Theodric's back was turned. He walked towards the exit of the Void Arena, the simple longsword held loosely at his side, his posture radiating a chilling calm after the storm of violence. The silence was thick, broken only by Karnazul's pained groans and the crackle of dying embers where his fire magic had scorched the obsidian. Donarstraza stood frozen, her mind a whirlwind of conflicting impulses.
He can't leave! Elina's panicked voice screamed internally. The quest! The interrogation! 68 hours! The crimson notification burned in her mental vision: [Interrogation of the Intruder - Objective 1: Personally interrogate the prisoner within 72 hours]. The timer felt like a physical weight crushing her chest. Theodric vanishing meant failure. Failure meant losing vital intelligence about Aethelgard. Failure meant potential Charisma fluctuation – that terrifying, unstable "???". And beneath it all, a traitorous, inconvenient thrum of… something else… sparked by those defiant yellow eyes and the sheer, unexpected power he'd just displayed. He's a Dragon Knight! Guardian of a Princess! Rider of Taimat! Scheiße!
She opened her mouth, a command to halt him forming on her lips. But what authority could she wield now? He'd invoked their rites, won his freedom fairly, and walked away from her beaten general. Demanding he stay would look weak, desperate. Like the Level 4 fraud she still felt like inside. Her golden eyes flicked to Karnazul, struggling to rise, ash-grey skin bruised, ribs likely cracked, humiliation radiating off him in waves through the Primordial Resonance. Pathetic. Jealous idiot started this!
Before she could force sound past her throat, before Theodric reached the shadowed archway leading out, Karnazul moved.
It wasn't a roar of challenge. It was a guttural snarl of pure, venomous rage and wounded pride. He pushed himself up onto one elbow, his crimson eyes burning not at Theodric's retreating back, but at Donarstraza for a split second – a look of feral possessiveness and shame. Then his gaze snapped back to the knight. His uninjured hand, the one not clutching his ribs, shot out. Not towards a weapon, but fingers curling into a complex, jagged sigil drawn in the air with trails of dark smoke.
"Umbral Offer!" Karnazul's voice cracked, raw with pain and fury.
Theodric, sensing the surge of malignant power, started to turn, his hand instinctively reaching for the seemingly empty space at his waist where the Lord of the East resided.
He was too slow.
A blade of pure, condensed shadow, sharper than any physical steel, materialized instantly. It wasn't aimed at Theodric's heart or head. It slashed horizontally, faster than thought, aimed precisely at his left wrist.
SCHLICK!
The sound was horrifyingly wet, final. Theodric's left hand, severed cleanly at the wrist, tumbled to the obsidian floor with a sickening thud. Blood, shockingly crimson against the black stone, fountained from the stump. Theodric didn't scream. He gasped, a strangled sound of utter shock and agony, staggering back, his yellow eyes wide with disbelief and sudden, overwhelming pain. He clamped his right hand over the spurting stump, face draining of color.
Before the severed hand even stopped twitching, Karnazul unleashed his fire. But it wasn't the roaring orange inferno of the duel. This was cold, hungry black flame. It erupted from his outstretched palm, engulfing the severed hand on the floor. The black fire didn't just burn; it consumed. It ate the flesh, the bone, with unnatural speed, leaving not ash, but a swirling vortex of dark smoke and crimson embers that pulsed with Karnazul's stolen life force. The air filled with the nauseating stench of burnt meat and ozone.
The swirling vortex of smoke and embers shot towards Theodric, enveloping him before he could react. It didn't burn him. It sank into him, through his skin, his armor, flooding his veins with chilling darkness. He stiffened, a choked gasp escaping him. His eyes, wide with pain and fury, rolled back slightly. His legs buckled. He crashed to his knees, then slumped forward onto his side, unconscious before he hit the ground. His breathing became shallow, labored. The bleeding from his stump slowed to an ooze, seemingly cauterized and bound by the dark magic.
[WARNING: Umbral Offer Detected!]
[Target: Theodric - Status: Soul-Bound Stasis]
[Duration: 48 Hours]
[Effects: Complete Physical Paralysis. Sensory Deprivation (Partial). Speech Possible. Mana Suppression (Total).]
[Source: Karnazul - Significant Mana Expenditure Detected.]
Donarstraza stared, horrified. The brutality, the suddenness, the sheer viciousness of it stole her breath. Karnazul hadn't just attacked; he'd mutilated, sacrificed, and imprisoned. Theodric lay utterly still, a broken doll, the only sign of life his shallow breaths. The Void Arena was utterly silent now, the demon spectators frozen in terror. Karnazul slumped back, panting heavily, sweat mixing with the blood on his face, the black fire guttering out around his hand. He looked exhausted, ravaged by pain and the cost of the dark spell, but his crimson eyes glowed with a terrible, satisfied fury.
He tried to push himself up fully, wincing. His gaze fell on the simple longsword lying near Theodric's prone form. With a grunt of effort, he crawled towards it, his movements labored. He reached out, fingers closing around the hilt. He tried to lift it… and his arm crashed straight down, the sword's tip hitting the obsidian with a heavy clang. Karnazul stared at his own hand, then at the sword, pure confusion warring with pain on his face. It was like trying to lift a mountain. He strained, muscles bulging in his ash-grey arm, but the blade barely budged. What kind of human steel…?
His eyes then slid to Theodric's waist. Where the Lord of the East *should* have been sheathed, visible only as a slight distortion in the air when not summoned. Karnazul's expression hardened with suspicion and greed. He reached out, his good hand grasping towards the seemingly empty space.
His fingers touched… something. Cold. Solid. Impossibly dense. He gripped, trying to pull the invisible weapon free.
His entire arm, shoulder, and torso were violently yanked downwards. CRUNCH-THUD! Karnazul's face slammed into the obsidian floor beside Theodric's unconscious body. A pained gasp tore from him. He lay there, dazed, nose likely broken, his hand still desperately clutching the nothingness at Theodric's waist, unable to lift it even a millimeter, the sheer, impossible weight pinning his arm.
Donarstraza finally found her voice, a mixture of shock, revulsion, and a desperate need to regain control. "Karnazul!" The command cracked through the silence like a whip. "What… what have you done?"
Karnazul turned his head, blood streaming from his nose, pain and defiance warring in his molten eyes. "Secured… your distraction… My Liege," he rasped, his voice thick with blood and exhaustion. "He is… contained. As… you wished." He grimaced, trying futilely to free his pinned arm from the invisible, crushing weight of the Lord of the East. "Now… perhaps… some… assistance?"