Dark Born
Copyright© 2025 by Es_Orik
Chapter 30: Confrontation
Science Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 30: Confrontation - A young man is transported to a new world as the Dark Lord, witness his rise from an ordinary college student to a being capable of causing the greatest evil.
Caution: This Science Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Mult Teenagers Consensual Romantic Lesbian Heterosexual Fiction High Fantasy Restart Magic Sharing Harem Cream Pie
“So, what are you doing here?”
Adam remained calm, arms folded across his chest as he leaned sideways against the doorframe, his gaze locked on Nero. She stood fully visible now, her crimson eyes narrowed in open hostility. The veil of her magic had dissolved, revealing the slender dark elf in her usual form-fitting black leathers, armed with twin curved blades resting at her hips, her short white hair framing a face both striking and deadly.
He watched her with a cool smile, but though he appeared outwardly relaxed, he was anything but on the inside. His gaze never shifted away once, not even briefly. He observed every slight movement she made, every glance, not a single thing slipped past his notice. He knew she had not wanted to be discovered, but now that he’d found her, what would she do? What had her Queen ordered for such a situation? Adam wasn’t sure what he expected to happen, but he refused to be caught off guard.
Nero didn’t answer immediately. Instead, her gaze flicked once to the door, then back to him, jaw clenching tighter. “I do not answer questions from you. Not now, not ever,” she finally hissed, the words dripping with malice and disdain. “You’ve fulfilled your end of the bargain with Her Majesty. Why I’m here is no concern of yours.”
Adam’s smile didn’t waver. “On the contrary, I think it is,” he said. “Your Queen wanted me to destroy a smuggling ring, but she failed to mention the leader was the son of a noble. And as if that’s not enough, I find you sneaking around.” He tilted his head slightly, eyes sharpening. “It raises all sorts of red flags in my head.”
“I do not care what you think or feel. My presence here has nothing to do with you,” she responded dismissively. “Now, let me pass.”
Adam straightened himself from the doorframe. “I will,” he replied, then his gaze dropped to the pocket where he’d seen her hide something, lingering there for a second before rising back up. “Once you hand over whatever it is you took from that box.”
Nero’s face darkened. “Why would I do such a thing?”
“To clear up any misunderstanding,” he said evenly, the smile melting from his lips as his tone grew serious. “As you said, I’ve upheld my end of the bargain, but a noble’s son is dead, it’s safe to assume the father would want to know what happened to him. Maybe your Queen thinks she can use that as leverage to keep me on a leash, or maybe she intends to throw me to the wolves as soon as I walk out of here to keep her own hands clean, I don’t know. But the fact that you’re here right now, that you took something ... something I definitely wasn’t supposed to know about; it makes me think the worst. So, to clear that up, I need you to hand over whatever it is you’re hiding. I’ll take a look, and once I’m sure it won’t cause trouble for me, I’ll deliver it to Her Majesty myself—after she explains exactly why I had to kill a noble’s son for it.”
The dark elf shook her head, letting out a quiet snort. “You’re deluding yourself into seeing plots and schemes where none exist,” she said slowly, her tone heavy with mockery. “It seems being too clever can be as much a curse as it is a blessing.”
Did she just call him paranoid? Well, maybe she was right, maybe he was being a bit too paranoid. But considering how events surrounding him always seemed to spiral into something larger, and how mistrustful he was of the Queen, he would be a complete idiot to overlook anything, no matter how small or farfetched it might seem.
“Maybe you’re right, but I’m just going to play it safe anyway,” Adam replied.
Her hands balled into fists at her sides. “You really are bold,” she said.
He shrugged. “There wouldn’t be a need for any of this if your Queen had simply been honest with me from the start,” he said and extended his hand, palm up. “Give it.”
“And if I refuse?” she asked, her eyes burning with defiance.
Adam didn’t respond with words, he simply called his shadows to his side. The two dark figures that had been waiting silently in the warehouse moved forward without a sound, stepping through the doorway to flank his sides like twin guards. Their bladed hands dripped residual blood onto the floorboards as they stood there, menacing, silent, and so utterly still; their faceless heads turned toward the slender dark elf.
Adam’s voice remained low and even. “Don’t,” he warned.
Nero stared at him a moment, then at the shadows looming behind him. He could see the calculations flashing behind that hateful glare as she considered her options, and he also saw her fear. She had watched the slaughter in the warehouse, she’d seen the clones tear through twelve men in such brutal fashion, she knew what they could do. The fear in her eyes was as plain as day, it was the same fear he had sensed when she was on the rafters. But there was something else he saw in her eyes, something deeper and stronger than any fear he could make her feel ... her absolute devotion to the Queen.
She released a slow, controlled breath. “I refuse,” she declared.
The words had barely even left her lips before her body shimmered and vanished completely from sight. Adam had no time to think, a dagger hissed out of the empty air straight toward his throat. Just as he moved to dodge, one of the shadows surged forward to protect him without command, its bladed forearm intercepting the attack.
The dagger was knocked right out of the air, clattering harmlessly to the ground.
The second shadow lunged forward, faster than thought, its bladed arm sweeping through the space where Nero had stood, but it met only air. The first clone left Adam’s side immediately, rushing toward a far section of the wall and slashing hard. There was nothing there, yet steel rang out with a sharp clang, followed by a pained grunt. Nero flickered back into view, her twin daggers crossed against the clone’s bladed hand.
Interesting. The clones could sense her just fine. He should have guessed that they would be able to, after all, they weren’t actually seeing with eyes.
The second shadow had turned after its missed strike, surging toward Nero once again. But the dark elf was already moving, abandoning her invisibility completely. She twisted away from the first clone, evading a strike from the second while slashing with her dagger, aiming for what would have been its knee if it were flesh and blood.
The clone didn’t flinch. It reformed the damaged limb almost instantly, pressing the attack with relentless fury. Steel met shadow-flesh with a strange, wet tearing sound, but every wound Nero inflicted sealed itself within moments. She was fast—far faster than the smugglers had been, her movements honed by years of elite training—but the clones moved like tireless machines, never retreating, never stopping.
For a couple of minutes, the small office became a storm of motion. Nero danced between the two shadows, her twin daggers flashing in a constant blur. A slice here, a thrust there. She scored gashes all across their shadow flesh, black smoke pouring from the cuts like blood. One clone lost an arm again. It regrew another from the stump mid-swing. The other took a stab straight through its chest; Nero drove the blade to the hilt and twisted, as if trying to destroy whatever controlled it from within.
The clone staggered for half a second, then its bladed hand shot forward, forcing her to leap backwards to safety.
Adam remained in the doorway, arms crossed, watching with an almost clinical interest. He considered stepping in to overwhelm her, but he didn’t for several reasons, the most important of which was that this was too valuable a test to cut short. He hadn’t gained much insight from the fight, or rather, the slaughter of the smugglers. He wanted to see what his shadows were capable of against a truly skilled opponent.
They were performing a lot better than they had against the smugglers, adapting, pressing relentlessly, giving the dark elf no space to try and shift her focus to him. Still, she was just on another level. She moved like a predator; fluid, quick, and completely ruthless. Every strike was calculated, aimed at joints, tendons, anything that would have been vital points on a living opponent. Unlike Elsa’s more traditional, disciplined style, Nero’s was pure lethality, meant to end fights before they began, like an assassin.
Given that her magic rendered her invisible, it made perfect sense...
As the fight stretched, the dark elf’s strikes became more frantic as she probed for a weakness, a decisive killing blow, and she found it on the first clone. As the dark creation rushed at her, she feinted left, then dropped low and drove both daggers upward in a scissoring motion. The blades crossed at the clone’s neck, and with a grunt of effort, she wrenched them apart. The head rolled free and toppled sideways, dissolving into black mist before it had even hit the floor. The body stood for one frozen instant, then collapsed into a swirling puddle of darkness that rapidly faded away.
The remaining clone lunged without pause, both bladed hands stabbing forward like spears. Nero parried one, spun inside the other’s reach, and slammed her elbow into its faceless “face.” Then she viciously drove a dagger straight up under its jaw.
The shadow clone convulsed, its dark form writhing, then she yanked the blade sideways in a clean, decisive cut that nearly severed the head from the shoulders.
The clone crumpled to the ground and disintegrated completely.
The office suddenly fell quiet except for Nero’s breathing. She stood panting in the center of the small room, blood trickling from the shallow cut on her right shoulder and thigh, her red eyes narrowed in lingering wariness despite her triumph. A thin line of sweat ran down her temple, her jaw was clenched tight, and her short white hair had become slightly disheveled, but her grip on the daggers remained rock-steady.
Adam exhaled slowly. “Well done,” he said, his voice calm.
“Save your words,” the dark elf hissed, turning toward him, her face twisted with murderous intent. “You should have let me pass. Your death won’t be painless.”
Adam let his arms fall to his sides, posture loosening, though his gaze remained steady on hers. “Does your Queen want my death?” he asked, arching his brows.
Her jaw clenched at the mention of her Queen. She really didn’t like him talking about her. “Do not think you’ve become important, you’re nothing,” she said in a cold, hard voice that matched the hatred in her eyes. “The Queen will learn I merely defended myself ... and put down a wretched dog that would have turned on her eventually.”
Adam gave a scoff, smiling faintly. “At least you’re confident.”
He reached back and drew the sword he’d taken from one of the dead smugglers earlier, a plain but serviceable blade with a slightly worn edge. It felt strange in his grip, but he no longer had a weapon after returning Elsa’s, and he couldn’t yet afford a quality one. This would have to do for now. Besides, he didn’t want to kill her. Her death would just complicate things with the Queen when there was so much still unclear.
Also, he enjoyed her rage toward him far too much to want her dead right now.
“I’ll try my hardest not to kill you ... for the Queen’s sake,” he said.
His words, the casual belittlement, ignited her like oil on fire. Nero’s blood-red eyes blazed at the insult, and with a burst of speed, she exploded forward, her daggers flashing in a lethal arc meant to end him right where he stood.
Adam parried the first thrust with a sharp clang of steel, the impact jolting up his arm. He didn’t try to attack, instead, he leapt backward through the doorway, retreating into the open expanse of the warehouse floor. He refused to fight in the cramped office where her speed and daggers held every advantage, like it did against his shadows. Out here, in the wide blood-stained space, he could shift angles quicker and position better.
“You do not frighten me,” she said, stalking after him.
Adam’s lips curved faintly. The words sounded less like confidence and more like something she was convincing herself to believe. He had seen the fear in her eyes when she faced the shadows, and he still saw it lingering just beneath the loathing.
“We’ll test that,” he said, eyes locked on hers, sword held ready.
Adam didn’t wait for her to start the attack this time, he darted forward, coming upon her like a storm. Their blades met in a furious clash, steel echoing sharply through the warehouse. His longer sword gave him reach, but Nero was more agile. She struck high, low, then spinning into a kick that nearly took his legs out from under him. Adam blocked, parried, and countered, but even then she was too fast. One dagger sliced across his forearm, leaving a shallow wound, and another grazed his chest. Pain flared, but he ignored them, aiming a thrust at her shoulder, but the dark elf twisted around and leapt out of range, his sword just nicking her upper arm instead of impaling it.
She put some distance between them, her chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven breaths. She was finally starting to reach her limits. It should be any time now.
“You do not summon more of those abominations?” she asked.
Adam regarded the dark elf for a moment. Of course, he couldn’t tell her that he was unable to summon more clones, she might start disappearing again, and he couldn’t sense her as quickly as the clones did ... or as well as she believed he could.
“There’s no reason to,” he said. “We’re almost finished here.”
Nero growled and attacked again, her daggers becoming even faster. She grazed his cheek with a strike meant for his eyes, then shifted the angle and nearly took his ear off as he jerked his head back at the last moment. She wasn’t trying to overwhelm him, it felt as though she was dissecting him, trying to carve him down piece by piece.
Adam repelled her attacks as best as he could, waiting, just waiting.
Then it happened.
A swing too wide, an extra step to reset, breath growing harsher...
That was the opening he had been waiting for.
In an instant, Adam’s entire stance changed. The defensive posture vanished. He exploded forward with sudden, explosive aggression, his sword whipping around in a horizontal cut that forced her to leap backward. The blade whistled past her midsection, close enough that she felt the wind of it tug at her leathers. Before she could reset, he was on her again with another powerful overhead swing that she barely parried with both daggers crossed above her head. The impact rang out like a hammer on an anvil, sparks flying, the sheer force driving her arms down and making her stagger back.
Adam didn’t give her a chance to settle or even breathe. He pressed the advantage mercilessly, his longer blade granting him superior reach in the open warehouse.
Strike after strike came in heavy, controlled arcs, each one designed not to maim or kill, but to overwhelm and drive her back.
Nero’s eyes widened slightly as she was forced to give ground, her usual fluid grace strained under the relentless pressure. She parried and twisted, trying to slip inside his guard for a lethal counter, but every time she attempted to close the distance, his sword lashed out again, forcing her to retreat or risk being bisected.
A sharp grunt squeezed out of her throat as another heavy blow slammed against her daggers, the vibration shooting up her arms. She was good—exceptionally so—but fatigue was setting in after the earlier fight with the shadow clones, and Adam still had plenty in his reserves. His raw power was turning the tide completely.
Then came the decisive moment...
Nero tried to duck under a sweeping cut and counter with a spinning slash aimed at his ribs, but Adam anticipated it. He pivoted sharply, letting her momentum carry her slightly off-balance, and brought his sword around in a brutal, descending arc, not with the edge, but with the flat of the blade, using the full weight of the swing.
The blow slammed into her side with full force, driving the air from her lungs in a sharp, startled gasp. Her feet lifted clean off the ground as she was hurled backward, crashing into a crate before dropping and rolling across the blood-streaked warehouse floor. Her twin daggers tore free from her grip, skidding away out of reach.
Before she could begin to push herself up, Adam was on her.