The masked man smiled coldly behind his porcelain visage, stepping slowly toward Brian. He studied his own movements with clinical caution, certain that this final stand was nothing more than a desperate struggle to prolong the inevitable.
In his mind, Brian's death was a foregone conclusion, yet the boy seemed determined to grant himself one last moment of defiance.
"You cling to false hope. It won't save you," the masked man spoke, his voice calm yet razor-sharp. "True power comes from understanding. You haven't grasped this world yet. This is no place for heroes or dreams. This is a place for survival. And those who cannot survive... die."
But Brian wasn't listening. Every word, every thought, was distilled into this final confrontation. He knew the time had come to do something—anything—to alter his fate, if only for a few seconds.
With a burst of speed that defied the masked man's expectations, Brian lunged. He knew his battered body was at its limit, but those fleeting seconds were enough to ignite the last embers of his strength.
"This is for Sora... and for Tara!" Brian screamed, thrusting his sword toward the masked man.
Swoosh—!
The masked man moved with incredible speed, but Brian, despite his wounds, had anticipated the dodge. He shifted at an unpredictable angle, exploiting a single heartbeat of distraction in the masked man's eyes. In a blurred instant, he managed to sink his blade into his opponent's side.
Shing—! Clink—!
"Argh!"
The masked man cried out in pain for the first time. The wound wasn't fatal, but it was enough to force him back several steps, stunned that Brian had managed to touch him. He looked at the wound, then back at Brian, who stood gasping, on the verge of total collapse.
"You... you actually managed to wound me?.." the masked man muttered, his tone a cocktail of shock and rising fury.
Brian didn't answer. He didn't have the breath left for words. All he could do was remain standing, for one final moment, facing the man who had butchered those he loved.
[Do you want power?]
Suddenly, a floating blue message drifted before his eyes. It looked remarkably similar to his Alliance Bracelet interface, yet it was fundamentally different.
[Do you want power?]
The message pulsed three times.
[Yes / No]
"Damn it, YES!"
[Command Received!]
[The Selenium Empire has accepted you!]
[You have received the Blood Essence of the Vampire Progenitor, "Lloyd Amora"!]
[Blood Essence injection commencing...]
[Transformation into a Noble Vampire in...]
3... 2... 1...
Brian's veins exploded with a heat he had never known. He felt as if a spark of a volcano had been pumped into his bloodstream, as if his very anatomy was being rewritten. He shuddered in agony, falling to his knees, yet he did not scream.
His bones were snapping and reforging; his muscles were tearing and knitting back together; his blood boiled as if woven from ancient fire and gore.
The masked man, having retreated slightly, watched the grotesque transformations overtaking his prey.
In the distant shadows, eyes watched the bloody spectacle with detached intensity.
"We didn't agree to this, Master!" Gorlam muttered with irritation, his low voice barely cutting through the silence of the metallic forest surrounding them.
Tucked behind a bush of black crystal in the 9th Planetary Belt, he watched the carnage between Brian and the masked man. For him, traveling from the 39th Belt to the 9th wasn't just exhausting—it was an unnecessary and dangerous gamble. Even with his advanced capabilities, he didn't think the situation warranted this level of effort.
But the figure standing beside him was not one for debate. His emotionless eyes burned with an unquenchable crimson flame, staring at Brian as if trying to pierce his very core.
"You followed your plan... now, you follow mine."
The speaker's tone was calm, but it carried an authority so frigid it silenced Gorlam instantly.
"But Millennium will notice!" Gorlam protested in a whisper. "If they discover we injected your essence, Master, into an unauthorized human... we will be annihilated before you even grow strong. This plan is too reckless, too premature. Without the Commanders and Dukes, we are vulnerable."
Lloyd didn't turn.
He simply raised his right hand, tracing a slow spiral in the air to manifest a 3D projection of Brian writhing on the ground.
Signs of the transformation were already clear. His skin turned deathly pale, his veins bulged a deep obsidian, and his eyes began to shift into a glowing crimson.
A pillar of energy rose from his back, flickering like invisible flames, and from every limb erupted a pain beyond the reach of words.
"He's surviving the injection..." Gorlam whispered, incredulous. "He was supposed to die. Previously, even the elite would have had their bodies shredded by this grade of blood!"
Lloyd smiled—a calm, satisfied smile, as if everything was proceeding exactly as choreographed.
"This boy... he is suitable. A classic tale of a righteous protagonist turning villain... exactly like the backstory of one of the playable characters... in this cursed game."
Gorlam pursed his lips.
"That cryptic talk again..." he muttered, shaking his head.
Meanwhile, on the ground, Brian began to scream. It wasn't a human cry; it sounded as if every cell in his body was self-destructing and reconstructing simultaneously. His muscles surged and contracted, his bones emitted a terrifying crackling sound, and his blood hissed in his veins.
[Transformation in progress... 72%]
The masked man watched in bewilderment. He didn't understand what was happening, but he suddenly felt a dense, dark energy saturating the air. The scent of iron, ash, and death... all mingled with a wind that turned the scene into a living nightmare.
"What... is this?!" the masked man whispered, taking a step back.
Brian, his eyes now entirely a brilliant crimson, opened his mouth and spoke. But the voice wasn't his—it was a duality of sounds, his own voice layered over something ancient, alien, and terrifying.
[New memories from the Amora Bloodline Essence unlocked!]
Suddenly, without warning, a wave of dark energy erupted from his body, sweeping through the area like a flood. It uprooted rocks and shredded metallic trees. Even the masked man was forced to shield himself with his arms, and despite all his power, he was pushed back.
[Transformation into a Royal Vampire: Complete!]
[Congratulations on becoming the First Son of Progenitor "Lloyd Amora"!]
[You have obtained the title: "Prince of Dusk"!]
[You have been granted authority over the First Main Path: "Alphabora"]
[You have obtained the title: "Noble Lich"]
A strange tattoo formed on his chest, resembling a black flower blooming in tongues of red flame. His entire body now looked like a perfectly crafted engine of war.
"Impossible!" the masked man cried out, seeing Brian rise again. His skin was now a smooth gray laced with red networks, and his pitch-black hair billowed in the wake of his own aura. His limbs were sharper, his nails like delicate claws.
On his forehead, an unintelligible mark—resembling the first letter of "Lloyd"—began to glow crimson.
"Who... are you?!" the masked man stammered.
Brian didn't answer. He only looked at him, and in his eyes was the sum of all the hatred, pain, and blood he had spilled.
In a blurred flash, he vanished.
He reappeared before the masked man with untraceable speed, delivering a punch so powerful it shattered the metal mask into two pieces, revealing his face for the first time. He was a man in his late thirties with cold features and icy blue eyes, but his cheekbone was now shattered and his nose was gushing blood.
"How...?" he choked out.
Brian grabbed him by the throat, hoisting him into the air. He breathed very slowly, as if savoring the moment.
"Sora..." he whispered. "Tara..."
Then he murmured words in a language the man had never heard.
Suddenly, darkness swallowed the clearing. The masked man's scream was short. One heartbeat... and then, everything ended.