A sword wrapped with fire erupted from Eamon's hands as he growled, "This bastard's tougher than the last one."
Damien, his best-friend who was also a vampire, landed beside him in a blur of motion, twin blood-red blades forming from thin air. His eyes glowed faintly crimson; fangs visible beneath his snarled lips. "One more Obsidian Seraphs huh," he said, voice low. "And this one's not just tough. He's invincible."
Before them towered a Minotaur. A being with a human's body but a bull's head and a tail. Eight feet of muscle and celestial fury, veins crackling with elemental energy. Water shimmered across his arms, hardened like armor; flames curled from his horns; stone encased his fists; air shimmered like a cloak around him. A true celestial juggernaut, drawn from the deepest shadows of the Light Realm's forgotten corners.
Skarn, Eamon's companion and magical wolf, let out a warning growl. A magic circle appeared above his sleek black head. Silver daggers made of energy formed and spun above him, waiting for a command.
"We stick to the plan," Eamon said, fire licking from his fingertips, coiling around his sword like a serpent ready to strike.
Damien gave a curt nod. "Just don't die on me."
The Minotaur moved with terrifying speed, bull-like head lowering as it charged, hooves cracking the ground and sending tremors rippling outward. Eamon jumped high. Flame were flaring at his feet as he twisted mid-air and brought his blade down, fire-infused steel clashing against a celestial shield of wind.
The impact threw him back. He slammed against a jagged rock, coughing, his ribs aching.
Damien dashed forward, leaving blood-red streaks in the air, his claws extended and glowing. With a snarl, he hurled a hail of blood-forged daggers that spun toward the Minotaur like crimson comets. The creature raised a stone shield just in time, the daggers shattering against it, but cracks formed.
"He can't hold all of them at once," Damien called. "That shield won't last long."
Eamon rose, jaw tight. "Then we break him down, one element at a time."
The Minotaur roared, the sound a mix of thunder and something ancient. A tornado of flame and water erupted around him, forcing them both to retreat. Skarn darted through the chaos, his daggers slicing through the air, deflecting incoming shards of burning stone. One of the projectiles clipped his side, but the wolf kept moving, eyes blazing.
Eamon gritted his teeth. "Skarn, high ground! Damien, flank left!"
Skarn leapt, his body twisting mid-air as more daggers spiraled from the magic circle. Damien vanished in a blur, reappearing behind the Minotaur, his hands charged with condensed blood magic. With a furious scream, he slammed his fists into the Minotaur's back. A crack resounded, but the creature didn't fall. Instead, it spun with an earth-shattering swipe, its fist crashing into Damien, sending him hurtling into a nearby cliff face.
Eamon roared and surged forward, sword ablaze. With a sweeping arc, he carved through the air, fire trailing like a comet's tail. The Minotaur caught the blow on its gauntlet of stone, but the heat scorched flesh, and the armor cracked further.
"That's it," Eamon growled, pressing the attack.
They exchanged blows like titans — flame and celestial fury colliding in a deadly dance. Eamon ducked under a fiery uppercut and stabbed his blade into the Minotaur's side. The creature bellowed and retaliated with a blast of wind that launched Eamon backward.
His back hit the ground hard. Pain exploded in his shoulder.
Damien stumbled back into the fray, blood dripping from his lip, but eyes blazing. "I've got an idea," he said between breaths. "Buy me time."
Eamon stood shakily. "Just don't pass out."
Skarn let out a sharp bark and surged forward again, his magic circle spinning faster. Three daggers flung toward the Minotaur's knees. They struck, forcing the beast to stumble.
Using the opening, Eamon closed the gap. He slid under a swipe, coming up behind the Minotaur, his sword igniting into an inferno. With a fierce shout, he drove it deep into the beast's back.
The Minotaur shrieked, the ground around them cracking as a burst of elemental energy surged outward, throwing everyone back. Damien braced himself behind a blood shield just in time, Skarn leapt clear, but Eamon landed hard on his knees.
The Minotaur turned slowly, fire and wind licking from its eyes, blood trailing from the sword embedded in its back.
Eamon wiped blood from his mouth. "That pissed him off."
Damien stepped forward, holding a shimmering spear formed from crystallized blood. "Exactly what I needed."
He hurled it with all his strength. The spear shot forward, cutting through air and magic, striking the Minotaur in the chest. The beast roared, but the impact forced it down to one knee.
Eamon didn't hesitate. He called his sword back to his hand, the blade flying into his grip. Fire coiled around it like a viper, pulsing with his fury.
He charged.
Each step echoed with the force of his will. Every flame that surrounded him was a promise — a vow forged in pain and purpose.
He leapt into the air.
The Minotaur looked up, celestial magic building.
Time slowed.
Skarn howled.
Damien shouted something he couldn't hear.
And then Eamon brought his sword down in a searing arc.
But the Minotaur countered. A pulse of raw energy erupted from its core, elemental fusion detonating outward.
Eamon was caught mid-strike.
Thrown through fire, light, and chaos.
He crashed into the ground, pain exploding through every nerve.
He couldn't move.
Smoke and dust filled the air.
He heard Skarn's growl.
Damien yelling.
But he was on the edge. Of strength. Of hope.
And then he saw it.
The faint outline of the Minotaur stepping through the haze. Burned. Bloodied. But still standing.
Eamon spat blood, gripping his sword.
He looked at the scar across his palm. The one from the curse. Blackened veins spidering from it, pulsing faintly.
His chest rose and fell with fire and fury.
He clenched his teeth and forced himself up.
The curse tried to weigh him down. It always did. A mark of damnation written into his soul.
But he had made a promise.
To himself. To the memory of his grandfather. To everyone who had suffered because of this curse.
And he wasn't done yet.
He took one painful step forward.
Then another.
"Come on boys. We can't take a nap until this bloody bull is killed"
Skarn appeared at his side, wounded but ready.
Damien, limping, flanked right, "you just don't know when to give up, do you Eamon?".
Eamon gave him a slight smirk.
The Minotaur then raised its arms again. A humongous magic circle appeared in the sky.
The sky above rumbled.
Eamon was ready for another attack. Flames danced along his arms. His sword blazed anew.
And with one last glare at the towering beast before him, Eamon bared his teeth in a half-snarl, half-smile.
"I'm not going to die without lifting this damn curse!"