Inside of a chamber that sat at the very heart of the Crimson Veil Citadel, buried so deep beneath the twilight that no sunlight real or false had ever touched its walls. The air itself was thick with preserved blood-mist that drifted in slow, lazy spirals, catching the glow of a single floating chandelier made entirely from crystallized crimson.
Duke Alucard Nocturne sat at the head, tall and gaunt, silver-white braid resting across one shoulder like a sleeping serpent. His blood-filled glass reflected nothing, not even his own liquid-crimson eyes.
To his right sat Isolde Nocturne, petite and doll-like, porcelain skin glowing faintly beneath mourning gowns that shifted between solid silk and crimson mist. Her smile revealed too many fangs, each one sharp as winter's first frost.
To his left waited Damon Nocturne, eight feet ten inches of living war machine, dark crimson skin stretched over muscle like forged iron. Glowing runes crawled across his bare chest and arms, and his wild mane of black hair crackled with red lightning that never quite touched the ground.
Across from the Alucard sat Ester Nocturne, slender and timeless, short silver hair framing a face that could belong to a seventeen-year-old assassin or a ten-thousand-year-old ghost. Her eyes shifted from frost-white to arterial red with every breath, and her void-silk leathers drank every sound in the room.
Duke Alucard spoke as his spies and workers moved with haste around the table, scrolls turning to ash the moment they were read. The moment he had felt the peak of Sword Aura coming from the Crucible, he had chimed in instantly.
Through a projection he had watched for two hours as Ash fought using nothing but the sword.
In two hundred fights (yes, in just two hours) Ash had faced two hundred SSS-ranks.
He had used his Sword Aura in different forms: complete manifestation that changed the area he willed inside his mana sense, to his sword domain, to wrapping it around his blade like living cosmos, to extending it into invisible threads that severed blood before the enemy even bled, to condensing it into a single point that erased attacks on contact.
Ester spoke first, voice so soft only the three in the room could possibly hear.
"There is no information on him. Only two fox factions exist on Astralis—Abyssal and Solar. Unless he comes from another world entirely…"
"Tsk. Why waste time researching when we can just kill him?" Isolde's smile widened, fangs glinting.
"It wouldn't matter if he's a threat or not by then."
Damon laughed, the sound like grinding mountains.
"I agree... and so what if he has a backing? Would they dare move against the Nocturne?"
Alucard swirled his glass, watching the blood coat the crystal in perfect spirals.
"Killing him would be too wasteful."
His voice cut through the room like a cold blade. "He has a max sword aura as a mere SSS rank. I say...we turn him into a vampire."
The room became deathly quiet at the sound of this.
"That's nuts!" Isolde exclaimed while shaking her head. "True it may not be difficult... if he weren't already at the peak of his bloodline." She said pointing out to his ten tails.
"Right... In the entire Venia Galaxy, I've never heard of a fox surpassing ten," Ester added quietly.
"So, he dies!" Damon roared, rising so fast his chair exploded into splinters.
Alucard sighed and lifted one pale hand.
Damon made it ten steps before the chamber doors opened on their own.
Inside walked a man that looked barely thirty, he was lean and unassuming. With shoulder-length ash-grey hair tied loosely, pale silver eyes that seem permanently half-lidded with boredom. Dressed in simple black training robes and carrying a single, unadorned longsword in a wooden sheath.
Damon froze mid-step.
"Kaelthyr…"
The others turned, surprise flickering across their faces.
Alucard's lips curved faintly.
"Even the fox has interested you?"
Kaelthyr walked to the table's edge, voice quiet, final.
"The fox stays alive. I will train him personally from now on."
Not a request.
A statement written in the blood of anyone who disagreed.
The chamber stayed silent long after the doors closed behind Kaelthyr, the echo of his footsteps swallowed by the blood-mist that clung to every surface like a living shroud.
Isolde's porcelain face betrayed open shock, her too-many fangs catching the crimson light from the floating chandelier.
Even the obsidian walls seemed to hold its breath.
"That monster wants to train the fox?" she finally asked, voice sharp enough to cut silk.
Ester's whisper drifted across the table, soft as falling ash.
"…That even surprises me…"
Damon shook his head, massive frame settling back into his seat as though he never planned to leave in the first place.
Alucard alone smiled, swirling his chalice of blood so the surface reflected the coliseum projection like a private mirror.
His liquid-crimson eyes gleamed with quiet amusement.
"Oh, he's about to fight one of the champions…" the Sovereign murmured.
"Tsk," Isolde scoffed, gowns flickering between solid and mist. "No matter his talent in the sword, he will die if he fights a Calamity cultivator. Kaelthyr should go save his new pet."
All eyes turned back to the projection just as the arena gates rumbled open.
-----
Ash stood at the center of the blood-stained glass, sword resting lazily on one shoulder. Nine hundred fights in five hours had left the floor cracked and steaming, yet not a single drop of blood marred his white-and-rose coat. His ten tails swayed slow and hypnotic, rose tips glowing faintly in the torchlight. He had been purely honing his sword talent more and more. He knew what intent was.... knew the power it held, and he wanted it bad.
Across from him stepped Shaun Nocturne... he was tall, lean, with skin the color of fresh bone beneath a cloak of living shadow. He had Long silver hair spilled down his back like molten moonlight, and his eyes were twin pools of absolute black that drank every flicker of light.
Ash appraised him the moment he walked out the tunnel.
[Shaun Nocturne
Race - Vampire (Nocturne Bloodline (Calamity))
Age - 671 Years Old
Rank - First Calamity
MP - 950 million
Law(s) - Darkness 85%, Blood Continuity 100%
Calamity Law (s) -???]
----
'Tsk, I can't even see the most important thing.' Ash grumbled internally as the man spoke out.
Shaun walked forward with hands clasped behind his back, voice smooth as spilled wine.
"Nine hundred straight wins… impressive. But don't you think you should save your life?"
Ash tilted his head as his grin sharpened.
"Save my life?"
Shaun frowned at the expression, already shaking his head. This man was the tenth champion of the crucible. He respected talent and winning 900 straight matches, in a few hours was worthy of respect.
"Are you sure... you have potenti--"
"Fuck you!"
Ash blitzed.
|Absolute Density|
The weight of thousands of mountains condensed into his descending blade, sword aura blazing around the edge like a living cosmos.
BOOOOM!!!!!
Space twisted and nearly fractured, yet the blade stopped dead centimeters from Shaun's throat.
Shaun's eyes bled to perfect black.
He spoke no words.
|Calamity Law – Edict of the Blood Moon|
HUMMMMMM!!!!!
In the space of a single heartbeat the entire coliseum vanished beneath a tide of thick crimson mist.
To the spectators it looked like ordinary fog.
To Ash and Shaun, reality had already changed.
They stood on an endless ocean of liquid blood that reflected a sky so violently red it hurt to look at. Seven colossal blood moons hung overhead, each one dripping slow rivers of scarlet that never quite reached the surface.
The air tasted of iron and eternity.
Shaun floated above the ocean, no longer in front of Ash, voice echoing from everywhere and nowhere
"Ants..." He muttered looking at Ash who was still in the same attacking posture.
|Dawn of Seven Hells (Calamity)| - 25% MP
Seven abyssal demons erupted from the blood-sea around Ash.... each one of them hundreds of feet tall, skin like torn night, spears forged from pure condensed blood).
Their roars shook the moons themselves.
ROARRRRR!!!!!!
Seven spears descended at once, each one fast enough to pierce stars.
BOOOOOOM!!!!!!