As they ascended to the second floor, a solitary figure awaited them. Standing exactly two meters tall, the warrior was clad in tight black armor that seemed to absorb the surrounding light. His eyes glowed with an intense azure blue, creating an eerie contrast against his dark attire. In his right hand, he gripped a midnight-black katana that seemed to radiate shadows. A sleek mask covered the lower half of his face, revealing only those haunting blue eyes. Though his body appeared metallic, he moved with unmistakably human grace.
"My name is Bale, the Black Knight," the figure announced, his voice resonant yet cold. "I, too, once sought to kill Steel and save the Undercity." He tilted his head slightly, studying the three warriors before him. "I was born and raised in the Undercity's chasm. When I was transformed into a Steel Soldier, I became far more powerful than I ever was as a human."
The Black Knight raised his katana, its blade catching what little light existed in the chamber and turning it to darkness. "You will not defeat me. My power rivals even Steel himself."
Michael stepped forward, the Shimobe Blade glowing crimson at his side. "We will defeat you, and we will defeat Steel. For my requiem," he declared, his voice steady with conviction.
Without warning, Michael launched himself toward Bale, the Shimobe Blade leaving a trail of crimson light in its wake. As he closed the distance, his eyes met Bale's azure gaze. In that instant, Michael felt a chill run through his entire body, causing him to hesitate for just a fraction of a second.
That hesitation proved catastrophic.
The world around Michael suddenly vanished, replaced by an impenetrable void of absolute darkness. He couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't even scream. There was nothing but emptiness and the terrifying sensation of being completely immobilized.
When reality returned in a nauseating rush, Michael felt cold steel piercing his abdomen. Bale had driven his black katana deep into Michael's gut. As Bale withdrew the blade with a sickening sound, blood gushed from the wound in volumes far greater than should have been possible from a single stab.
"What... was that?" Michael gasped, staring in shock at the impossible amount of blood pouring from his body. "An illusion? Or something worse?"
He collapsed to his knees, the Shimobe Blade clattering to the floor beside him as darkness crept into the edges of his vision. Within seconds, Michael Florescent—the Crimson Angel—lay unconscious in a pool of his own blood.
"He took out Michael that easily?" Violet whispered, her usual confidence shaken.
James didn't hesitate. With a roar of determination, he leapt high into the air, his gauntlets glowing with intense blue energy as he descended toward Bale in a powerful plunging attack.
The Black Knight stepped aside with effortless grace, as if James were moving in slow motion. James landed hard, immediately transitioning into a relentless barrage of punches—each powerful enough to shatter concrete—but Bale evaded every single strike with minimal movement.
Growing frustrated, James overextended on a powerful right hook. Bale capitalized instantly, delivering a precise strike to James's legs that swept him off his feet and sent him crashing to the floor.
Without pausing, Bale turned his haunting gaze toward Violet, then lunged forward with frightening speed, his black katana aimed directly at her heart.
Violet's enhanced reflexes allowed her to dodge the initial thrust, her body twisting at an impossible angle as the blade passed within millimeters of her vital organs. She created distance with a backward flip, then drew both guns and unleashed a storm of energy blasts at the Black Knight.
To her horror, Bale's katana moved in a blur of perfect arcs, somehow slicing each energy bolt in half before it could reach him. The severed projectiles dissipated into harmless sparks around the warrior.
"Impossible," Violet breathed.
Bale dashed toward her with inhuman speed, his intention clearly to separate her head from her shoulders. Violet attempted to evade again, but as she moved, she made the fatal mistake of meeting Bale's gaze.
The world dissolved around her, replaced by the same consuming void that had claimed Michael. When reality reasserted itself, Violet found her guns sliced to pieces in her hands, and both her arms bearing deep, precise cuts from shoulder to wrist. Blood cascaded down her limbs and pooled at her feet.
Before she could activate her healing abilities, the massive blood loss took its toll. Her vision swam, her knees buckled, and Violet joined Michael in unconsciousness.
James struggled to his feet, watching in horror as both his allies fell to this seemingly invincible opponent. When Bale turned those glowing azure eyes toward him, James deliberately looked at the Black Knight's chest instead of his face.
"I've figured you out," James declared, his voice steadier than he felt. "Your abilities. First, your katana has a bleed effect—when it cuts a person significantly, it causes them to lose blood far more rapidly than a normal wound. And second, your gaze—if someone looking into your eyes feels fear, hesitation, loses hope, or doubts themselves, they freeze in some kind of void."
A chilling sound emerged from behind Bale's mask—something between a laugh and a sigh. "So now you think you can beat me?"
"I know I can," James replied with conviction.
"Just because you've figured me out doesn't mean you can win, Sky," Bale said, using James's surname with mocking familiarity. "You will still lose."
They lunged at each other simultaneously, James's energy-charged gauntlet meeting Bale's black katana in a spectacular collision that sent sparks flying throughout the chamber. The impact generated a shockwave that cracked the floor beneath them.
James backstepped twice, then channeled maximum power into his right gauntlet and slammed it into the ground with all his might. The impact created a devastating shockwave that rippled outward, shattering the floor in a direct line toward Bale.
The Black Knight simply leapt above the destruction, his body twisting gracefully in mid-air as he brought his katana down in an arc aimed at James's neck.
James narrowly avoided decapitation with a well-timed sidestep, then countered with his most powerful technique.
"DIABLO FIST!" he roared, his gauntlet glowing with blinding blue light as he delivered a devastating punch directly to Bale's sternum.
The impact sent the Black Knight flying backward, his boots leaving deep gouges in the floor as he slid to a stop. For the first time, Bale showed signs of damage—dark fluid that might have been blood seeped through his mask as he coughed from the force of the blow.
Sensing advantage, James pressed forward with another powerful strike. Just before his fist connected, Bale's form shimmered and vanished completely.
James froze, his head whipping around as he searched for his opponent. "Where—"
A searing pain erupted between his shoulder blades as Bale's black katana emerged from the shadows, piercing clean through James's back. The blade withdrew with a sickening sound, and Bale vanished again before James could counterattack.
"Don't feel scared," James whispered to himself, fighting to remain conscious as blood soaked the back of his shirt. "Don't feel scared."
Bale materialized directly in front of him, driving his katana through James's chest in a lightning-fast thrust. Though the blade miraculously missed his heart, the enhanced bleeding effect immediately began to take its toll. Blood poured from both wounds, and James felt his strength rapidly fading.
"Don't pass out," he commanded himself, vision already beginning to blur. "Stand strong. If I pass out, we lose everything."
Through sheer willpower, James remained standing, though swaying dangerously. Bale seemed almost impressed as he prepared for a final, decapitating strike. The Black Knight's katana whistled through the air on its deadly path—
Only to be intercepted by a flash of crimson light.
Michael stood between them, the Shimobe Blade glowing fiercely as it deflected Bale's attack. Despite the massive wound in his stomach, Michael's eyes burned with determination.
"How are you standing?" Bale demanded, genuine surprise evident in his voice.
Instead of answering, Michael launched a vicious counterattack, slashing at Bale's unprotected torso. The Shimobe Blade connected, cutting deep into the Black Knight's armor and drawing first blood.
Without pausing, Michael pivoted and swung for Bale's neck, attempting to end the fight in a single stroke. But Bale recovered with remarkable speed, parrying the attack with his own katana.
Behind them, James finally succumbed to his injuries, collapsing in a growing pool of his own blood.
Michael and Bale became blurs of motion, their blades clashing so rapidly that the sound merged into a continuous metallic ring. Each strike produced showers of sparks as crimson met midnight black, neither warrior gaining a clear advantage.
Realizing he needed a decisive move, Michael activated his wings. The biomechanical appendages unfurled with a soft mechanical whisper as he leapt backward, gaining distance and height from his opponent.
"You cannot escape me," Bale called, readying his stance.
Hovering above the chamber, Michael channeled his energy into the Shimobe Blade. Crimson flames erupted along its length, growing in intensity until they illuminated the entire room in blood-red light.
"CRIMSON COMET SLASH!" Michael roared, propelling himself downward at twice the speed of sound. The air around him superheated, creating a visible shockwave as he tore through the space between them.
Bale stood his ground, raising his black katana above his head. Dark fog began to swirl around the blade, coalescing into a writhing mass of shadow that seemed to devour light itself.
"DIE, FLORESCENT!" Bale screamed, swinging his fog-enshrouded weapon upward to meet Michael's descent.
The two forces collided with apocalyptic force. Crimson flames battled against consuming darkness, neither yielding as the energies sought to annihilate each other. The resulting explosion blew out walls and sent debris flying in all directions as both warriors were thrown to opposite sides of the chamber.
When the dust settled, both Michael and Bale stood wounded but unbowed. Michael's right arm hung limp at his side, while Bale's armor was cracked and smoking across his chest. They stared at each other across the devastated room, each knowing the next exchange would be the last.
"Remember, Michael," Michael said to himself, "the moment I hesitate is the moment I am defeated."
They each assumed perfect kendo stances, katanas held at precise angles as they prepared for the final strike. The chamber grew deathly quiet, the only sound their measured breathing.
In perfect synchronization, they charged. Their blades flashed in the dim light—one trailing crimson flames, the other wreathed in dark fog. They passed each other in a single, perfect exchange, landing on opposite sides of the chamber with their backs to each other.
For three heartbeats, neither moved.
Then, slowly, Bale turned. A diagonal slash had cleaved through his mask and across his face, revealing human features beneath the steel. Blood—real, human blood—trickled from the perfect cut.
"Well done, Michael Florescent," he said, his voice growing weaker. "Now go on, mighty warrior."
Bale collapsed to his knees, then fell forward. As life left his body, a smile formed on his now-visible lips—a smile of peace, perhaps even gratitude.
Michael sheathed the Shimobe Blade with practiced precision. "Thank you for the lesson," he said quietly, bowing to his fallen opponent.
A soft groan from across the room drew Michael's attention. Violet was awakening, her regenerative abilities already working to heal her severed arms. She crawled to James first, placing her partially-healed hands on his chest. A soft blue glow emanated from her palms as she transferred healing energy into his body.
Once James was stabilized, she moved to Michael, closing his wounds and restoring his strength. The three allies stood together, battered but unbroken.
"It's time for Steel," Michael said, his gaze lifting toward the ceiling that separated them from the final floor. "We have to advance now—to the last floor."
James nodded, adjusting his repaired gauntlets. "Let's end this."
Violet checked her reconstructed guns, ensuring they were fully operational. "For the Undercity."
Together, they approached the staircase that would lead them to their final confrontation with Steel himself.