As Ram's footsteps faded into the distance, Mando widened his stance and brought his massive sword up in a defensive position. He gripped the hilt firmly with both hands, left hand forward and right hand back, the weight of the weapon perfectly balanced in his practiced grasp. The forest had gone unnaturally quiet, even the insects and night birds falling silent as if holding their breath in anticipation of the coming confrontation.
Come out, demon. I'm ready for you, Mando thought, his senses heightened by the imminent danger. His eyes scanned the darkness methodically, looking for any sign of movement among the shadows to his left and right.
Without warning, something shot from the shadows to his right—a blur of pale, twisted flesh moving faster than should be possible. It struck at Mando with devastating force, aiming directly for his chest.
With reflexes honed by years of training and combat, Mando swung his oversized blade to intercept the attack. Metal met flesh with a sound like thunder, and to the demon's evident surprise, the blade did not give way. Instead, hairline cracks appeared along the surface of the sword as it absorbed the tremendous impact, the vibrations traveling painfully up Mando's arms.
The demon recoiled, examining its attacking appendage with what appeared to be confusion. The limb was smoking slightly, the pale flesh charred where it had made contact with the blade. Silver inlay in the steel, Mando noted with grim satisfaction, adjusting his grip so his right hand took most of the weapon's weight. The old stories are true, then.
A chilling laugh emanated from the shadows, neither human nor animal—a sound that seemed to bypass the ears entirely and slither directly into the mind. It came from all directions at once, making it impossible to locate the source.
"You still managed to laugh after what you did to my companion!" Mando shouted, disgust and anger evident in his voice. He adjusted his grip on the sword, his left hand sliding forward slightly on the hilt to prepare for the next attack. Show yourself, monster, he thought furiously.
From the darkness to his left, a voice replied—silky and almost pleasant, which somehow made it all the more disturbing. "What do I care? Your companion tasted awful anyway." The casual cruelty in those words made Mando's blood boil. "But don't worry, since you were able to block my attack, I'll give you this."
A small object sailed through the air from the darkness on his right, landing at Mando's feet. Looking down, he saw what appeared to be a handful of small red beans, gleaming wetly in the moonlight. Blood pearls, he realized with revulsion. The essence of victims transformed.
"Red beans," the voice continued, a hint of amusement coloring its tone. "If you eat them, you'll become one of us, strong. Don't you want that?"
Mando's lip curled in revulsion. "I don't need that. I need to kill you," he declared, his voice steady despite the fear threatening to creep into his heart. His right hand tightened around the hilt of his sword until his knuckles whitened, while his left hand subtly reached for the pouch at his belt. In his mind, he saw the faces of his wife and young son waiting for him at home, their love giving him strength. For them, he thought. Everything for them.
The disembodied laugh came again, closer this time on his left. "He he he..."
Suddenly, a figure stepped into the moonlight directly before him, initially appearing as a handsome young man with delicate features. But as Mando watched, the creature's face began to transform—the smooth skin splitting to reveal glistening muscle beneath, the jaw unhinging to display rows of needle-like teeth, and the eyes sinking into the skull before re-emerging as bulbous, multi-faceted orbs that reflected the moonlight in a dozen fractured pieces.
"If you can!" the demon challenged, its voice now a guttural growl that barely resembled human speech, its right claw extending toward Mando in a mocking gesture.
Before Mando could blink, the demon vanished from sight, moving with that impossible speed. But Mando had anticipated this. In one swift motion, he reached into a pouch at his belt with his left hand and extracted a handful of fine silver powder, a substance he had prepared specifically for night patrols in demon-infested areas. Old hunter's trick, he recalled. Please work.
With a practiced flick of his left wrist, he scattered the powder in a circle around himself, creating a barely visible barrier that glinted faintly in the moonlight. Let's see if this works as the old hunter claimed, he thought, readying his sword once more with both hands.
Seconds later, the demon lunged at him from behind, clearly intending to end the fight with a single, devastating strike. Its right claw extended toward Mando's spine while its left formed into a barbed whip aimed at his neck. But as it crossed the barrier of silver powder, a sizzling sound filled the air, and the creature let out a shriek of pain as its flesh began to smoke and burn.
Now! Mando's mind screamed, sensing his opportunity. He pivoted on his right foot, swinging his massive sword in a wide arc with both hands, channeling all his strength into the blow. The blade whistled through the air, aimed directly at the demon's midsection.
But the creature, despite its pain, grinned wickedly and twisted its body in an impossible manner, contorting around the arc of the blade. With horrifying speed, it extended its right limb, now formed into a razor-sharp spear, and drove it deep into Mando's stomach.
Pain exploded through Mando's body as the demonic appendage pierced his flesh, warm blood immediately soaking his uniform and dripping onto the forest floor. Too fast, he thought through the haze of agony. I was too slow after all. The taste of copper filled his mouth as blood rose in his throat, spilling past his lips in a crimson stream down the right side of his chin.
The demon withdrew its limb and disappeared once more, reappearing atop a nearby tree branch to Mando's left. It crouched there like some nightmarish gargoyle, observing Mando's suffering with evident pleasure, its left hand idly stroking the branch while its right licked the blood from its transformed limb.
"Hehehehe, what now, human?!" it taunted, licking Mando's blood from its transformed right limb with a grotesquely long tongue.
Mando fell to one knee, his left hand pressed against the wound in a futile attempt to stem the bleeding, his right still clutching his sword. His breaths came in ragged gasps, each one sending fresh waves of agony through his body. Blood continued to trickle from the right corner of his mouth, staining his beard crimson.
I'm dying, he realized with strange clarity. But I'm not dead yet.
"Cough— It seems my time has come," he murmured, the words barely audible. In his mind's eye, he saw his wife's gentle smile and his son's innocent face, memories that brought a strange peace despite the dire circumstances. I'm sorry I won't return to you, he thought. But I'll make sure this monster never threatens you. Against all odds, Mando smiled.
The demon tilted its head in confusion, its bulbous eyes narrowing. "Why are you smiling, huh?!" it demanded, unable to comprehend this human's reaction in the face of certain death. It shifted its weight nervously, left foot sliding back slightly on the branch.
You're right to be nervous, Mando thought, gathering the last reserves of his strength. His left hand pressed harder against his wound, trying to contain his lifeblood for just a few moments more while his right adjusted his grip on the sword.
Suddenly he roared, "WHY AM I SMILING?!" The force of his shout startled birds from nearby trees. In one fluid motion born of desperation and will, he surged to his feet and lunged toward the tree where the demon perched, ignoring the fresh torrent of blood that gushed from his wound.
With a mighty swing that sent pain lancing through his wounded body, Mando brought his sword down on the trunk of the tree with both hands. The blade, already weakened from the earlier impact, cleaved through the wood with a splintering crack. The tree began to topple, catching the demon by surprise.
This human's strength is extraordinary, the demon thought as it tumbled from its perch, its right limb flailing wildly for balance. Even mortally wounded, he fights on!
Recovering quickly, it twisted in midair, transforming its limbs into deadly weapons as it fell, determined to finish what it had started. Its left arm became a serrated blade while its right formed into a gnarled club.
But Mando was ready. As the demon descended, he dropped his sword from his right hand and, with lightning-fast reflexes that belied his wounded state, grabbed the creature's right hand in an iron grip. The contact with Mando's silver-infused gauntlet caused the demon's flesh to sizzle and smoke once more.
"What now?" Mando taunted, a fierce light burning in his eyes despite the pallor of his skin. With his left hand, he delivered a devastating punch directly to the demon's left eye, channeling all his remaining strength into the blow.
The impact was tremendous, the demon's face caving inward where Mando's left fist connected. Dark ichor sprayed from the wound, some of it spattering across the right side of Mando's face, burning his skin wherever it touched. But the warrior didn't flinch, his focus absolute in these final moments. For Rol, he thought. For my family. For everyone.
Howling in pain and rage, the demon transformed its left hand into a dagger-like appendage and plunged it into Mando's abdomen, directly into the existing wound. Fresh blood gushed from the deepened injury, and Mando coughed violently, more crimson liquid spilling past his lips and down his chin.
The demon tried to pull away, to retreat and regroup, its right limb twisting desperately in Mando's grasp. To its horror, it found itself unable to move. Mando's grip on its right hand was unbreakable, a vise that even the creature's supernatural strength couldn't overcome. And with its left hand buried in Mando's abdomen, it was effectively trapped.
"Where do you think you're going..." Mando gasped, blood bubbling between his words. His eyes, though dimming, still burned with fierce determination. His left hand moved to grasp the demon's left wrist, further securing the creature in place. "You're staying here!"
I'm dying, Mando thought, but you're coming with me.
As they remained locked in this deadly embrace, the forest around them began to lighten almost imperceptibly. The night was drawing to a close, the first hints of dawn approaching from beyond the eastern mountains. The demon seemed to sense this change, its struggles becoming more frantic with each passing moment, both limbs twisting violently in Mando's implacable grip.
Sunlight, the demon's mind raced with growing panic. No!
Slowly, the sun began to rise, its golden rays gradually penetrating the forest canopy. What had been a desperate standoff was now illuminated by the increasing light of day, revealing Mando's ashen face and the demon's grotesque form in stark detail.
The creature grew more aggressive as the light strengthened, its movements becoming erratic and panicked. "Let me go!!!" it demanded, its voice losing its earlier confidence. In desperation, it lunged forward, trying to sink its needle-like teeth into Mando's neck, straining against the warrior's grip.
But even in his weakened state, Mando was a warrior to the core. With the last of his strength, he turned his head to the right, the demon's teeth scraping against the left side of his neck but couldn't penetrate—whether due to some divine protection or simply the extraordinary toughness of a man who had spent his life defending others, the creature couldn't break through.
As the sun climbed higher on the horizon, its rays intensified, casting a golden hue over the macabre scene. Where the light touched the demon's pale flesh, it began to smoke and blister, the creature's supernatural strength waning with each passing second.
"S-stop... the sunlight!" it hissed, writhing in Mando's implacable grip. The proud, taunting predator of the night was now reduced to a desperate, cornered animal, its right limb smoking where Mando held it, its left still embedded in the warrior's abdomen.
Mando's vision was beginning to darken around the edges, his life ebbing away with each drop of blood that fell to the forest floor. Yet his grip never faltered, his purpose never wavered. "You're not going anywhere," he whispered through clenched teeth, his voice barely audible now. The right side of his mouth curled into a satisfied smile as he felt the demon weakening in his grasp.
In his fading consciousness, Mando thought of his family once more. I'm sorry I won't be coming home, he thought sadly. But I've ensured you'll be safe... that this monster will never threaten you or anyone else again.
As the sun's rays fully illuminated the clearing, the demon's body began to crumble, turning to ash in Mando's hands. Its final scream was cut short as its throat dissolved into nothingness, its fearsome form reduced to dust that scattered in the morning breeze.
With the creature's destruction, Mando finally allowed himself to collapse, his left hand pressing weakly against his mortal wound, his right hand now empty of his foe. He fell to his knees, then onto his back, staring up at the canopy of leaves now bathed in golden sunlight.
Beautiful, he thought as his vision dimmed. At least I get to see the sunrise one last time.
Meanwhile, from a ridge overlooking the clearing, a glint of sunlight on metal caught the attention of a patrol that had been dispatched when Ram burst through the city gates with news of the attack. The captain raised his right hand, signaling his men to advance.
"There!" he shouted, pointing with his left hand toward the fallen figure in the clearing. "Move quickly!"
As they rushed down the slope, the captain could already tell they were too late to save Mando. But the ring of silver powder that surrounded him, the ashen remains of the demon, and the peaceful expression on the fallen warrior's face told a story of victory despite the sacrifice.
"He killed it," the captain murmured in awe, kneeling beside Mando's body. "Alone."
Behind him, Ram pushed through the group of soldiers, his face etched with grief when he saw his fallen comrade. He knelt opposite the captain, taking Mando's right hand in both of his own.
"You did it, brother," Ram whispered, tears streaming freely down his face now. "You kept your promise. The city is safe."
Your family will know you died a hero, he added silently. I'll make sure of it.
As the patrol gathered around to honor their fallen brother, the forest seemed to brighten further, as if in recognition of the sacrifice that had been made. Somewhere in the distance, birds began to sing once more, life returning to the woods that had been silent in the presence of the demon.
"And that's a hero who had given everything to protect his loved ones and his people," Sol declared, his powerful voice filling the training hall as he looked over his new students. He was tall and lean, with salt-and-pepper hair pulled back in a tight warrior's knot. A prominent scar ran along the left side of his face, from temple to jaw—a badge of honor from battles long past. His right hand rested comfortably on the pommel of the sword at his hip—not an ornamental weapon, but one that had seen real combat.
"My name is Sol, and from now on, I'm your teacher in this classroom. Do you all understand, future swordsmen?"
"YES, SIR!" the students responded in unison, their young voices blending into a chorus of enthusiasm and determination.
"The path of the sword is not an easy one," Sol continued, addressing the entire class but finding his eyes drawn back to Aelar. "It is not about glory or fame or wealth. The true swordsman fights not for himself, but for others. Like Mando, a true hero doesn't seek recognition—he simply does what must be done, even when no one is watching, even when it costs him everything."