Next and most notable was the equipment and materials he saw Maru's officials use. The death knight was uniquely aligned with his twin sword blades, channeling an aura of menace and precision. He manipulated space to accelerate his movements, bending distance itself to gain advantage, and used his heightened perception to anticipate attacks before they happened.
This made a double sword held in each hand the most fitting weapon for him, a perfect extension of his will. The blades amplified his dominance in battle, whether in duels, skirmishes, or when standing alone against overwhelming numbers.
Because the swords were light, he could unleash a wide variety of sword styles, chaining fluid techniques together, and accelerating his strikes with both perception and spatial mastery. His presence became a storm of steel, a relentless force that embodied speed, adaptability, and terrifying efficiency.
The sand-woman was also notable—well, to be fair, she was only truly remarkable when she removed her robes, revealing a monstrous form that seemed torn from a movie like "The Mummy" or "Gods of Egypt". Though she wielded no weapon, she was the one Diego feared most in battle, her presence radiating dread and awe.
Her ability to conjure thousands of earth golems by continually manipulating the chaos element with stunning skill and finesse was nothing short of terrifying, a spectacle of raw elemental mastery. Yet even more extraordinary was the way she escaped from the battlefield, vanishing with the aid of her gem in a display of brilliance and mystery.
That moment was simply breathtaking, a feat Diego would never admit aloud, though it lingered in his memory as proof of her unmatched cunning and power.
The skill she used was superb, conjuring multiple golems that bore cured runes to magnify their weight and brute force within the span of a single second—an achievement that demanded immense mastery. It nearly overwhelmed Diego, forcing him into a precarious situation where his reserves of energy were dangerously close to depletion.
Though he outwardly flexed, pretending it was effortless to strike down multiple enemies in mere moments while maintaining his composure, the truth was far harsher. Beneath the façade of confidence, he was secretly suffering, his body strained and spirit taxed, paying a hidden price for unleashing such a devastating move. The clash revealed not only her terrifying finesse but also the fragility of Diego's bravado, a reminder that even the strongest warriors carry unseen burdens.
It wasn't that Diego lacked the ability to fight numerous enemies, nor that his mastery of combat faltered when facing overwhelming odds. No—Diego was a true master of battle, one of the finest warriors in all of New Darkovia, capable of cutting down legions of foes, especially those far weaker than him.
Yet, as with all soul beings in New Darkovia, he was cursed, bound by ancient laws that twisted strength into suffering. For someone like Diego, whose arsenal brimmed with overpowered skills and whose very attribute was directly aligned with energy itself, the weight of curses was immense.
Each ability carried hidden consequences, draining his essence, binding his spirit, and reminding him that even unmatched power came at a terrible cost. His brilliance was undeniable, but his burden was equally vast, a shadow that followed every strike and every victory.
The most notable of his curses was that of energy. While Diego had achieved near‑complete mastery over energy—both the force within his body and the free currents in the atmosphere—this gift was twisted into torment. His control granted him feats few could imagine, such as fusing his consciousness with the energy that coursed through him, becoming one with the very essence of power itself.
Yet the energy curse was among the most gruesome and terrible, a relentless affliction that drained his vitality, gnawed at his spirit, and threatened to consume him whenever he reached for greatness. It was a paradox of brilliance and suffering, a reminder that in New Darkovia, even mastery carried a cruel shadow.
Each moment, his curse expelled the energy within his body—whether he walked, slept, fought or performed any action. For every action, whether he desired it or not, energy was forced outward, draining him constantly.
It was a curse so merciless it would have killed any ordinary soul being, but Diego was no ordinary warrior. From the time he was merely a low‑class soul being, he had learned a rare and extraordinary skill: the ability to absorb energy from the atmosphere itself.
This gift allowed him to replenish what was lost, drawing strength from the very air around him, and turning survival into a delicate balance of endurance and mastery. His resilience was not just a testament to his power, but to his relentless will to defy the fate that sought to consume him.
Learning such a skill at such an early stage profoundly shaped Diego's energy manipulation techniques. He understood with precision how much energy was expelled from his body and exactly how much he needed to stabilize himself, a level of awareness unmatched by others.
More than anyone, Diego perceived the energy within him not as something intangible or phantom, but as a living extension of his being—like another limb or vital organ. This perspective allowed him to wield energy in ways most soul beings could never imagine, crafting techniques that blended instinct with mastery.
Yet this did not mean he escaped his curse; rather, he discovered a path around it, a fragile balance that turned torment into opportunity. In the end, his ingenuity transformed a grueling affliction into a source of strength, though the shadow of suffering never truly left him.
However, when he fought the sand‑woman, Diego realized with chilling clarity how she could have turned his curse against him if she had known its true nature. As he struggled to cut down the endless tide of golems surging toward him, he was forced to tap deeply into the energy within his body and momentarily halt his absorption of atmospheric energy—a decision that carried a devastating cost.
His inner reserves were swiftly extinguished, leaving him nearly hollow. All that remained were faint sparks, fragile echoes of where his energy once flowed, flickering like dying embers.
The only places where a trace of power lingered were the nodes, those intricate interlocks where the pathways of energy intersected, fragile bastions against complete collapse. In that moment, Diego stood on the razor's edge between survival and annihilation, his curse threatening to consume him entirely.
His life was literally being held together by a few fragile strands of energy, serving as the bonds that kept his existence intact. He would no doubt have perished if the sand‑woman had unleashed even a handful more of her relentless golems.
Yet fate intervened—her reserves were also depleted, her strength waning under the strain of chaos manipulation. As she began painstakingly crafting new rock golems to hurl against him, Diego seized the moment. Slowly, deliberately, he absorbed energy from the atmosphere, each breath pulling power back into his empty energy pathways.
At the same time, he advanced step by step, exerting pressure on the sand‑woman, his presence a looming threat. His forward march was not just a bid to end her, but a declaration of defiance, a warrior's resolve to turn desperation into dominance.