"They're always funny. You're simply humorless."
"And you?" Elçin asks, eyeing me suspiciously. "What will you be doing?"
"I'm going to create a distraction."
"That sounds ominously vague," Zoran mutters.
"It's meant to. I've been told I have a theatrical flair. Seems a shame to waste it." I grin, feeling the familiar rush of battle-lust surging through my veins. "Now move."
They scatter to their assigned positions, leaving me alone in the center of the battlefield. Around me, the fighting continues unabated, but with the golden light concentrating in the Light Court's command position, our forces are struggling to advance.
I close my eyes, reaching deep into the well of darkness that lives at my core. Shadow magic responds eagerly, hungrily, rushing to the surface like a starved beast scenting prey. I don't fight it—I embrace it, allowing the darkness to consume me completely.
My consciousness expands, stretching across the battlefield in tendrils of pure shadow. I can feel every soldier, sense every heartbeat, taste every drop of spilled blood. The power is intoxicating, addictive in ways that should terrify me but only leaves me craving more.
"Witness what a real monster can do," I whisper, and release the full force of my magic.
Darkness explodes outward in a tsunami of pure destructive force. My shadows, no longer confined to physical form, become a storm that blots out the sun itself. The temperature plummets as night descends in the middle of day, and in that artificial darkness, my power is absolute.
My shadow legions surge forward with renewed vigor, cutting through Light Court defenses.
The golden light at the Light Court's command position flickers, struggling against the overwhelming darkness. Perfect.
Through my expanded consciousness, I sense Banu slipping through their lines, a whisper of movement they never detect. Behind her, Emir leads his strike force, positioning for the kill.
With a roar that shakes the very ground, I hurl my gathered shadows directly at the golden light. The collision is catastrophic—darkness and light annihilating each other in an explosion that sends shock waves rippling across the valley. Soldiers from both sides are thrown like rag dolls, armor crumpling under forces no mortal was meant to withstand.
In the moment of chaos that follows, Emir strikes.
I feel savage satisfaction as he and his elite guard crash into the heart of the Light Court's defenses, catching them completely unprepared. Banu moves like a vengeful spirit, her daggers finding throats and hearts with deadly aim.
The golden light falters, dims, and then extinguishes entirely.
"Now!" I command, pulling my shadows back into physical form and charging toward the breach Emir created.
The Light Court's defensive line collapses like a house of cards. Without their magical protection, they are simply men—frightened, exhausted men facing the full might of the Shadow Court.
I carve a path through their ranks, my shadow-blades singing with each life they claim. Blood sprays across my face, hot and metallic, feeding the darkness within me. Each death makes my shadows stronger, more eager, more ravenous.
Through the chaos, I spot one of the senior Light Court commanders—his white beard stained crimson with blood. He is surrounded by what remains of his personal guard, desperately trying to maintain a defensive formation.
Our eyes meet across the battlefield, and I see the moment he accepts defeat. With a gesture, he orders his remaining forces to fall back, abandoning the field.
"Oh no you don't," I snarl, shadows launching from my fingertips like spears.
They tear through two retreating soldiers before Emir appears at my side, bloodied but triumphant.
"My lord, we've secured their command position," he reports. "The mage casting that light spell is dead."
"And their commanders?" I demand, never taking my eyes off the retreating figures.
"Escaping with what's left of their personal guard." Emir points to where Light Court soldiers are forming a desperate rear-guard action. "They're buying time for retreat."
"Not for long." I start forward, but Emir catches my arm.
"My lord, our forces are exhausted. We've won the field. Pursuing them now would stretch our lines dangerously thin."
I know he's right, but the predator in me howls for completion. "We can't let them regroup."
