Chapter 179: The Predator’s Turning Point

Varkhaz’s claws descended.

Andras stepped forward, raising his sword to meet the attack.

Steel collided with ruinous claws.

The impact thundered through the corridor. Sparks scattered through the darkness, and cracks spread beneath Andras’s boots as the force drove him backward.

Pain tore through his ribs. His injured shoulder trembled under the pressure, but he tightened his grip, refusing to let his sword be forced aside.

Varkhaz leaned forward, a savage grin stretching across his face.

“Still standing? How stubborn.”

Andras offered no reply.

A direct exchange of blows favored the demon. Varkhaz possessed overwhelming physical strength, and even a successful block sent shockwaves through Andras’s battered body.

He needed to change the rhythm of the fight.

Before Varkhaz could press his advantage, Andras twisted his sword and slipped sideways, allowing the claws to scrape across the blade rather than meeting them head-on.

The moment the pressure shifted, he moved.

Echo Step.

His figure blurred across the broken floor, leaving an afterimage where he had stood a heartbeat earlier.

He reappeared beside Varkhaz’s wounded left flank.

His sword flashed, striking the existing wound and cutting deeper into the damaged flesh beneath the demon’s scales.

Varkhaz’s grin vanished.

A low growl escaped his throat as he swung his elbow backward.

Andras ducked, but the movement aggravated his injured ribs. The blow grazed his side, throwing him off balance. He stumbled, his boots scraping against the stone, before managing to steady himself.

Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.

His reactions are getting faster.

Varkhaz was no longer chasing afterimages blindly. He watched Andras’s shoulders, footwork, and sword movements, anticipating his next move before committing to an attack.

Echo Step could create an opening, but it could no longer guarantee one.

Andras needed something more.

Mana surged through his body.

Sovereign Predator Physique.

His muscles tightened as the enhancement spread through him. His movements sharpened, his footing steadied, and his awareness narrowed to Varkhaz’s every movement. Each shift in the demon’s weight revealed a potential opening.

But the ability consumed enormous amounts of mana. He could sustain it only briefly.

Andras lowered his center of gravity.

Varkhaz charged.

His claws swept across the corridor, tearing through the air with enough force to shatter the already damaged walls.

Andras slipped beneath the first strike and evaded the second. Instead of retreating beyond the demon’s reach, he advanced along the inside of the attack, seeking to exploit the opening between Varkhaz’s movements.

His sword drove toward the wounded flank.

Varkhaz twisted at the last moment. The blade cut across his side but failed to penetrate as deeply as Andras intended.

A heavy kick slammed into Andras’s abdomen.

He flew backward and crashed into the wall. Stone fractured around him, and for several seconds, he could do nothing but struggle for breath.

He slid down the wall, leaving a smear of blood behind him.

Varkhaz approached at an unhurried pace.

“You keep trying the same tricks. You think moving faster will save you?”

Andras pushed himself upright.

“No.”

His voice remained quiet, almost indifferent.

“I think you’re getting careless.”

Varkhaz’s expression hardened.

He lunged.

Andras barely evaded the first strike. The claws tore through the wall beside his head, sending fragments of stone across his face.

He countered with a horizontal slash.

Varkhaz blocked it with his forearm. The collision jarred Andras’s injured shoulder, but he used the recoil to withdraw before the demon could seize him.

Another exchange followed.

Andras targeted the left flank. Varkhaz guarded it.

Andras shifted his attack toward the shoulder. Varkhaz turned to intercept him.

With every exchange, the demon adjusted more quickly.

His injuries restricted his movements, but his instincts compensated for the damage. He guarded his wounded side without leaving his vital areas exposed.

Andras studied him between attacks.

Varkhaz favored aggressive counters. Whenever Andras threatened the wounded flank, the demon instinctively shifted his weight to protect it before retaliating with overwhelming force.

It was an effective response.

Andras intended to turn it against him.

He deliberately allowed his next attack to fall short.

His sword swept across Varkhaz’s side without cutting deeply.

The demon seized the opportunity.

His claws descended in a brutal diagonal strike, forcing Andras to retreat. Instead of taking the safest escape route, Andras staggered toward the wounded side, making his movement appear slower than it was.

Varkhaz took the bait.

He stepped forward, twisting his torso to bring his claws around for the finishing blow.

His wounded side stretched.

His balance shifted.

For an instant, his defenses around his torso weakened.

Andras moved.

He surged forward before Varkhaz could complete the swing, slipping beneath the descending claws. His shoulder brushed against the demon’s torso as he forced himself into close range.

There was no room for a wide sword strike.

So he shortened the movement.

Gripping the hilt with both hands, he thrust upward beneath Varkhaz’s ribs.

The blade penetrated.

Varkhaz’s eyes widened.

A strangled growl burst from his throat. His claws struck Andras across the back, tearing through his clothing and hurling him away.

Andras hit the ground hard. His sword nearly slipped from his grasp, but he held on.

Across the corridor, Varkhaz staggered.

Dark blood ran from the wound as he wrenched himself free of the blade. He stumbled several steps, one hand clamped over his torso.

For the first time, his expression revealed something beyond anger.

He had underestimated his opponent.

Andras forced himself onto one knee.

His chest rose and fell unevenly. The Sovereign Predator Physique had consumed most of his remaining mana. Maintaining it any longer would leave him with too little strength to continue fighting.

He released the enhancement.

Without its support, the strain of his injuries became harder to ignore.

Still, he kept his sword raised.

Varkhaz tore a strip from his clothing and pressed it against the wound. His breathing was ragged, but his gaze remained fixed on Andras.

“You little bastard…”

Andras said nothing.

The wound had disrupted Varkhaz’s breathing and restricted his torso. Combined with the damage to his left flank and shoulder, it was beginning to limit his movements.

But it had not killed him.

Varkhaz straightened. His body trembled with rage as the mana surrounding him surged violently.

Then he charged again.

Andras tightened his grip on the sword.

He had finally inflicted damage that could turn the battle in his favor.

But it wasn’t enough to finish Varkhaz.

He needed one more opening—before the demon found one of his own.

Andras stepped forward to meet the incoming demon.

—

Several corridors away, Seraphina’s battle continued.

Her Wind Blades streaked down the narrow passage in rapid succession, striking the demon’s elongated arms before it could reach her.

The creature recoiled as the magical blades carved shallow wounds into its flesh, its unnaturally long limbs twisting through the air.

Seraphina didn’t wait to assess the damage.

She retreated behind a broken pillar.

The demon’s arms shot forward, stretching around the obstruction with disturbing speed. Their tips struck the stone where she had stood moments earlier, sending fragments scattering across the floor.

She slipped away before the creature could close its claws around her.

The narrow passage limited its ability to attack from multiple directions, just as she had intended. Between the broken pillars and fallen masonry, the demon couldn’t bring its full reach to bear at once.

Yet the advantage wasn’t enough.

Its elongated limbs were difficult to predict. Even when her spells struck cleanly, the creature continued advancing, seemingly indifferent to wounds that should have slowed it.

Seraphina raised her hand.

A barrier of compressed wind formed before her.

“Gale Barrier!”

The demon’s arms slammed into the protective spell.

The barrier shuddered under the impact. A violent burst of air swept through the corridor, scattering dust and loose stones.

For a moment, the creature was held back.

Then its elongated limbs twisted around the barrier’s edge.

Seraphina withdrew just as its claws pierced the space where her chest had been.

Her expression remained composed, but her thoughts raced.

Ordinary attacks aren’t enough.

Her Wind Blades could injure the creature, and Gale Barrier could delay its advance, but neither was powerful enough to end the fight before it adapted to her movements.

She needed greater power.

Seraphina drew a measured breath and began gathering mana.

The air around her shifted.

Wind spiraled through the passage, sweeping dust and loose fragments into rising currents. The pressure intensified with every passing second, forcing the demon to slow its advance.

It sensed the growing danger.

Its elongated arms lashed toward her from opposite sides, attempting to interrupt her spell before it could take shape.

Seraphina maneuvered between the attacks, maintaining her concentration as the currents accelerated.

Cold air pressed against her skin.

Mana converged around her, growing denser and more turbulent. The wind that had once served as a shield or a series of cutting blades began gathering into something far more destructive.

The passage trembled beneath the mounting pressure.

The demon lunged again.

Seraphina raised her hand, her gaze fixed on the approaching creature.

“Fifth Circle Spell—Skyfall Tempest!”

Compressed wind swallowed the corridor.