The sky churned with heavy clouds, streaked with a sickly red glow that pulsed like veins across the heavens. The air smelled of iron, thick and sharp, as Arthur and Carl locked eyes across the battlefield.
Carl raised his sword high, and the steel hummed with unnatural power. A cyclone of blood spiraled upward, twisting into the clouds before bursting apart in a downpour of crimson rain. Each drop hissed when it hit the ground, leaving red scars in the dirt.
Carl grinned, lips curling back to show sharpened teeth. "Even a single drop will drain the life out of you."
Arthur stood inside a glowing barrier, light shimmering like molten gold. Behind him, two radiant wings unfurled, beating once and scattering sparks of light into the air. "Then I'll make sure none of it touches me."
"Let's see how long you can manage that."
Carl's body blurred and then vanished into speed. In an instant he was in front of Arthur, his blade striking again and again. Each impact rang out like a hammer against an anvil. He wasn't trying to break through with strength—he was wearing the shield down with a storm of rapid blows, so fast the eye struggled to follow.
Arthur braced, sparks flying as his shield shuddered under the assault. Then he pushed forward with all his strength. His sword flared and released a blinding arc of light that hurled Carl backward. The weapon splintered in his grip, shattering into fragments. Without hesitation, Arthur conjured a gleaming spear and hurled it. Mid-flight, the weapon split into a storm of golden spears, each one shrieking through the air toward Carl.
At the same time, the droplets of blood around Carl froze in midair. At his command, thousands shot forward, colliding with the spears in a roaring clash. The blood moved like living things, tearing the golden weapons apart before surging onward toward Arthur in a crimson flood.
Arthur raised his hand, light flashing as a new shield formed. Its surface glowed with carved runes, and when the storm of blood slammed into it, the ground cracked beneath his feet. The force rattled the battlefield, but the shield held, golden light burning against the endless red.
When the storm of blood finally ended, Arthur's shield cracked apart and dissolved into a shower of glowing fragments that drifted away like embers on the wind. Even before the last spark vanished, light coiled around his hand and solidified into a twin swords, each edge gleaming like molten gold.
Carl tilted his head, crimson eyes narrowing with curiosity. "Your weapon keeps changing. You must be Arthur—the pope's son. How is your father these days?" His smirk turned the question into a blade of mockery.
Arthur exhaled sharply through his nose. "Centuries old, and you still taunt like a child. Fine. You're strong enough for me to test my new power."
Carl's smirk faltered, irritation flashing across his face. Arthur didn't care. Power coursed through his body, veins glowing with golden light as the ground trembled beneath his feet. With a burst of speed, he shot forward, so fast that Carl barely saw the blur before impact.
Carl managed to raise his blade at the last moment, but Arthur's strike landed with crushing force. The impact blasted him off his feet, hurling him across the battlefield. Before he could recover, Arthur closed the distance again, twin swords flashing. Carl caught one blade, but the other carved across his chest, spilling blood in a crimson arc.
The blood refused to fall. It coiled upward, twisted into a spear, and shot forward with deadly speed. Arthur crossed his blades and blocked, the force hammering into him like a siege weapon. The ground split open beneath his boots as he was driven into the earth.
When the dust cleared, Arthur rose from the crater, a new weapon in his grip. The golden light had reshaped itself into a massive greatsword, its edge glowing like fire drawn into steel.
Arthur raised his greatsword high, its golden edge burning brighter until it glowed like a second sun in the storm. With a roar, he brought it down, unleashing a massive arc of light.
Carl answered with his own power, spinning his blade and conjuring a tornado of blood that twisted upward like a living serpent. The two forces slammed together, light against crimson, and the clash erupted in a thunderous explosion that shook the battlefield.
Arthur didn't hesitate. Through the storm of light and blood, a longbow of radiant light formed in his hands. He loosed a single arrow, which burst into hundreds as they tore through the smoke. Without pausing, the bow dissolved, reshaping into a new sword of light as he lunged forward.
Carl, still swatting away arrows, caught sight of Arthur charging through the haze. Surprise flashed across his face for an instant—then his expression twisted into a grin. Blood surged from his body, wrapping around him like a massive serpent. The crimson coils shredded the golden arrows before tightening around his blade. With a snarl, he met Arthur's strike, the two swords locking together in a shower of sparks.
Their blades ground against each other, the force vibrating through the air. Carl's grin widened, sharp fangs glinting. "Let me show you the full power of a vampire."
The blood surrounding his sword erupted outward, exploding into a tornado that hurled Arthur back.
Arthur steadied himself, shattered the storm with a single swing, but the reprieve lasted only moments. From the roiling red clouds above, more tornadoes descended, ripping open the earth and filling the battlefield with a dreadful, howling storm.
Carl's form began to change. His nails lengthened into claws, his fangs grew sharper, and the blue glow in his eyes blazed brighter. His aura thickened, radiating like a stormfront before lightning. Blood droplets in the air froze around him, suspended in a horrifying yet eerily beautiful display.
At his command, the droplets swirled together, fusing into a massive crimson sphere that pulsed with unstable energy. With a deafening crack, it detonated into a stream of compressed blood, surging forward at thunderous speed toward Arthur—who stood glowing like an angel of light in the heart of a red hell.
In Arthur's hand, a new sword shimmered into existence, followed instantly by a radiant shield. The transformation didn't end there. Light poured over his body, weaving together piece by piece until it solidified into gleaming armor. In seconds, Arthur stood like a golden knight, wings still flaring behind him, a figure of divine war.
The blood storm surged forward, and Arthur braced. He raised his shield and met the crimson tide head-on. The impact rattled the battlefield, golden sparks bursting from the edges of his shield with each crushing wave. The force threatened to drive him down, but Arthur stood unyielding, his boots carving into the ground as he held against the assault. When the torrent finally broke, he angled his shield toward Carl, and a blinding beam of light erupted from its center. It tore through the air so fast Carl had no time to react. The beam struck him directly, swallowing his figure in golden fire.
When the radiance faded, Carl staggered into view—his arm blasted away, hanging in tatters before dissolving completely.
He sneered, eyes narrowing as the flesh of a new limb knit itself together. Both his sleeves were now gone. "How… how did your power surge so suddenly?"
Arthur lowered his shield, expression calm. "Your last attack shattered ten shields in succession."
Carl's eyes widened. "What?"
Arthur said nothing more, but the truth was clear. He had cycled through his weapons at impossible speed, each broken form replaced instantly with another. Every shift had multiplied his strength, feeding off Carl's overwhelming assault. He had turned Carl's attack into fuel for his own growth.
Carl's jaw tightened. 'I underestimated him.' But almost as quickly, he steadied himself. His confidence did not break. He still had a weapon that he believed would tip the balance.
From his pocket, he drew a ring set with a crimson gem that pulsed faintly, like a heart. "This is the Ring of Crimson Metamorphosis," he said, voice filled with pride. "An A-rank relic. Its curse makes it useless to anyone else—it devours the blood of its wielder the instant it's worn. And it corrupts the soul, shackling the user in this form until they've slaughtered a hundred victims."
Arthur's voice cut sharp. "I suppose that won't be a problem for you."
Carl smirked and slid the ring onto his finger. Immediately, the blood swirling across the battlefield twisted violently, collapsing toward him. It wrapped his body in a seething sphere, spinning so fast the air howled. For long moments, nothing could be seen but a storm of blood collapsing inward. Then, with a final pull, the sphere went inside him.
Where Carl had stood, something monstrous emerged.
His body was transformed into a devil's frame. Two horns curled from his skull like those of a bull. Batlike wings stretched wide, dripping with scarlet mist. His eyes burned with blue flame set in pools of black. His skin, once pale, was now cadaverous white, but his arms and legs were covered in jagged black scales, rough as iron and sharp as dragon fang.
Carl looked at Arthur with eyes devoid of humanity, his voice echoing with a hollow chill. "Shall we begin?"
…
Leo's sword clashed against Dorin's claw. To the side, Briva darted into position and released an arrow wreathed in green energy.
Dorin snarled. With a casual flick of strength, he hurled Leo backward several meters. His other hand snapped out, catching Briva's glowing arrow midair. He crushed it effortlessly, shards of green light scattering like broken glass.
No more than a second later, Leo recovered, and launched a crimson slash across the ground. He sprinted behind the attack, blade ready. "Just keep firing!" he barked at Briva, who still stood in shock at how easily her strike had been dismissed.
The blood slash split against Dorin's body harmlessly, his thick hide and fur absorbing the attack. He pushed through the crimson haze and met Leo's sword again, claw to steel.
Briva shook herself free of hesitation and loosed three more arrows in rapid succession. They struck Dorin directly, but his fur absorbed the energy with nothing more than faint sparks. He threw his head back and unleashed a thunderous howl, the sound forcing Leo to stagger a step back.
Dorin's lips curled into a mocking grin. "Hah! You think you can kill me with such childish attacks?"
Leo ignored him, pressing forward with strike after strike. Dorin swatted each blow aside with contemptuous ease, his claws carving the air.
"I'm done with this game," Dorin growled. "Let's finish it."
With a burst of speed, he raked his claw straight toward Leo's chest. Leo raised his sword to parry, but Dorin's other hand pinned it down. The claw tore into his flesh, crimson spraying—yet Dorin's grin faded instantly.
Leo's body dissolved into blood, scattering like mist. The real Leo appeared behind him, blade raised. At the same time, roots and branches erupted from the ground, Briva's druidic power snaring Dorin's limbs in a tightening grip.
Adding to the trap, Leo slammed his palm to the earth. A vast circle lit up beneath Dorin's feet. The air grew heavy, gravity surging and crushing down on the beast's body. Dorin's muscles strained against the combined weight and bindings, cracks forming in the branches. Both Leo and Briva knew the restraint would not last.
Briva leapt high, soaring directly above Dorin. Her bow bent under the force of her full draw, green energy spiraling around the arrow until it roared with a tornado's fury. She released.
"Weight Enchantment!" Leo shouted, thrusting his hand toward the falling strike. A golden light flared over the arrow, and its descent tripled in speed.
Dorin, tearing himself free, looked up just in time to raise an arm before the attack crashed down. The arrow slammed into him like a hammer from the heavens. The ground split open in a massive circle, dust and stone blasting outward. Cracks shot through the castle walls fifteen meters away as the earth groaned from the impact.
The dust hung thick in the air, choking the battlefield—until a massive figure emerged from it. Dorin's arm dripped with blood, but his grin remained, sharper than ever. "Looks like this fight might actually be fun."
But then, from the south—where Arthur and Carl clashed—a devilish surge of power ripped across the battlefield. It rolled over them like an ocean of raw mana, heavy and suffocating, pulling every gaze toward it.
Dorin's ears twitched, his grin widening. "So, Carl's getting serious." His eyes shifted back to Leo, voice deep with menace. "I should finish you quickly before he returns."
Leo steadied his stance, bringing his sword low at his side. His veins pulsed, glowing faintly as power surged through him. His lips curled into a defiant grin. "I'd like to see you try."