Damon was mentally strained from the battle. His mana was low, and his shadow energy was even lower. Perhaps this could be considered part of Mist Knight Thren's strategy—to fight Damon and his party only when he was sure they were at their weakest, already exhausted from battling his enthralled mist knights. No matter, Damon was actually stronger when his shadow energy was delepleted. In fact one could say, that was when he was the most monstrous. In the end there was still no denying he was still exhausted. However, Damon was the only one truly depleted. The two girls were still brimming with energy. Mana pulsed through their bodies. There was no sign of weakness, why else would Damon cut lose. He was sure they could cover for him. 'Does he not consider them a threat…?' That would be a grave mistake. Just like Damon, these two girls were monsters in their own right. Yet the enemy before them was no ordinary opponent. He was a rank two mist knight. Damon squinted at the figure, half-shrouded by faint mist. Glowing eyes shone from under his hood—he wore no helm like the others. Still, his body was clad in full plate armor, lighter than standard but unmistakably enchanted. A spear gleamed in his grip, the head embedded with a glowing gem. His gauntlets didn't seem to match the armor. "Thren's magic artifact… the Selfless Gauntlets…" Valarie's voice floated from Damon's shoulder, touched by caution. "He's rank two. I suppose time hasn't been kind. Even after a thousand years… he's still here. Suffering…" she muttered, narrowing her eyes. He stood silent, as if appraising them. "He's buying time—for his undead to overwhelm the others outside…" Sylvia added coldly. Valarie spoke up again. Though now only a pair of lips, she hoped the corrupted knight would remember her voice. He had changed, twisted by corruption, and she wasn't even sure it was still him. But the gear... the gauntlets... they matched. It had to be him. "Thren of the Fifth Order… do you remember my voice?" No response. The glowing eyes under the hood didn't flicker, unmoved by her words. Her lips curled slightly with grief. "He doesn't seem to remember me… then again, he never knew me on a personal level." Damon sighed. Naturally, he hadn't expected it to work. Valarie was a powerful Ascendant a champion of the ancient city. It would be weird if some rank two knight knew here on a personal level. As for how she knew him….Damon did not care enough to ask. He pointed at the knight—a ruined image of his former self. "Isn't it a bit dishonorable? Enslaving your fellow knights to fight your battles…" Coming from Damon, who wasn't exactly honorable himself, the girls weren't sure how to react. Was this the pot calling the kettle black… or something worse? Valarie cut in. "Don't you pride yourself on having no pride? I seem to recall you were impressed by his methods…" 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦 Damon didn't take his eyes off Thren. "I like it better when I'm the one doing the scheming." Sylvia sighed, edging slowly toward Damon's sword lying on the ground. "Right… I remember. He's also a sore loser." Evangeline understood immediately what was happening. Damon was unarmed, and they needed to get his sword back before the knight decided to act. Still, Damon was unnerved. Why wasn't Thren attacking? Was it confidence or something else. He found that doubtful. Sylvia stopped beside the sword. The mist knight's face suddenly snapped in her direction. A wave of mist surged toward her—silent, formless, carrying a deathly intent. But it wasn't fast enough. She kicked the sword toward Damon, dodging the long-range strike with practiced ease. "Sylvia supports us, Evangeline—" He didn't finish the sentence. She was already moving. She charged at the knight, the source of the massive undead army harassing the rest of their party. Evangeline moved like a blur, trailing phantom images in her wake. Her rapier clashed with Thren's spear. The knight didn't even budge. The ground trembled beneath their suffocating impact. Cracks spread through the floor like veins. What little glass remained shattered with a thunderous bang. Damon couldn't help but think of the day he'd first seen Renata and Lilith clash… The mist knight may have been rank two, but Evangeline—though only first class—was a monster herself. She had absorbed the bulk of the mana cores their party had collected. Her physical stats made her a walking catastrophe. No wonder the building was falling apart. Still, the gap in rank wasn't easy to overcome. She was pushed back slightly, even though Thren didn't appear to be the brute strength type. His physique, though… it was still solid. It didn't matter. White glowing arrows soared toward the knight. He raised his hand, conjuring a spell barrier to block the attack. Sylvia had expected that. She didn't aim to kill—she aimed to create an opening. From the ground, a shadow rose—solidifying into Damon, sword in hand, appearing right next to Thren. It should have been over. The blade pierced through the knight's body… yet Damon felt nothing. No resistance. No impact. No armor. No blood. It was like cutting through air. He looked up. The knight's glowing eyes stared back beneath the hood, mocking him. That's when he noticed. This knight had no shadow. It was as if he wasn't even there. Damon's breath caught. "This… this is an illusion," Valarie's voice muttered darkly. "He shifted positions and left an illusion behind at the last second. Yes… I remember now. It's his first class skill. Tricky… but it gets worse…" Evangeline narrowed her eyes. "How worse?" Sylvia stiffened. Her expression tightened, dread crawling across her face. "This worse…" Damon lifted his gaze. In front of them—dozens of identical Threns. Mist-cloaked, indistinguishable from the original. Valarie's lips pressed into a line. "They're all illusions. Only one is real." She didn't need to say the rest. Let your guard down… …and you die.