Chapter 111: He’s Fast

He moved with the erratic agility of a frightened spider.

He leaped into the air, kicking off the bone-white pillars, tumbling across the mounds of treasure, dodging, weaving, and desperately throwing up hasty, emerald-green shields of magical energy.

CRASH! CRASH!! CRASH!!!

Seraphina’s shadow spears obliterated everything they touched. They shattered the stone pillars, sending chunks of debris crashing to the floor. They pierced the enchanted mirrors, freeing the screaming ghosts within, who instantly fled the hall in terror.

The Trickster landed on top of a pile of rusted swords, panting, his patchwork coat torn and singed by the near-misses.

He felt a deep, burning humiliation rise in his chest, warring with his absolute terror.

He was an immortal!

He was a lord of illusions!

And he was being hunted in his own conservatory by a child who hadn’t even lost all her baby teeth!

He watched her launch another volley of shadow blades, easily sidestepped them, watching as they carved deep, smoldering trenches into the stone walls.

And then, his battle-honed demonic intellect realized something crucial.

’She is missing,’ the Trickster thought, his slit-eyes narrowing as he tracked her movements. ’Her power is absolute. The density is catastrophic. But her aim is terrible. She has no technique, no physical conditioning. She is simply throwing raw, unrefined mass at me.’

He realized she wasn’t a trained warrior.

She was an overflowing reservoir of power acting purely on instinct. It was like watching a toddler try to swing a giant’s war hammer. The hammer was deadly, but the wielder had no control over the momentum.

’If she knew how to compress that mana into a targeted sphere... I would already have turned to ashes,’ the demon realized, a sudden, vicious spark of opportunistic malice reigniting his courage. ’She is a waste of a Supreme Core! She is sloppy!’

The fear receded, replaced by a toxic, venomous irritation.

"You insolent little brat!" the Trickster snarled, wiping the sweat from his brow, his black curse marks pulsing rapidly. "You possess the power of a god, and you swing it like a blind peasant!"

He didn’t run away this time. He went on the offensive.

He leaped from the pile of swords, soaring through the air with impossible speed, diving directly toward her. He raised both of his hands, summoning a rotating buzzsaw of emerald, toxic flames.

"Let me show you how to carve meat!" he roared, swinging the flaming buzzsaw directly down toward Seraphina’s head.

Seraphina didn’t flinch or even try to dodge. She didn’t know how to dodge.

She simply looked up at the descending emerald blade, her violet eyes burning with uncompromising disgust.

The moment the Trickster’s magic came within three feet of her body, her Supreme Dark Core reacted automatically, executing a flawless, absolute defense protocol that Seraphina didn’t even consciously command.

A spherical dome of pitch-black, liquid shadow violently expanded from her skin.

SKREEEEEEECH!!!

The emerald buzzsaw slammed into the dark dome. The sound of the conflicting magics was like metal grinding against a chalkboard amplified a thousand times.

The Trickster’s eyes widened in horror.

His magic didn’t just fail to penetrate the shield. The dark dome was actively eating the flames. The emerald fire was being violently stripped of its energy, turning gray and dissipating into ash.

"Impossible!" the demon screamed, pushing more of his ancient mana into the attack, desperate to break her guard.

But the shield held itself up as absolute. Seraphina stood in the center of the dark dome, completely untouched, staring up at him through the liquid shadows.

"You’re annoying," Seraphina echoed, her voice cold and flat.

She didn’t drop the shield; instead, reached her hand through it.

Her small hand breached the dome, protected by a thick layer of dark mana. She reached up and grabbed the Trickster directly by the wrist of the hand holding the fading emerald blade.

The moment her hand touched him, the physical contact bypassed all of his defensive auras.

SSSSSSSS.

It sounded like meat being thrown onto a white-hot grill.

"AAAAAAAGGGGHHH!"

The Trickster shrieked, a sound of pure agony that dwarfed the screams of the children.

Where Seraphina’s tiny fingers gripped his pale skin, the flesh was disintegrating. The dark mana was instantly neutralizing the demonic magic holding his physical form together, burning through his skin, his muscles, and down to the bone in a fraction of a second.

He violently jerked his arm back, tearing himself free from her grip.

He scrambled backward across the floor, clutching his wrist.

He looked down at his arm. The flesh around his wrist had been completely burned away, leaving charred, blackened bone exposed to the air. The agonizing pain was so intense it clouded his vision.

’She didn’t cast a spell,’ the demon panicked, his chest heaving, staring at her in mind-shattering disbelief. ’She just touched me. Her very existence is a poison to my kind. She is an anti-demon.’

He realized, with absolute, terrifying clarity, that he could not win this fight.

He was unable to pierce her automatic defenses, and was unable to touch her without being disintegrated. He was faster than her; he had centuries of combat experience, but none of it mattered against a creature whose mere physical presence acted as an eraser for his existence.

He had to flee. He had to abandon the conservatory, abandon the harvest, and run as fast and as far as his magic could carry him.

The Trickster scrambled to his feet, his healing factor frantically trying to knit the flesh of his wrist back together, though the dark mana residue significantly slowed the regeneration.

He turned his back on her, intending to cast a spatial displacement portal to escape.

But Seraphina was not going to let the monster who had eaten a child in front of her walk away.

Her adult mind, swimming in the overwhelming ocean of the Dark Core’s power, was rapidly adapting.

She was learning.

’He’s fast,’ she analyzed, watching him prepare to flee in silence.