The Villain Professor's Second Chance

Aurelia and Anastasia, though they must have sensed my distress, showed no signs of hesitation. They had their own battles to fight, and they couldn't afford to worry about me. I wouldn't let them. Aurelia was locked in combat with the fire demon, her golden flames flickering like a dying star.

Anastasia's dark flames wrapped around the shadow demon, holding it at bay, but I knew they couldn't last much longer. The strain on them was visible in every movement, every heavy breath.

I gritted my teeth, tightening my grip on my sword with my right hand. My left arm hung useless at my side, the decay spreading slowly but surely. This had to be my final move. I could feel the weight of it—the last attack before my body gave out completely. I had to make it count.

These demons weren't mindless monsters; that much was clear. They moved with a calculated precision, coordinating their attacks, exploiting every weakness they found. But that was their downfall. Their intelligence, their strategy, it made them predictable. They believed they could outsmart us, and that belief would be their undoing.

My eyes met Lyan's across the battlefield. We didn't need words. In that single glance, I knew he understood. For all our bickering, all the tension between us, there was a foundation of trust. We didn't like each other, but we knew how to work together when it mattered.

Lyan gave a slight nod, and I returned it. His illusions were already in place, swirling around the battlefield like phantoms. The demons couldn't tell what was real and what was fake, and that was exactly what we needed. I just needed the opening.

Aurelia, though exhausted and covered in blood, wasn't finished yet. She was a force of nature, and no demon stood a chance against her when she was pushed to her limits. I watched as she closed her eyes for a brief moment, summoning a deeper power from within. Her fiery red hair flared like a blaze, her entire body radiating heat.

When her eyes snapped open, they were glowing with a light so intense it made the entire battlefield pause. She raised her hands, golden flames swirling around her in a vortex of fire. Her lips moved in a chant, the ancient words of magic slipping through the air like silk.

The ground beneath her feet trembled as the flames concentrated into a single point, gathering into a beam of pure, incandescent energy.

"Bastard," she muttered under her breath, though I knew it wasn't directed at anyone in particular. It was just how she expressed herself in moments like these—raw, powerful, and unstoppable.

With a shout, she unleashed the beam. It cut through the battlefield like a sword, slamming into the remaining demons with a force that shook the earth. The fire demon shrieked, its body engulfed in the flames, while the shadow demon recoiled, momentarily blinded by the brilliance of the attack.

The opening I needed.

I didn't hesitate. My mind was already calculating, analyzing the movements of the demons. The fire demon was crippled, its power waning, and Anastasia had the shadow demon pinned in place. This was my moment.

Anastasia's flames, a mix of gold and black, surrounded the fire demon, preventing it from regenerating its power. Her control was precise, exact, and I knew she was holding back just enough to let me land the final blow. But the shadow demon, ever elusive, slipped through the darkness, its form flickering in and out of sight.

That's where Lyan came in. His illusions danced around the battlefield, blending with Anastasia's flames in a way that confused even the shadow demon. It hesitated, unsure of where to strike, and that was the moment Anastasia needed. Her flames coiled around the demon, immobilizing it.

I moved quickly, my left arm useless but my sword still steady in my right hand. I could feel the energy coursing through the blade, dark magic intertwining with my own power. The demon's core was exposed, shimmering faintly beneath its shadowy form. Your journey continues at empire

With a final burst of strength, I lunged forward. My blade cut through the air, sharp and precise, sinking deep into the demon's chest. The impact sent a shockwave through my body, but I didn't falter. The blade struck true, shattering the demon's core with a violent crack. The creature let out a final, guttural scream before collapsing into ash, its form disintegrating before my eyes.

I stepped back, panting, my arm hanging limply at my side. The pain from the decay was unbearable now, but I couldn't show it. Not yet. The battle wasn't over, but the worst of it was.

The fire demon fell next, its body consumed by Anastasia's flames, and soon the battlefield was quiet. The air was thick with the scent of burnt flesh and magic, and the ground was scorched, but we were still standing. Barely.

I looked toward the altar. It still pulsed with dark energy, the runes carved into its surface glowing faintly. We had won the battle, but the real danger was still ahead.

Then I felt it.

A sharp, cracking pain shot through my body, radiating from my decayed arm. I looked down and saw it—my skin, crumbling like powder, bits of ash flaking away with every movement. The decay was spreading faster than I had anticipated. I had thought I could push through it, that I could stop it in time, but I was wrong.

I should have severed the arm earlier. I should have let Aurelia's flames burn away the rot before it spread. Now…now it might be too late.

"Draven!" Aurelia's voice cut through the haze of pain, sharp and panicked. She was rushing toward me, her eyes wide with something I rarely saw in her—fear. Her fiery red hair, usually wild and untamed, was plastered to her face with sweat, and her golden flames had dimmed to a soft glow.

She never looked like this. Not Aurelia. She was always in control, always fierce, never showing weakness. But now, her eyes were filled with a panic that I had never seen before.

"Bastard, don't you dare die on me!" she shouted, her voice cracking at the edges.

I tried to smirk, though the pain was almost overwhelming now. My body felt like it was disintegrating, turning to ash with every breath I took. But I wouldn't let it end like this.

"No need to be so worried, your majesty," I muttered, my voice barely a whisper. The words were cold, calculated, the way I always spoke. Even now, in the face of death, I couldn't afford to let emotion slip through. Not yet.

The world around me blurred, but I could still see her face—the fierce determination, the fear buried deep behind her eyes. She was scared for me, of all people.

But there was no time for fear. We had won the battle, but the war was far from over. The altar still stood, and Tiamat's shadow loomed ever closer.

There was still work to be done.

Crack!

But I guess this is as far as I go.