Ashes of the people who once walked the streets of Enora now blew in the wind. Eamon and the Great Eye stood six yards apart, staring each other in the eyes with murderous intent. Eamon clinched his blade hilt, and it made a sound like rubber. The Great Eye smiled like a gigglemut. The wind and ash whipped through Eamon’s white hair.

  Eamon made micro-movements with his legs, shifting back slightly before shooting forward like an arrow, his blade thrust straight ahead. The Great Eye gave a small chuckle as he touched the air, freezing Eamon mid-charge. Eamon’s eyes widened as he stared at the Great Eye, who walked toward him.

  “Is that the best you can do, you cumberworld?” the Great Eye said, his voice mocking as he gazed at Eamon. But Eamon followed him with his eyes. Slowly, Eamon began to move his arm. The Great Eye looked at him with confusion.

  “How is that possible? Who are you?”

  Even though he was frozen in time, Eamon’s will to save Haul’s dream was enough to counterattack. Slowly, a smile spread across his face as he looked at the Great Eye, and he said deliberately, “I’m a demon.”

  Eamon zipped forward, breaking free from the Great Eye’s time manipulation. He slid across the road and stood behind the Great Eye.

  “I’m going to send you back to where you came from, you vile beast.”

  The Great Eye turned. “Is that so? Then come on. Show me—show me why they call you a demon. Show me, Eamon Whitfield!”

  Eamon pointed his sword forward, then whipped it to his side. He thought to himself, “Don’t worry, my Darley. I will come home soon. I can’t wait to see our sweet baby boy’s face. But for now, I need to save the people of this kingdom. For a man of great honor trusts me with his life. But if I don’t make it home… don’t cry for me. Just lay me to rest at the blossom tree near the creek.”

  Eamon charged toward the Great Eye with intensity, sending a flurry of fast attacks, but each one was effortlessly deflected.

  “Your attacks are weak. I don’t see this demon they speak of. Was it all for naught?”

  The Great Eye whipped his head to the side, sending Eamon crashing into a nearby building. Eamon lay in the ruins as shards of glass pierced his skin. The Great Eye lifted his hand, making a sweeping motion that lifted Eamon and sent him crashing into another building—a shop filled with weapons. Eamon hung in the air as a spike impaled his stomach. Blood dripped down as his gaze drifted to the ground, his mind wandering to a time when Haul and he had spoken.

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  It was midday in the king’s chambers.

  “My lord, what was life like before you became king?” Eamon asked.

  Haul smiled warmly. “It was hard and rugged. I was a blacksmith for House Duskreach, and every day I would look at the king’s castle and imagine myself living there, as king.”

  Eamon nodded and smiled.

  “I see, my lord.”

  Haul placed a hand on Eamon’s shoulder. “There will come a time of great tribulation in this kingdom. I just hope when that time comes, I’ll know what to do.” He pointed downward. “You see down there, all those people living their lives with smiles and laughter? That, Eamon, is why I rule—to ensure the safety of the people. I serve them; they do not serve me. And if I cannot defend them, what type of king am I?”

  Eamon looked down at the people below. He watched as they laughed and played, the women jesting, the men smiling, carefree. He remembered Haul’s words and his purpose.

  With resolve, Eamon ripped the spike from his stomach and slowly turned. A hole large enough to see through didn’t bother him. He picked up his sword and stepped from the rubble.

  “You want to see this demon? Fine. I’ll show you. Even if I die today, I’ll die with this kingdom safe from harm.”

  Eamon picked up a spear lying on the ground, holding both weapons in one hand. He charged with such speed that not even the Great Eye could see him, slamming into him and sending them crashing through multiple buildings.

  Eamon stood amidst the gaping holes of the ruins, looking at the Great Eye groaning in defeat.

  “What was that move? How did he move so fast?” The Great Eye’s eyes widened as it clicked. “No… him… he somehow learned the move that has no name. How is that possible? Only a Blackmoor can learn that—and he is no Blackmoor.”

  Horror etched across the Great Eye’s face. Eamon exuded a dark aura.

  “He is a demon.”

  Then Eamon disappeared, reappearing behind the Great Eye, who looked upward slowly, horror pouring from his eyes.

  “You reap what you sow,” Eamon said, grabbing the Great Eye and flinging him across the kingdom. The Great Eye skidded across the stone streets, ripping them up and forming a massive crater.

  “I’m a god, and he is just a man. He is no match for me!” The Great Eye sprang up, reaching out his hands. “I refuse to let a mortal kill a god. You are nothing to me… a sack of blood and guts. That’s all I control… all I am.”

  He sent a black beam straight at Eamon. Eamon reflected it with his blade. The Great Eye, summoning all his power, made the beam stronger as he approached. When he reached Eamon, he cut off the beam, grabbed Eamon’s face, and slammed him into the ground.

  “You fucking bug.”

  Eamon grinned, kicking the Great Eye’s shin and forcing him to the ground. Rolling over him, Eamon lifted his sword high.

  “Be gone.”

  He drove his blade into the back of the Great Eye, killing him. Eamon breathed fast, looking at the castle with a smile.

  “I did it, my lord.”

  He stood and walked forward, only to fall as the shock of his wounds surged through him. Blood poured from his body, and as he teetered on the edge of unconsciousness, darkness took over.

  But then… he saw the Great Eye stand, transformed. Two massive horns protruded from its head, its eyes crimson red, blood streaming black from them. Eamon tried to rise, but his body wouldn’t respond. His vision went black once more.