The air in Mage City? Thick as hell. Not with smog or anything you'd actually see—nah, it was magic, pure and weird, sloshing around invisible, squeezing your lungs like a storm about to blow the roof off. Lanterns along the stone paths didn't just flicker—they practically shivered, like they were about to pack up and leave if things got any sketchier.
Oban hit the ground in the middle of everything, boots clacking on cobblestones. One second he was all shadows, the next, bam—blinded by the flare of lanterns. Took him a minute to catch his bearings, eyes squinting against all that light after stumbling through his world's never-ending gloom.
And then it happened.
Ding!
A translucent screen blinked open in front of his eyes. The familiar, cold blue glow of the system greeted him.
[System Status Updated]
[Current Strength: 190]
[Current Speed: 175]
[Endurance: 160]
[Blood Manipulation – Phase 3 Active]
[Daily Reward: +200 Coins]
Oban's heart thudded. He had been waiting for this moment—the chance to see himself measured, ranked, judged. Numbers gave clarity. They showed what words could not.
Strength… speed… endurance… all higher than before.His lips curled into the faintest smile. He was growing.
But another line caught his eye.
[Blood Manipulation – Phase 3: Use blood as energy, enhancement, knowledge, magic, weapons, defense.]
The words sank into him like iron nails. So this is the gift… His body tingled with the thought of using blood as more than just power—of shaping it into shields, blades, or even wisdom.
Klein's voice pulled him back. "Eyes forward, Oban. Don't drift."
Oban blinked, shutting the system screen with a thought. The city was not waiting for him to admire numbers. The city was already awake.
From the tall spires of Mage City, bells rang. One, then two, then a dozen, their iron voices calling out across the night.
"They know we are here," Allisa said, her voice calm, detached. Her hand rested on the hilt of her blade.
"They always knew," Klein replied. His crimson gaze swept the rooftops. "The mages are not fools. They will not meet us in the streets like common soldiers. They will strike from above, from shadows, from every corner."
Oban swallowed. His eyes darted around the narrow lanes and towering structures. The city felt alive, watching them, judging them.
"Stay tight," one of the veterans growled. His name was Darion, a broad-shouldered vampire with scars crisscrossing his face. "If we scatter, they'll cut us down one by one."
The twelve formed a circle, backs to each other. Their movements were disciplined, rehearsed. Oban mirrored them, his body tense, his hands slightly raised in preparation.
And then… silence.
The bells stopped. The lanterns steadied. For a brief heartbeat, the city was still.
"Too quiet," Allisa muttered.
A flicker of light answered her. On the rooftop to their left, a mage appeared, staff glowing like a piece of the moon. He did not speak. He raised his hand, and fire bloomed.
A river of flame roared down toward them.
Oban reacted without thinking. His blood surged, answering his will. A crimson shield shimmered in front of him, solid as iron. The flames smashed against it, bursting in sparks that showered across the cobblestones.
The shield cracked, but it held.
Oban's breath hitched. It works. Blood… it really works.
Klein moved at the same time. He leapt upward, faster than the eye could follow, his claws slashing through the mage's chest. The man fell before his fire faded.
But his fall was the signal.
From every rooftop, every alley, the mages appeared. Dozens of them, their robes glowing with runes, staffs raised high. Fire, lightning, and stone rained down. The night erupted in chaos.
"Circle hold!" Darion bellowed.
The vampires roared back, their voices like thunder. Shields of blood, walls of shadow, blades of crimson energy—all rose to meet the mage's onslaught. The city lit up as if dawn had come early, every clash of magic and blood painting the streets in firelight.
Oban ducked under a bolt of lightning. His blood surged again, wrapping his arm in a crimson gauntlet. He swung upward, and the gauntlet stretched into a blade, cutting through the air. A mage screamed as it tore through his ward, collapsing against the cobblestones.
I can feel it, Oban thought, his pulse racing. This power… it's mine now. I can shape it however I want.
A flash of white caught his eyes. Allisa stood ahead, her blade dancing like silver lightning. She moved with precision, every strike cutting down spells before they could land. Yet her face was calm, unreadable, as though she were practicing in a courtyard, not standing in the middle of war.
Klein, by contrast, was fury given form. He blurred through the streets, a streak of crimson shadow, his claws tearing through mage after mage. Their spells collapsed before they even knew he was upon them.
And yet, for every mage that fell, another took their place. The city was endless, its towers hiding more and more enemies.
Oban panted, sweat running down his face. His blood blade flickered in his hand, growing heavier with each swing. How many are there?
A voice echoed through the night. Calm. Cold. Commanding.
"Enough."
Oban froze. Everyone froze.
From the far end of the street, a figure appeared. His robe was black, lined with gold. His staff was taller than any man, its tip glowing with a silver flame that seemed to swallow the air around it.
Yuji.
His eyes locked on the vampires, and the battle stilled. Mages stepped back, clearing the street. The fire and lightning faded, leaving only the sound of heavy breathing.
Yuji raised his staff, and the ground itself trembled. The cobblestones split, and a wave of energy surged outward, forcing even Klein to retreat a step.
"So you came," Yuji said softly. His voice carried in the silence, reaching every corner of the street. "Twelve shadows walking into their graves."
Oban's chest tightened. He could feel it—the weight of Yuji's presence. This was no ordinary mage. This was a force born of rage, sharpened by years of pain.
Darion growled. "Then let us show him whose grave it will be."
The vampires roared again. The circle broke.
And the First Clash Just Begin