Aldric reached up and **wiped his mouth**, smearing away the dark trickle of blood at the corner of his lips. His fingers came away crimson. He glanced at them, then scoffed.
"Tch."
He looked up, voice casual—almost amused—as he called out,
"Lyria. Are you trying to kill your big brother with that?"
As he spoke, he **grabbed** one of the remaining blood weapons embedded in his side. His fingers closed around the haft, and with a sharp pull, he **ripped it free**.
Wet.
Violent.
Blood sprayed as the wound tore open—then immediately **knit itself shut**, flesh crawling back together as the weapon dissolved into mist.
Lyriana didn't lower her guard.
Her wings beat once, carrying her back just enough to maintain distance, the two babies held tight against her chest. Her eyes burned as she snapped back,
"You're the one who jumped in out of nowhere like an idiot running headfirst into death! Were you *trying* to get yourself killed?!"
Aldric barked out a short laugh.
"Oi, show a little concern, will you?" He rolled his shoulder, testing it. "Even with you protecting the kids, I didn't think you'd be **struggling this much** against these bastards."
Then his tone shifted.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
Aldric turned to face the remaining knights.
They had regrouped—barely. Shields were raised, blades trembling, holy mana flickering unevenly as fear seeped into their stances. Blood soaked the forest floor around them, bodies drained dry, armor empty and useless.
Aldric's grin faded.
What replaced it was colder.
Predatory.
He lifted the blood-slick weapon he'd torn free earlier, letting it **reshape** in his hand—metal dissolving, reforming into a jagged crimson edge.
His gaze locked onto the knights.
"Alright," he said quietly. "Family time's over."
Blood rose behind him like a tide.
"And since you kept her busy…"
His wings unfurled slightly, casting long, warped shadows through the ruined forest.
"…I'll clean up."
He exhaled slowly.
Annoyance still lingered—sharp and unresolved.
"Tch… I'm still a little pissed about earlier," he muttered, tilting his head as blood gathered at his feet. "But yeah. Getting rid of you lot?"
A thin smile curled at his lips.
"That should help."
The knights **felt it**.
Fear crawled into their bones, but none stepped back. Shields tightened. Blades rose. Holy mana flared—uneven, desperate.
One of them forced himself forward.
"Hold the line!" he shouted, voice strained with borrowed courage. "We are knights of the Radiant Goddess—if we stand together, we can—"
A **red flash**.
No warning.
No buildup.
Aldric was simply **there**.
The knight's words ended in a wet, choking sound as his body **split cleanly in two**, blood erupting outward in a violent arc. The upper half slid free of the lower, armor clattering uselessly as both halves collapsed to the forest floor.
Silence followed.
Aldric stood beside the corpse, blood dripping from his blade, expression calm—almost bored.
His voice was soft.
Cold.
"Any of you bastards," he said, lifting his gaze to the rest, "say that goddess's name again…"
He tilted his head slightly.
"…and I'll make sure you die first."
A heartbeat passed.
Then a scream tore through the forest.
The remaining knights **charged**, terror and desperation twisting into reckless fury as holy light flared around them.
Aldric's grin spread wide—sharp and feral.
"Good," he said, stepping forward as blood surged to meet him.
"Much better."
He vanished into the oncoming rush.
Crimson light exploded as steel, blood, and screams collided—Aldric tearing through their ranks like a living catastrophe, every movement fast, brutal, and merciless.
There was no flourish to it.
No wasted motion.
Steel flashed.
Blood followed.
The knights fell one after another—throats opened, tendons severed, hearts pierced. Each strike landed exactly where it needed to, precise enough to feel almost surgical. Panic never had time to take hold—only shock, then silence.
Moments later, it was over.
The forest stood still once more.
Bodies littered the ground, armor split and stained, holy light long extinguished. The air reeked of iron and fading mana.
One knight remained.
Aldric held him aloft with one hand, fingers **dug into the helmet**, grip so tight the metal creaked in protest. The knight thrashed, boots kicking uselessly, hands clawing at Aldric's wrist.
"L-let me—!" he choked.
Aldric didn't answer.
He pulled the knight closer.
With a sharp twist, the helmet was **ripped free**, metal shrieking as it tore away. The knight screamed—raw, unfiltered terror—as his face was exposed.
Aldric's eyes locked onto him.
Then his fangs snapped forward.
He bit down **hard**.
The scream collapsed into a gurgle as his fangs sank into the knight's neck. Blood flowed instantly—far too fast—drawn out in thick, pulsing waves. The body convulsed as color drained from it, skin tightening and cracking as if centuries passed in seconds.
The struggle weakened.
Then stopped.
Aldric pulled back slowly, a thin strand of blood stretching between them before snapping. He exhaled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Haa…" His voice was low. Satisfied.
"That felt good."
The corpse in his grasp looked less like a man now—more like a **mummified husk**, hollow-eyed, skin drawn tight over bone.
He released it.
It hit the ground with a dry, empty thud.
"…Yeah," Aldric muttered, flexing his fingers as faint crimson light pulsed once beneath his skin. "I needed that."
His hand brushed his chest where holy fire had burned him earlier—now fully healed, no scar left behind. The hunger lingered, but the edge had dulled.
"All that regenerating burns through more than you'd think," he continued casually. "Blood. Stamina. Doesn't matter how many times you grow it back—the cost stacks."
A faint smirk tugged at his mouth.
"Guess I was a little hungry."
He wiped the last smear of blood from his lips with his thumb and flicked it aside, gaze drifting over the ruined clearing.
Then he looked up—toward Lyriana and the path ahead.
"Alright," he muttered, irritation finally gone.
"Now… where were we?"