Dudley lunged at me with unexpected speed. The ck Gold Ball pulsed behind him, amplifying his movements as he thrust a golden spear I hadn''t seen before. I barely dodged, feeling the weapon slice through the air where my chest had been a split second earlier.


    "New toy?" I taunted, creating distance between us.


    "A gift from my benefactor," Dudley replied, his voice deeper and more confident than I remembered. "The Sundering Spear. Perfect for dealing with pests like you."


    I circled cautiously, noting how the weapon seemed to extend his aura. This wasn''t the same Dudley I''d faced before. Something fundamental had changed about him—his movements more fluid, his eyes sharper with an unnatural golden glint.


    "Kill him, Dudley!" Julian shouted from behind his desk. "End this threat once and for all!"


    Dudley smiled, but it wasn''t his smile. Something else seemed to be stretching his lips unnaturally wide. "With pleasure, uncle."


    He attacked again, the spear bing a golden blur. I countered with my Chaotic Body technique, allowing my energy to flow in unpredictable patterns. Our sh sent shockwaves through the study, shattering ss cases and toppling bookshelves.


    "You''re stronger," I acknowledged, blocking a strike that numbed my forearm. "But borrowed power alwayses with a price."


    A flicker of something—uncertainty? fear?—crossed Dudley''s face before vanishing. "This power is mine by right."


    "Is it? Or is something using you?" <var ss="in-imprint-b">This content is presented by *.</var>


    His eyes shed with genuine anger. "Shut up!"


    The next exchange was brutal. Dudley''s spear carved through a marble pir when I dodged, reducing it to rubble. The ceiling groaned ominously as structural supports splintered.


    Julian cowered behind his desk, frantically gathering scrolls. "Careful with the artifacts! They''re irreceable!"


    Neither of us paid him any attention. This fight had escted beyond concern for property damage. I needed to assess Dudley''s new capabilities without revealing too much of my own strength.


    The ck Gold Ball hovered nearby, asionally intercepting my more devastating attacks when they neared Julian. Its presence forced me to split my focus, making this a far more dangerous confrontation than I''d anticipated.


    "What''s wrong, Knight?" Dudley taunted, pressing his advantage. "Not so confident when facing a real opponent?"


    I said nothing, conserving energy and looking for openings. His fighting style had changed dramatically—more aggressive, less disciplined, but undeniably more powerful. Whatever had enhanced him had sacrificed technique for raw strength.


    A wild swing of his spear destroyed the remaining support column. The ceiling began to copse in earnest now, chunks of stone raining down.


    "This ce ising apart!" Julian shouted. "We need to move!"


    Dudley ignored him, focused entirely on me. "Running away again, Knight? Like the coward you are?"


    I needed to make this look convincing. Time to take a calcted risk.


    I deliberately slowed my defense, allowing an opening. Dudley didn''t miss it. His spear sliced across my side, drawing blood and genuine pain. Not deep enough to seriously injure, but enough to convince him he had the upper hand.


    "First blood," he crowed, eyes wild with triumph.


    I clutched my side, letting real pain show on my face. "Lucky strike."


    "Luck has nothing to do with it. You''re outmatched."


    The floor beneath us shuddered as support beams gave way. Julian was frantically speaking into amunication device, his words almost lost in the chaos of copsing architecture.


    "President Bancroft! Send help immediately! Knight is here—yes, at my residence! Dudley is engaging him, but we need reinforcements!"


    Perfect. Just as I''d nned.


    I staggered backward, feigning greater injury than I''d sustained. "This isn''t over, Lowell."


    "It is for tonight," he replied, advancing confidently. "Next time, I''ll take your head."


    The ceiling between us copsedpletely, sending up clouds of dust. Through the chaos, I saw Julian pulling at Dudley''s arm.


    "We need to leave! The Guild forces will handle him!"


    Dudley shook him off, his face contorted with rage. "No! I can finish this now!"


    That''s when I heard it—a whisper that shouldn''t have been audible through the noise of destruction. A voice speaking to Dudley that wasn''t Julian''s.


    "Not yet. Let him go. There will be timeter..."


    Dudley froze, conflict evident in his expression. Then, reluctantly, he nodded. "Fine. Let the Guild clean up this mess."


    I used the distraction to slip away through a shattered window, making my escape look desperate and unnned. In reality, everything was proceeding exactly as I needed it to. Julian had contacted Bancroft directly—my presence would trigger exactly the response I wanted.


    As I vanished into the night, I heard Julian''s frantic questions.


    "Who were you talking to? Dudley? Dudley!"


    ---


    I moved swiftly through the darkened streets, monitoring my wound. The cut was painful but superficial—I''d heal quickly with my enhanced abilities. More concerning was the change in Dudley. Whatever had empowered him made him a far more dangerous opponent than before.


    That voice I''d heard... something was using him as a vessel. The golden eyes, the unnatural strength—ssic signs of possession by a higher entity. But what kind of being could merge with a human host like that?


    I had no time to dwell on it. My n was in motion. Julian would have alerted Bancroft, who would dispatch his forces to hunt me. Among them would be Nigel Reyes—the purple-robed enforcer Phoebe had warned me about. And if I was right, he''d be directed to monitor potential meeting points between me and my known associates.


    Including Emerson Holmes.


    I needed to draw Emerson out, and what better way than to make him believe I was targeting his colleagues one by one? The attack on Julian would force the Guild to either move Emerson to a more secure location or surround him with guards I could track.


    Either way, I''d find him.


    I made my way to the western district, where Emerson maintained a private residence separate from his Guild quarters. Unlike Julian''s ostentatious vi, Emerson''s home was modest and nondescript—a deliberate attempt to avoid drawing attention.


    From a distance, I observed the house. No lights, no movement. Either he wasn''t home, or he was being exceptionally cautious. I needed to confirm his location without alerting the Guild to my presence.


    Taking out my phone, Iposed a text message to Emerson:


    "Meet me at the oldboratory. One hour. Come alone or she dies. You know who this is."


    Cryptic enough to demand a response, clear enough to suggest I had leverage. If Emerson received it, he''d either panic and alert Guild security or attempt to handle the situation himself. Either reaction would tell me something useful.


    I was about to send the message when a cold voice spoke directly behind me.


    "Sending a meeting invitation? How thoughtful."


    I spun around, but it was toote. A hand like iron gripped my wrist, immobilizing me with terrifying strength. Before me stood a tall man in purple robes, his face impassive and eyes like chips of ice. Nigel Reyes had found me before I could implement the next phase of my n.


    "Liam Knight," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "The man who refuses to die."


    I tried to jerk away, but his grip was unnaturally strong. My phone screen still disyed the unsent text to Emerson.


    Nigel nced at it with mild interest. "Come downstairs in one hour? It seems that Emerson Holmes has betrayed the Veridia City Martial Guild."


    My heart sank. Not only was I captured, but my message had implicated Emerson as a traitor—an unexpectedplication that could destroy everything.