered every strike with calm precision, his movements fluid, almost effortless, as if he were dancing to a silent rhythm. There was no trace of mana, no arcane light—only raw, unyielding skill.

Shuan\'s frustration mounted with every failed attempt. His grip on his swords tightened as he realized that even with his enhanced strength, even with the corrupt mana pulsing through his veins, he was failing to break through David\'s defences.

If he didn\'t give this fight his all, he might actually lose. With a snarl, Shuan unleashed a powerful aura of pure dark mana, the energy exploding from his body in waves, distorting the air around him as he glared at David with burning hatred.

"I\'ll have your head!" he snarled, his voice echoing like a curse across the clearing.

But David was unfazed. As Shuan\'s sword came down in a frenzied swing, David deflected the blade with a swift flick of his wrist, sidestepping and turning the momentum against him. Shuan stumbled, unbalanced, but David didn\'t stop there. In a flurry of movements, he closed the distance, driving the hilt of his sword into Shuan\'s ribs with bone-shattering force. The impact echoed through the night, and Shuan gasped, his monstrous form reeling.

David followed with a punch, his fist crashing into Shuan\'s jaw like a hammer, sending him staggering back. Each hit landed with the weight of an avalanche, and Shuan could barely cling to consciousness. His vision blurred, and pain wracked his body, yet his pride as an apostle of darkness refused to let him fall. He had to escape, to regroup, or he would be defeated.

Gritting his fangs, Shuan spread his dark wings, flapping them with enough force to lift himself off the ground, intending to retreat. But just as he took flight, David raised his hand with an elegant, deadly grace, a glint of cold determination in his eyes.

Shuan\'s escape was cut short as he felt resistance—threads of darkness, woven so finely they were nearly invisible, stretched across the clearing, forming an intricate web that held him in place. The threads contracted rapidly, ensnaring him like a beast caught in a hunter\'s trap. Shuan struggled, his claws tearing at the bindings, but they only tightened in response, binding him tighter with each frantic movement.

David\'s voice rang out, calm and merciless.

"Know true despair."

As his words hung in the air, the dark threads surrounding Shuan ignited, burning with a strange white aura that seemed to defy logic, consuming the darkness in searing purity. Shuan\'s monstrous form convulsed as the threads tightened and the white flames began to burn into him, pain like he had never known tearing through his body.

Watching from the shadows, Angelica\'s eyes widened in shock. She knew this technique—it was

[Formless Aura]

, a power that transcended the bounds of an average king-ranked swordsman, bending to David\'s will with terrifying ease. She could scarcely believe it. Only a select few could wield an aura that was both unseen and unstoppable.

Shuan\'s growls turned into screams as the white flames devoured him, each tendril of light digging into his flesh, unraveling him from the inside out. His form began to break down, melting into a pool of dark, corrupted blood as the light consumed his existence. Terror gripped his fading consciousness, and for the first time in his wretched life, Shuan felt the cold grip of fear.

With one final, agonized scream, Shuan\'s body dissolved completely, leaving only a dark stain upon the ground. The air stilled, and David lowered his hand, his gaze steely and calm as he regarded the remnants of his foe.

Angelica stepped forward, awestruck. "David…" she whispered, her voice barely audible, reverence in her gaze as she took in the quiet storm that was her master.

David said nothing, only glancing at her briefly before turning back to the dark stain on the ground. "Let this be a warning to those who dwell in the shadows," he murmured, his voice a quiet promise to the darkness itself.