Flames and Shadows

David's heart raced as he gripped the Amulet, his body fueled by the surge of adrenaline and the effects of his Haste skill. But as he moved to strike Lisa—no, Namaah—he realized too late that he had made a grave mistake. The power gap between them was like that of an ant trying to challenge a lion.

Even though Lisa had been a healer, with low combat stats compared to David's own, the possession had changed everything. Namaah's essence had infused Lisa with a portion of her own power—1/10 of her characteristics transferred directly into Lisa. That meant that Lisa now possessed stats over 100+, far outstripping David's stats. The difference was astronomical.

As David's blade came down, Namaah, with Lisa's body, reacted with terrifying speed and precision. Her hand shot out, and in an instant, black lightning erupted from her fingers, crackling through the air with a ferocious intensity. David's eyes widened in horror as the lightning struck him squarely in the chest.

His magic resistance was minimal at best. From the beginning, David had focused on agility and physical combat, with a few magical attacks as his secondary skill set. But now, under the relentless assault of Namaah's black lightning, his agility was useless. The pain was indescribable—sharp, searing, like thousands of needles piercing every cell in his body.

Nearby, Sarah, barely conscious and weak from her injuries, managed to scream out, "No! Please stop! You got your Amulet!"

Her plea fell on deaf ears. Namaah's smile only widened as she continued to pour her power into the lightning, watching with twisted satisfaction as David writhed in agony. For five excruciating seconds, the lightning crackled through him, sending waves of pain that threatened to tear him apart from the inside out.

And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the lightning stopped. David collapsed to the ground, his body hitting the earth with a dull thud. He lay there, gasping for breath, his muscles twitching uncontrollably from the aftershocks of the attack. It was a miracle he hadn't lost consciousness, but even so, he was in no condition to fight.

Namaah, still in Lisa's body, took slow, deliberate steps toward him, her eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. She knelt beside him, her voice low and mocking. "You're brave, David. I like players like you—no fear, no hesitation." Her tone turned icy. "But it's not enough."

With a casual flick of her wrist, black flames ignited on her fingertips. David could only watch, helpless, as she pressed her fingers to his shoulder. The smell of burning flesh filled his nostrils, and he bit back a scream as she drew a black rose on his skin—a mark of her cruelty, a symbol of the torment she had inflicted.

The pain was almost unbearable, but worse than that was the knowledge that he had failed. He had failed to protect Sarah, failed to stop Namaah, and now he bore the mark of his defeat.

As she finished, Namaah stood, looking down at him with a smirk. "Come to me after you've become stronger, David," she purred. "I'll play with you one more time."

For her, David was nothing more than a toy—an amusement in her twisted game. With that, she turned and walked away, leaving the barrier and vanishing into the night.

David lay on the ground, the black rose burning on his shoulder, the pain and shame overwhelming him. He could still feel the sting of Namaah's power coursing through him, but even worse was the weight of his failure.

The air crackled with raw energy as Marcus faced off against Namaah and her twisted servant, Borah. The battlefield had become a hellscape of destruction, with flames and thunder tearing through everything within a 300-meter radius. Trees were incinerated in seconds, the ground scorched and split open by the sheer force of Marcus's power. Yet, despite his overwhelming strength, Namaah and Borah held their ground.

Borah, the Death Knight, wielded his twin anti-magic blades with deadly precision, deflecting Marcus's powerful spells and creating openings for Namaah to strike back. It was a fierce and relentless exchange, with both sides pushing each other to the limit. Marcus's flames roared like an inferno, and his thunderous attacks echoed like the wrath of a god, but Namaah's dark magic and Borah's relentless defense kept them in the fight.

Marcus couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Why was Namaah, one of the most powerful figures of the Black Temple, so intent on hunting down a group of mere newbies? It didn't add up. The Black Temple had plenty of powerful enemies on the island, and if any of them caught wind of Namaah's movements, they'd surely seize the opportunity to eliminate her. Yet here she was, risking everything for a group of low-level players.

He wanted to stop the fight, to demand answers, but there was no time. Borah's blades cut through the air with deadly precision, forcing Marcus to stay on the defensive. The anti-magic properties of Borah's weapons were a significant threat, nullifying some of Marcus's most potent spells. And Namaah, ever the cunning strategist, used every trick in the book to keep Marcus off balance.

As the battle raged on, Marcus began to consider using one of his precious artifacts—relics of immense power that could tip the scales in his favor. But just as he was about to make his move, something caught his eye. Through the chaos of red and black flames, through the shattered skeletons and crumbling ground, he saw a figure moving toward Namaah.

It was Lisa.

She appeared suddenly, as if summoned by Namaah's will, and Borah quickly moved to her side. The battlefield was a nightmarish scene of destruction, with broken skeletons and the remains of Namaah's dark summons scattered everywhere. Even Borah bore injuries from the intense combat.

Namaah laughed, a sound that cut through the chaos like a blade. "Fighting you was like a breath of fresh air, Marcus," she taunted, her voice laced with mockery. "But it's a shame I lost so many of my precious skeletons and summons."

Marcus's heart sank as he realized what this might mean. For a brief moment, he feared the worst—that David and his group were dead. But then, through the flames and destruction, he saw the barrier still standing, and within it, David and the others, alive. Relief washed over him, but the fight was far from over.

"You black witch," Marcus spat, his voice filled with fury. "Don't be so proud. The Black Temple will be destroyed one day, and I'll be the one to ignite your body."

Namaah's laughter echoed across the battlefield, filled with dark amusement. She had what she came for, and the fight had been nothing more than entertainment for her. "Goodbye, Marcus," she said, her tone almost playful. "Au revoir, mon ami!"

With that, a thick black mist began to swirl around Namaah, Lisa, and Borah, enveloping them in darkness. In an instant, they vanished from Marcus's sight, the mist dissipating as quickly as it had appeared.

Marcus immediately activated his detection skill, scanning the area to ensure they hadn't just gone invisible. Once he was certain they had indeed retreated, he allowed himself to relax, if only slightly. The danger had passed, at least for now.

He turned and made his way back to David's group, his heart heavy with the weight of everything that had transpired. He needed to check on them, to see what had happened during the fight, and to prepare them for the battles that still lay ahead.