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The arrows froze midair, inches from striking us, before clattering to the ground—only for more to appear the next moment. A shield of essence surged up, forming a high, circular barrier with Lucian, Arion, Finnian, and me at its center.

Figures materialized on the balcony above—ten, twenty, thirty—until they filled our vision.

Peculiar golden markings adorned them: some had golden eyes, others a single glowing iris, golden fangs, or streaks of gold in their hair.

Some were entirely golden, while others bore no visible signs at all.

"So, you were raising an army of the Damned," I said, turning to Finnian. He remained on his knees, the contraction field still binding him. Essence bled from his body, his chest gaping as blood pooled beneath him.

"Let’s see how you escape now," he wheezed, his once-gentle demeanor twisting into madness.

I crouched beside him, smiling. "You really think this will save you?" My voice dropped to a whisper. "I’m going to love driving you insane."

Essence howled through the hall. I turned. "You want to fight me with arrows?" I lifted a hand, and silver projectiles materialized—ten, fifty, a hundred—filling the space like a storm of gleaming stars.

Then, in an instant—boom.

The arrows erupted like a volcanic explosion, flooding the room with silver energy.

They tore through the air, piercing eyes, hearts, and flesh.

Some adversaries conjured golden shields that held, while others cracked, leaving gaping wounds.

But the golden fluid within them pulsed, sealing the injuries.

As expected, it wasn’t enough to kill them, but it made a statement.

Then they leaped over the railing. Some fired golden beams at the shield; others struck it physically. The silver barrier held, growing brighter, but I could feel it draining my essence at an alarming rate.

Lucian swept his gaze over the battlefield, and the air turned frigid. Ice surged up, reinforcing the shield, while Arion dissolved into shadows, reappearing in the path of an oncoming golden beam. His sword intercepted it, the runes on its blade flaring with brilliant light. Then he swung.

A golden arc ripped through the hall. It didn’t slice through flesh—bodies simply dissolved into red and gold mist. The wave of destruction cracked the walls, then the ones beyond them, turning half the mansion to ruin.

Ice spears rained from above, impaling those below. Though the golden fluid filled their wounds, new spears formed in an instant, keeping them pinned. Yet they pressed forward, reckless and relentless, their reserves seemingly endless.

Lucian’s essence wavered—I could feel it. He had done too much tonight. Arion still fought on, each golden strike carving through the hall. Realizing energy attacks were futile, the Damned shifted strategies. So did he. He blinked through the shadows, engaging in brutal hand-to-hand combat.

His strikes were precise—tearing at hearts, crushing skulls. Black energy filled the wounds he left behind, suppressing the golden regeneration.

The winds howled, frost creeping over the battlefield, though weaker than in the Blackwood mansion. Still, it slowed them, their movements turning sluggish.

A massive crossbow appeared in my hands. I could manifest attacks without a weapon, but channeling essence through a form made it more precise, more devastating.

I moved.

The ground shattered beneath me. A heartbeat later, hundreds of arrows launched in unison—dense, silver, and blinding.

They ripped through the space like falling stars, obliterating everything in their path.

This time, the wounds they left weren’t mere holes—they were cavernous, entire limbs and torsos reduced to nothing. Golden shields shattered instantly.

And yet, they kept coming. Kill one, and two more appeared. How many had Finnian hidden in his own home? How had they escaped detection? This was no ordinary case.

The battle raged on. Lucian slowed them, I broke them, and Arion cut down anyone foolish enough to use energy against him. But I felt it now—even I, newly awakened, could feel my essence depleting. Lucian and Arion, undoubtedly stronger, had burned through too much tonight.

Then a golden spear tore through the air.

It struck the ice shield, cracks slithering across its frozen surface. Arion appeared beside it, absorbing the next attack before vanishing again, leaving a golden slash in his wake

"Reaching your limit so soon?" Arion appeared beside Lucian as he said as if it was a matter-of-fact statement.

and then as if it was just to make his remark—he dissipated into shadows again.

Lucian exhaled, unfazed. "Hmm." The ice barrier thickened, reinforcing itself.

But my gaze never left the source of the spear.

He stood at the far end of the hall, unmoving. Golden hair, golden eyes, and even his fangs gleamed with that cursed glow. Another spear materialized in his grasp, its energy palpable even from across the room.

I launched more arrows and stepped inside the shield.

"I’ll handle these minions," Lucian said. "You focus on that Damned."

I nodded.

In the blink of an eye, I reappeared across the hall, a silver spear forming in my grip. Pouring the purest essence into it, I knew—this had to be my all.

The golden spear left his hand in a blazing arc, It was brilliant golden like a liquid metal in the shape of a slithering snake. At the same instant, I hurled mine.

Gold and silver met in the center of the hall.

The impact sent a deafening chime through the space, warping the air itself. Everyone recoiled, irritation flashing across their faces.

And across the battlefield, his golden eyes met mine.