Onwards

"Didn't expect 'em to show their faces so quickly," Blake muttered under his breath, raising his nimble sword with a fluid motion. The blade gleamed menacingly in the dim light, its sharp edge reflecting a steely resolve that mirrored Blake's own. He narrowed his eyes at the woman, his intent clear as he prepared to end her threat once and for all.

"Wait!" she cried out, desperation seeping into her voice. "I swear I'm not—"

"Save it," he snapped, his tone dripping with contempt. His focus was solely on the shadows, anticipating the arrival of his enemies. Every muscle in his body tensed, his senses sharpening to an almost superhuman degree.

And then they came.

In a blink, an ascendant materialized before him, blocking his path. Almost simultaneously, two more appeared behind him, their presence announcing itself with a chilling gust of wind. They had been waiting, biding their time, and now they had sprung their cruel ambush.

"Three against one?" Blake spat, his grip tightening around the hilt of his sword. "Not exactly fair odds, is it?"

"Fairness has no place in our world, little insect," the first ascendant sneered, his voice cold and detached. He was tall and imposing, clad in dark armor that seemed to meld with the shadows themselves. The other two, both equally fearsome, drew their weapons and began to circle him like hungry wolves.

"Fine by me," Blake retorted, his mind racing as he tried to formulate a strategy. He couldn't afford to waste energy on false bravado; he needed to be calculating, precise. His life depended on it. "Just remember, you're the ones who chose this fight."

As the ascendants closed in on him, Blake's thoughts were a chaotic whirlwind of strategy and desperation, mingling with anger and fear. The odds were stacked against him, but he refused to go down without a fight.

"Bring it on," he growled, and the battle began."

"Four," corrected a dissonant voice from the shadows. As if on cue, the orchestrator of the ambush stepped forward, grinning wickedly. Her eyes gleamed with dark intent, and her hands crackled with lethal energy.

The clash of swords rang out through the abandoned streets, steel singing against steel as sparks flew like fireflies in the night. Blake danced between his adversaries, nimble and agile, moving with a lethal grace that belied his exhaustion. Each parry and thrust was calculated, each feint and dodge a desperate bid to stay alive.

"Is that all you've got?" Blake taunted, ducking beneath the arc of an enemy blade. He lashed out with his sword in response, the edge biting deep into the ascendant's exposed flesh. Blood sprayed like a grotesque fountain, but Blake had no time to revel in the momentary victory.

"Kill him!" screeched the woman who had set the trap, her eyes blazing with fury. "Rip him apart!"

"Eagerly done," hissed one of the other ascendants, lunging at Blake with renewed vigor. The air crackled with power as the combatants summoned their energies, the world around them warping and distorting under the weight of their might.

"Pathetic," Blake spat, spinning through a barrage of ice shards that shattered against the cobblestones. His sword sliced through the air, cleaving through an oncoming bolt of shadow energy with uncanny precision. He could feel himself reaching the limits of his strength, but he refused to let it show. Fear was a weakness he couldn't afford.

"Such arrogance!" snarled the first ascendant, leaping forward with a roar. His dark blade swung down like a guillotine, threatening to end Blake's life in a single, brutal stroke. But Blake was quicker, sidestepping the attack and driving his sword into the enemy's side with a vicious twist. The resulting scream was music to his ears.

"Your turn," he growled, locking eyes with the remaining pair. They hesitated for a fraction of a second, and that was all Blake needed.

"Face me!" he roared, charging headlong into the fray. His movements were fluid and relentless, the sword in his hand more an extension of his will than a mere weapon. It cut a bloody path through the night, painting the streets crimson as it claimed its gruesome toll.

"Die!" screamed the woman, unleashing a torrent of ice and shadows that threatened to engulf Blake completely. But he was ready, his sword raised to meet the onslaught.

"Never, onwards is the only way" he whispered, and with a final surge of power, he shattered the encroaching darkness, leaving nothing but silence in its wake.