Arthur stood his ground, sword held at the ready, waiting for the monster to make its move. The creature fixed him with a disgusting glare of pure hatred, its luminous yellow eyes narrowing to slits as it assessed its prey. Then, without warning, it let out an ear-splitting screech that seemed to vibrate the very air and launched itself skyward.
The monster moved with terrifying speed, circling overhead like a shadow given life. Arthur tried to track its movements, his neck craning as he pivoted in place, but the beast was too fast—a dark blur against the star-strewn sky, impossible to follow with sight alone.
Without warning, the creature would dive, talons extended, aiming for Arthur's flesh. Each time, he would barely manage to raise his odachi in time, the impact of the monster's claws against steel sending jarring vibrations up his arms. Each attack came from a different angle, each defense more desperate than the last.
'I can't keep doing this,' Arthur realized, his breath coming in ragged gasps as sweat beaded on his forehead despite the cool night air. 'It's going to catch me before I can block sooner or later.'
After two more narrow escapes—one talon grazing his shoulder and drawing a thin line of blood—an idea dawned on Arthur. It was crazy, possibly suicidal, but if he didn't try something new, his death was certain anyway.
Arthur tightened his grip on his sword hilt, knuckles whitening with pressure. Then, contrary to every instinct screaming at him to keep his eyes on the threat, he closed them tightly and released a deep breath. He cleared his mind of fear, of the roses, of everything except that strange sense he'd been experiencing since nightfall.
'I don't understand it yet, but it's my only hope,' he thought, focusing his entire being on expanding this mysterious perception. 'So here goes nothing.'
This was his first attempt to deliberately harness this new ability, and the result was astonishing. It was as if a veil had been torn away, revealing a world beyond ordinary senses. Arthur became aware of a sphere of perception extending around him in all directions—not sight, not sound, but something more fundamental. Within this radius, he could sense everything.
The gentle rustle of wind passing over the roses. The minute vibrations of insects crawling across the ground. The subtle displacement of air as the bats wings cut through it. All of these sensations registered with perfect clarity, creating a three-dimensional map of his surroundings in his mind's eye.
And most importantly, he could sense the flying monstrosity above. He felt its position, its trajectory, and the exact moment it tucked its wings and began another diving attack.
'Not yet…' Arthur thought, remaining perfectly still despite knowing precisely where the beast was. 'Not yet... not yet…'
He sensed the creature's approach, feeling it commit to its attack path, unable to change course now that it had begun its dive.
'NOW!'
In one fluid motion, Arthur spun his body and swung his odachi in a perfect arc, not needing his eyes to guide the blade. Steel met flesh with a sickening sound as the sword cleaved cleanly through the side of its wing. The creature shrieked in agony, its attack thwarted, its flight crippled.
Arthur opened his eyes just in time to see the monster tumble from the air, unable to maintain altitude with its damaged wing. It crashed into the bed of roses several yards away, writhing and screeching as it tried and failed to return to the safety of the night sky.
A smile of grim satisfaction spread across Arthur's face as he witnessed the Nightreaver collapse to the ground, attempting to stand on its grotesquely humanoid legs while holding its mangled wing limply at its side.
"Nowhere for you to run now," Arthur said, his voice low and confident as he adjusted his grip on the odachi and began advancing toward the wounded creature.
The creature hissed in response, backing away slightly but unable to flee. Its yellow eyes burned with hatred and fear—a cornered predator suddenly finding itself in the role of prey. It lifted its damaged wing as if to emphasize the injury, then let out another piercing screech that seemed equal parts pain and defiance.
Arthur kept his newfound sense active, refusing to rely solely on his eyes when this strange perception had served him so well. Through it, he could feel the creature's trembling body, its rapidly beating heart, the tension in its muscles as it prepared for one final, desperate attack.
'It's going to lunge at me,' Arthur realized, reading the monster's intentions through his expanded awareness. 'It knows it can't escape, so it's going to try to take me with it.'
He adjusted his stance accordingly, planting his feet firmly in the dead roses and raising his odachi to a defensive position. The sword felt like an extension of his arm, perfectly balanced and responsive in a way it hadn't been during daylight hours.
"Come on then," Arthur taunted, his confidence growing with each passing second. "Let's finish this."
The bats mouth split into an impossibly wide grin, revealing row upon row of needle-like teeth. For a brief, unsettling moment, Arthur could have sworn he saw intelligence behind those yellow eyes—not mere animal cunning, but something deeper and more sinister. Then the moment passed, and the creature's features twisted into a mask of feral rage.
With unexpected speed, the Nightreaver launched itself forward on its powerful legs, not upward as Arthur had anticipated, but straight at him like a missile. Its taloned feet scrabbled across the ground, sending rose petals flying in its wake. Its good wing extended fully to provide balance, while its damaged one trailed uselessly at its side.
But Arthur was ready. His enhanced perception tracked the monster's approach with perfect precision, calculating distance, speed, and angle without conscious thought. As the Nightreaver leaped for his throat, jaws gaping wide enough to take his head clean off, Arthur executed a perfect sidestep and pivot.
The creature sailed past him, missing its target by mere inches. Before it could recover, Arthur brought his odachi down in a powerful two-handed strike, cleaving through the base of the Nightreaver's neck with a single decisive blow.
The head went tumbling through the roses, coming to rest several feet away. The body continued forward for a moment more, carried by momentum, before crumpling to the ground in a heap of leathery wings and twisted limbs.
Arthur stood over his fallen enemy, breathing heavily but unhurt. A strange mixture of emotions coursed through him—relief, pride, and something darker that he didn't want to examine too closely. A primal satisfaction at having defeated a predator that had seen him as nothing more than meat.