Elias's form flickered in and out of sight as he employed [Bladewalk], this allowed him to traverse the throne room with blinding speed. His movements were like a dance, each step deliberate, each strike poised. He weaved through the space with the grace as his silhouette blurred and reforming as he closed in on Acedia, the demon king of sloth who had taken possession of King Alaric's body.
The throne room bore the scars of their battle—crumbling pillars, shattered glass, and scorch marks that marred the grand room.
Acedia's eyes followed Elias with a mixture of annoyance and disinterest, his expression one of perpetual boredom. His lip curled in a lazy snarl as he watched the mage close the distance. In his hand, Acedia held the delicate poison sac, it was filled with a virulent toxin potent enough to bring down an army.
With a casual squeeze, he crushed the sac, releasing the toxic fumes into the air. The poison spread rapidly, a thick, dark mist that snaked its way through the room, consuming everything in its path.
Elias didn't hesitate. He plunged into the heart of the poison cloud without a second thought, his movements unfaltering. The toxins swirled around him, a deadly miasma that would have brought a lesser man to his knees, but Elias moved as if he
were untouched by the poisonous fog.
[You are immune! The blessing of the goddess of fate is active]
The demon king's tainted magic, though potent, had no effect on him.
To any ordinary observer, it would have appeared as if Elias's sword had vanished from mid-air and reappeared in his palm, but to Acedia, it was a disorienting display of mastery. The demon king's eyes widened in shock, his body frozen for the briefest of moments as he tried to process what had just occurred.
Seizing the opportunity, Elias drove the blade forward with all his strength, plunging it deep into Acedia's chest. The sword pierced through flesh and bone, its tip erupting from the demon king's back in a spray of dark, corrupted blood. Acedia let out a guttural grunt, his body jerking as the blade sank into his heart.
His hands flailed dramatically, his form convulsing as if in great pain. He screamed, a terrible, piercing wail that echoed through the throne room, his cries filled with a mix of rage and pain.
But then, just as abruptly, Acedia stopped. His body stilled, and the wild thrashing gave way to a mocking, almost bored chuckle. He glanced down at the sword protruding from his chest, his expression one of mild irritation rather than agony.
"You really thought that would work?" Acedia sneered, his voice a low, gravelly hiss. "I am a demon, Elias—a demon king, no less. A stab through the heart is a lesser's weakness, not ours. Your blade means nothing to me, except that you've just ended the life of poor King Alaric. Congratulations, fool. You've killed the king, but you've done nothing to me."
Acedia turned to face Elias, the sword still embedded in his chest. The blade tore through King Alaric's possessed body effortlessly, the sound of ripping flesh and cracking bone echoing like a grim symphony.
Acedia's gaze was cold and unfeeling, the malice in his eyes intensified by the knowledge that he had survived Elias's most lethal strike. The demon king gripped the sword tightly, his claws digging into the hilt as he pulled the blade free from his chest. Blood oozed from the wound, staining his robes, but Acedia seemed unbothered by the damage.
With a slow, deliberate motion, he tossed the sword aside, letting it clatter uselessly to the floor.