Satou felt Morgana's presence grow slightly stronger, and another voice joined hers—Seraphine's, warm and determined: "Satou, I'm channeling power to you through Morgana's connection. Accept it. Let me help."

Energy flooded into Satou—not physical energy, but something more fundamental. His dream-form became more solid, more real. The abilities he'd gained from consuming demons strengthened. His connection to Void Fang deepened.

[Corruption Enhancement] appeared in his mind, along with [Dream Stability (Enhanced)] and [Power Amplification (Temporary)].

Satou felt stronger, more grounded in this realm. Seraphine's buffs were making him more resistant to dream manipulation, harder to affect with the realm's distortions.

"Oh, now that's interesting," Merc Assault said, clearly detecting the power influx. "You've got quite the support network. Morgana providing guidance, someone else providing power. This has turned into a proper challenge. Good. I was worried this would be too easy."

"Then let's stop talking," Satou said, raising Void Fang. All the abilities he'd gained from consuming nightmare demons thrummed beneath his skin, ready to be used. Shadow manipulation, mental attacks, enhanced reflexes, damage reflection, life drain, spatial awareness, combat instinct—all of it synchronized, waiting for his command.

"Agreed," Merc Assault replied. "Let's see if you can survive long enough to wake up."

The assassin moved first, crossing the distance between them in a blink. Their nightmare sword met Void Fang in a clash that sent shockwaves through the dream realm. Reality itself seemed to buckle where the two weapons met—one cutting through reality, the other made from condensed dream-stuff.\

Satou's enhanced reflexes warned him of the follow-up attack a split second before it came—a wave of nightmare energy erupting from Merc Assault's free hand. He dodged, using his shadow manipulation to create a barrier that absorbed most of the blast.

The assassin pressed the advantage, their attacks coming faster than should be physically possible. But Satou's combat instinct helped him predict patterns, his enhanced reflexes let him keep up, and his spatial awareness warned him of attacks coming from unexpected angles.

He countered with a mental attack—one of the abilities he'd gained from consuming the psychic screamer demon. The psychic blast should have caused disorientation, maybe even stun Merc Assault briefly.

Instead, the assassin laughed. "Nice try! Those abilities don't work on me."

Satou realized the problem immediately. All the abilities he'd gained from nightmare demons were ultimately derived from Merc Assault's own power. The assassin had created this realm and everything in it. Using those abilities against their creator was largely ineffective.

But Void Fang wasn't from this realm. Neither was Seraphine's corruption enhancement. And his own natural abilities—his tactical thinking, his willpower, his refusal to give up—those were his own.

He'd have to rely on what made him unique rather than what he'd borrowed from this place.

Satou changed tactics, focusing on pure swordsmanship enhanced by Seraphine's buffs. Void Fang's reality-cutting properties worked regardless of what realm he was in—the blade cut through dream-constructs as easily as physical matter.

Each strike forced Merc Assault to actually defend. The nightmare sword could block Void Fang, but only barely. And each time they clashed, the assassin's weapon degraded slightly while Void Fang remained perfect.

"That's a remarkable blade you have," Merc Assault commented, sounding genuinely impressed despite being pushed back. "It doesn't follow dream logic. Doesn't conform to this realm's rules. What is it?"

"A weapon that cuts what shouldn't be cut," Satou replied, pressing his attack. "Reality, dreams, existence itself. Your nightmare realm is just another thing for it to slice through."

"Interesting theory. Let's test it."

The entire chamber shifted. The walls became liquid, the floor turned into a bottomless pit, the ceiling collapsed into a crushing weight. The laws of physics inverted—up became down, left became right, solid became intangible.

Satou's dream stability kept him grounded, but the disorientation was intense. Merc Assault used the chaos to attack from multiple directions simultaneously, their form splitting into three separate assassins, all attacking with nightmare swords.

Satou used his life drain ability—not to attack Merc Assault directly, but to drain the dream-energy from the environment itself. Seraphine's corruption enhancement let him convert that energy into his own power, stabilizing himself despite the chaos.

He cut down one of the three assassins with Void Fang. It dissipated back into dream-smoke, revealing it had been a construct. But which of the remaining two was real?

His combat instinct screamed a warning, and Satou spun, catching an attack from behind—a fourth assassin that hadn't been visible before. This one felt more solid, more real.

"Good instincts," Merc Assault admitted. "You're learning fast. Adapting to my tricks. This is why dream assassination usually works best on the first attempt. The longer a target survives, the more they adapt, the harder it becomes to finish them."

"Then maybe you should have hit harder from the start," Satou shot back, going on the offensive.

The battle intensified. Merc Assault created increasingly complex nightmare scenarios—rooms that folded in on themselves, gravity that pulled in contradictory directions, time that flowed backwards and forwards simultaneously. But Satou's enhanced spatial awareness helped him navigate the madness, and Seraphine's continued power support kept him stable.

Satou pushed harder, his attacks becoming more precise. He'd learned Merc Assault's patterns, understood how the assassin moved and thought. Every exchange taught him more, and he was a quick learner.

Void Fang carved through another nightmare construct, and this time Satou followed up immediately with a strike aimed where his spatial awareness told him the real Merc Assault was hiding.

The blade connected. Not a killing blow, but a solid hit—the first real damage Satou had managed to inflict.

Merc Assault stumbled back, and for the first time, there was something like concern in their voice. "You actually hit me. In my own domain. That shouldn't be possible."

"Guess I'm just that good," Satou replied, though internally he was exhausted. The constant fighting, the mental strain of maintaining stability in a realm that actively rejected his existence—it was taking its toll.

But he couldn't stop. Couldn't give up.

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