Dragon of Endless Evil

Oswald shrugged, displaying an air of false innocence. "Oh nooo... That’s too bad~. Your ex has been poisoned? Sorry to tell you this, but we have nothing to do with that. The Bow Clan acted on its own. We have nothing to do with this story."

But before he could finish his sentence, Daemon leaped on him.

The katana whistled in the air, but Daemon did not strike with the blade. He struck with his fist directly in the face. Oswald’s head snapped back, and he retreated several steps, his nose bleeding.

"What are you -" started Oswald, but Daemon interrupted him with a kick that sent him flying against the wall.

"Son of a bitch!"

Daemon did not stop. He chained a right straight punch, followed by a left hook that would have devastated Oswald’s jaw if the latter had not tilted backward at the last second.

Daemon exploited the opening: his front foot traced a quick arc, a low-kick that slapped against Oswald’s calf, forcing him to bend the knee. A left jab caught him right on the cheekbone, sending out a fine spray of blood, then a spinning kick crashed against his flank, throwing him off balance.

Oswald attempted a counter, his short spear thrusting out in a vicious stab toward Daemon’s throat. But Daemon, with light footwork, dodged with a simple torso tilt. The tip of the spear brushed his torso, tearing the fabric but not the flesh.

He pivoted to the left, the blade passing a hair from his ribs, and in the same movement, his right hand came down in a clean chopping strike on Oswald’s wrist, numbing his fingers.

Then his left fist, loaded with all the weight of his body, sank into his opponent’s sternum, who expelled the air in a groan. A circular kick finished the job, hitting Oswald’s hip and sending him rolling on the ground.

Victoria observed the scene: "Daemon, do not kill him. We need him for the antidote."

"Who do you take me for?" he retorted.

He grabbed Oswald by the collar and lifted him like trash. He delivered a knee strike to the stomach, then threw him several meters away. Oswald landed heavily on his back, his short spear rolling out of reach.

He got up staggering, his bruises making him suffer with every movement. His eyes were misty with pain, but he was still sneering. "You... You have changed, Daemon... You are truly worthy of being the son of Persephone..."

Daemon approached slowly, his katana still in hand. "I warn you, Oswald. The next time you open your mouth, it will not be to speak."

Oswald raised his hands in a sign of surrender. He had understood that he had no chance of winning this fight. Daemon was not only more powerful physically, but his footwork was fluid, his movements unpredictable. Oswald had not managed to land a single blow.

He had just been humiliated.

"Wait!" he shouted. "I will give the antidote!"

Daemon stopped, the katana suspended in the air. He narrowed his eyes, wary. Oswald rummaged in the inner pocket of his tunic and took out a small glass vial then threw it to Daemon, who caught it with an expert hand.

Daemon examined the vial, turning it between his fingers. Then he looked at Victoria. She nodded, her black eyes fixed on the vial.

...

*Thirty minutes earlier*

"I will break the walls of the labyrinth," he said in a determined voice. "I will attract the Daugrs toward the Venom Clan’s base. With the noise and the chaos, they will not have time to think."

"From the look on your face you have a way to break them..."

Victoria sat down in front of him: "It is a good plan to weaken their defenses. But how do you plan to recover the antidote afterward? Oswald can very well give you a fake one."

Daemon shrugged, a mocking smile floating on his lips. "Then I will hit him until he gives the right one."

Victoria shook her head, amused despite herself. "It is not that simple. The best antidote is the blood of a Venom Clan Chi user. Being from a rival clan, I have a lot of knowledge about them. The Venom Clan mainly uses its Chi and modifies its nature to turn it into poison. To not become victims of their own venom, they ingest the most powerful poisons from a very young age. They have developed a natural immunity. Their blood therefore contains all the necessary antibodies."

Daemon narrowed his eyes, thinking. "Since he is the only one at the Second Sense whose poison could be fatal to you, then we just have to take Oswald’s blood."

Victoria nodded, but she raised a finger in warning. "It is more complicated than that. If he uses his Chi, his blood can easily become a powerful poison. If you injure him while he is in an alert state, you risk burning yourself or poisoning yourself."

Daemon scratched the back of his neck. "Then we must make sure he has no Chi left."

Victoria agreed: "Exactly. When that is the case, he will probably try to give us a fake antidote. And that is when you can act."

"Good. So we do it like that."

...

In the present, Oswald had indeed given an antidote to Daemon. Maybe it was a fake or not, they did not care, better to trust his blood.

Daemon had caught the vial with one hand, examined it for a fraction of a second, then raised his eyes toward Victoria. She gave him an imperceptible nod.

In one second, Daemon closed the distance.

Oswald, surprised, instinctively retreated. He took a deep breath, his lungs swelling with tainted air. His eyes lit up with a toxic glow, and his mouth opened to exhale a large quantity of poison.

"Watch out!" shouted Victoria.

But Daemon was already in motion. His right hand closed on Oswald’s face, preventing him from blowing his venom. He pressed with all his strength, and the alchemist’s head hit the ground. The skull bounced on the stone, and Oswald collapsed, unconscious.

Daemon got up, wiping his hand on his tunic. His right hand was smoking slightly, the bandages covering it having melted on contact with the corrosive poison. He examined his arm for a moment.

"You can come collect his blood," he said in a calm voice.

Victoria approached, a knife in hand. She crouched next to Oswald, took his wrist, and made a small incision on the vein. The blood, a deep red, flowed into a small glass vial that she held with the other hand. She filled the container then carefully sealed it.