Return From Damnation

BATTLE OF SHADOW AND BLOOD

In a classroom, a frail and wimpy boy stood nervously in front of the classroom, clutching his assignment tightly in his hands. His ears, slightly elongated at the tips, added a unique shape to his appearance. As he began to present his work, a wave of laughter erupted from the students, causing his heart to sink.

The laughter was not about his assignment but about his ears, with the students teasingly calling him an elf. The boy's face turned crimson as the words pierced through his fragile confidence. He desperately wished to be seen beyond his physical attributes and acknowledged for his abilities and ideas. But the laughter echoed, drowning his voice and mocking his vulnerability.

The teacher, recognizing the hurtful situation unfolding, tried to intervene and bring order to the classroom. However, her attempts fell on deaf ears as the laughter persisted, showing no sign of abating. The boy felt a mix of disappointment and anger welling up inside him.

'Why do these humans keep calling me an elf?' he silently questioned, his hurt turning into frustration. ,'Is it a crime to be a Namek?' The boy's mind wandered, imagining a world where he could transform into a demon. In that fantasy, his ears would have appeared normal, devoid of the peculiar shape that earned him ridicule. The unfairness of his reality began to weigh heavily upon him, filling his thoughts with bitterness.

'Too bad Nameks can't take the human form without their ears having this weird shape,' he lamented inwardly, feeling trapped by his own identity. The weight of societal judgment bore down on his fragile spirit, leaving him questioning his place in the world. The laughter continued to echo, amplifying his feelings of isolation and despair.

Unable to bear the humiliation any longer, the boy's frustration reached its boiling point. With a mix of anger and sadness, he tightly clenched his books and, with a swift motion, threw them to the ground. The resounding crash reverberated through the silent classroom, momentarily silencing the laughter. Determined not to subject himself to further scorn, he turned and swiftly made his way out of the class, his footsteps resolute but heavy with disappointment.

As he walked away, the laughter behind him seemed to amplify, echoing in his ears and etching painful memories deep within his heart. Tears welled up in his eyes, a mix of anger, frustration, and sadness overwhelming his young soul.

.….

Rowan was currently standing opposite Jean Aubert, his brain calculating every step he was to take. He understood the gravity of the situation and the need to approach the battle with caution and strategy. He knew that an impulsive move could cost him dearly against an opponent who commanded the very essence of life running through their veins.

Jean called out to his guards, ordering them to stand back and let him handle the intruder alone. Jean sent his hand forward and controlled the blood of the dead guards, directing it around his body. It hovered around him like a protective barrier, ready to be used at any moment.

"Are you ready?" Jean taunted, his voice dripping with arrogance.

Rowan raised an incredulous eyebrow, challenging the audacity of Jean's question. "Seriously?" he retorted, a mixture of amusement and determination coloring his voice.

"Alright then," Jean sneered, a sadistic humor mixed in his words. "It will be quite entertaining to witness the God of Death meet his own demise."

In response, Jean swiftly manipulated the swirling blood around him, skillfully shaping it into small, razor-sharp blades. Like a hail of bullets from an AK-47, he launched the lethal projectiles towards Rowan.

Reacting swiftly, Rowan utilized his shadow manipulation abilities to create a solid shield, protecting himself from the onslaught. As the blades clashed against the shadow shield, a symphony of clinks and clashes filled the air.

However, as Rowan lowered his shield, he was met with a startling sight. A cannonball made entirely of blood wss flying towards him. With swift precision, he summoned his shadow slicer, using it to slice the cannonball cleanly in two, dispersing the solid projectile into harmless liquid droplets.

But the battle proved to be a hard one for Rowan as it progressed. Jean's relentless onslaught and mastery over blood manipulation kept him on edge. Rowan knew he had to find a weak point if he was to have any chance of victory.

' There is no one without a weak point. Shadow powers have light as a weakness. But blood…' Rowan racked his brains.

Suddenly, a realization struck him like a bolt of lightning. Jean relied on his hands as the conduits for his blood control. With that newfound knowledge, Rowan devised a plan in the midst of the chaotic clash.

He focused his attention on Jean's hands, determined to sever the connection between the blood manipulator and his deadly arsenal. Gathering his inner strength, Rowan channeled his shadow powers, shaping them into razor-sharp slicers.

' I must say you are truly exceptional, I can't believe I have never thought of this.' Invidiak complemented Rowan.

But before directly attacking Jean's hands, Rowan unleashed an additional tactic. He spread his immense shadow across the floor of the grand mansion, enveloping the surroundings in darkness. As the shadow extended, it hindered Jean's movements, slowing him down and restricting his freedom of maneuver.

With Jean momentarily slowed, Rowan seized the opportunity. His shadow slicers moved with a swift, deadly precision, lashing out at Jean's hands. Slice after slice, he aimed to sever the very source of Jean's blood manipulation.

The atmosphere crackled with intensity as Rowan's shadow slicers danced through the air, their lethal intent finding its mark. Jean cried out in pain as his hands were mercilessly cleaved by the shadow blades, severing his connection with the pulsating blood tendrils.

Yet, even in his injured state, Jean did not falter. His face contorted with fury and desperation. In a final, reckless move, he summoned every ounce of remaining blood energy and unleashed it with explosive force.

Rowan, caught off guard, found himself engulfed within Jean's blood ropes. They wrapped around him with gripping strength, threatening to crush his very being. Somehow, Jean could still control blood without his hands. The situation was dire, but Rowan was not one to yield easily.

Gathering the shadows around him, he ignited them with a blazing intensity. The shadows of darkness coiled around the encroaching blood ropes, fighting against their suffocating grip.

At this moment, Jean's guards were pondering if they should interfere or not. However, they obeyed their master's order and stayed out of the fight.

A battle of opposing forces ensued, the clash between blood and shadow veiling the room. The struggle was fierce, energy crackling in the air. With every passing moment, Rowan was getting tied up even tighter. His shadow powers were a little bit weak as compared to the blood ropes.

Seems like Jean had put in everything in this attack to make that rope sturdy. Even the shadow slicer was proving useless cutting through. Even as Rowan gathered all the shadow he had spread on the ground to counter the blood ropes, it was useless. At this point, Rowan was already starting to feel every air in him being squeezed out.

Jean saw Rowan's struggle and it amused him. As blood was coming down from his severed arms, he shaped the blood to look like new hands, then he pointed his fingers towards Rowan.

" This is gonna hurt." Jean said before firing off his finger like a bullet. Just then, a new finger grew back.

The finger had gone through Rowan's knee cap, causing him to go down on one knee. His blood started dropping out and Jean controlled the blood to contribute to the sturdiness of the blood rope.

Rowan knew he needed to think of a way of that situation, however, his brain felt empty.

' Rowan, you need more shadows, can you move your hands?' Invidiak asked.

Rowan tried to move his hands. ' yes I can.'

' How good are your shooting skills?' Invidiak asked.

' Well, for a retired thief, I'll say not bad.' Rowan replied.

' Now, try to reach for your gun.' Invidiak said.

Jean saw Rowan trying to reach for his gun, he could have easily stopped it, but he let it happen. Rowan took the gun and pointed it towards him. Jean couldn't help but laugh out loud. " What, are you trying to shoot me? Come on, we both know that it takes more than bullets to kill us." Jean bragged.

However, Rowan went ahead to shoot. Two bang sounds were heard, one after the other. Jean still stood there, his facial expression showing pride and confusion.

" You missed." He said.

However, when he saw Rowan smiling, realization hit him. Rowan had shot a lit lamp which made the area grow darker. Though the chandelier above was still lightning, the little darkness was enough material for Rowan to increase his shadow powers.

He used the shadow to create a harder shadow slicer and he was able to break free from the ropes. He spread his shadow all over the floor, then in the blink of an eye, he sunk in the ground and rose up behind Jean.

Jean turned around as quickly as he could, however, he was greeted with shadow ropes. Rowan sliced off the hands and it fell, sinking into the shadow. Rowan made sure he covered every drop of blood with his shadow, including Jean's bleeding arm.

" Now I got you. It would have been better if you never chose to fight." Rowan said with a big grin.

Jean tried to move his body, but the fact that he had no hands was making it difficult. " What are you all doing, just standing there? Get him!" Jean ordered his guards.