Kiss of the vampire
"The Girl with the Sharp sword"
Mission 29: true Awakening!
Deyviel is shock to see Ghellee here, she supposed to be at Cebu this point in time not her. Things change way too much to the point he cannot track every single that supposed to happen . And the biggest change is Ghellee and elisia is causing. Or they were at the first place? He just didn't know it because Ghellee and elisia didn't meet that time at the first timeline ? Deyviel now is so shock because of the butterfly effect that he is experiencing right now. That things supposed not to be this way but happen or something or someone is also tempering In the timeline like him?
"This is bad… everything will become more complicated this time. Tch. I need to come up with a plan—quick," Deyviel muttered, his smile tight as he walked toward the group.
Ghellee let go of Elisia, her laughter bubbling out as she turned toward the approaching boys. "Hey, Denver! You didn't tell me you'd bring them too!" Her eyes settled on Deyviel, and for a split second, her smile faltered. Just a blink—but he caught it.
Denver scratched the back of his head, grinning. "Well, we didn't plan to drop by like this. But, you know, fate."
Alex waved lazily behind him. "More like Denver kept bugging us the whole trip, saying he needed to eat something that isn't field rations."
Elisia rolled her eyes. "Still the same glutton."
Deyviel stood a little apart, his eyes not leaving Ghellee. Now that he was closer, the memories were like static behind his eyes—blurry images from the other timeline. Her voice when she confessed. The way she cried when he turned her down. The firelight during their camping trip. How she sat close to him, pretending not to shiver just to be near.
It was all coming back now.
"Hey…" Ghellee said, softer now. "It's been a while, Deyviel."
He gave her a small nod. "Yeah. Too long."
They stared for a beat too long before Denver cut in again, cheerfully oblivious. "Alright, enough drama, let's get inside already. I'm starving, and I bet Auntie cooked something good!"
Elisia led the way, unlocking the gate. "You guys are lucky we finished cleaning today. Ghellee helped a lot."
"Only because you bribed me with ube ice cream," Ghellee shot back playfully.
The front yard still smelled faintly of dried herbs and polished wood. The porch creaked under their feet as they stepped in. Inside, the house had the same familiar charm—floral curtains, a small shrine near the kitchen, and a warm glow from the afternoon sun cutting through the living room window.
Shoes off, they settled around the low table, cold drinks already waiting on a tray.
Denver reached for one without hesitation. "Man, I miss this place. Feels like nothing changed."
Alex lounged across the couch, eyes half-lidded. "That's because it didn't."
Elisia sat beside Ghellee, who kept glancing at Deyviel from time to time. He could feel it, but said nothing. Just sat on the far end of the couch, pretending to check the edge of his glove.
"So, uh…" Ghellee cleared her throat. "How long are you guys staying?"
Deyviel glanced at her. "Not sure yet. Depends how things go."
"You make it sound like we're soldiers on a mission," Denver snorted.
"We kind of are," Alex muttered under his breath, and everyone went quiet for a second.
Just a flicker.
And then Elisia clapped her hands. "Well, for now, we're here. So enjoy it."
Ghellee smiled again, though it didn't quite reach her eyes.
Deyviel leaned back and closed his eyes for a moment. Complicated doesn't even begin to describe this.
The soft echo of his boots tapped through the narrow alley. Dim lamplight flickered overhead, casting broken shadows across the damp pavement. The stench of rust and wet garbage clung to the air, but Ben walked through it like a ghost—unbothered. His eyes scanned ahead, cold, sharp, and hungry for movement.
Two figures bolted past the alley's far end. A man and a woman. Pale. Frantic.
Vampires.
Ben turned his head slowly, like a predator sizing up the scent of fear. The couple ducked behind a dumpster, clutching each other tight. Not feral, not aggressive—they held a blood pack in trembling hands. Hospital-bought. Legal.
He didn't care.
One of them peeked from behind the dumpster, eyes widening when they saw the man standing in the dark. Black coat. Sword wrapped on his back. No visible aura—just a suffocating stillness.
"Shit," the man whispered, pulling his partner closer.
Ben stepped into view.
He didn't run. He didn't raise his weapon. He simply stared at them like the night itself had taken human form.
"W-We didn't do anything!" the woman cried. "We bought this! From the city blood bank! We're neutral!"
Ben's eyes narrowed slightly.
"I know," he said flatly.
They flinched, confused.
"I'm not here to kill you."
A pause.
"But if you were lying, if I so much as catch a scent of fresh blood on your lips next time…"
He stepped forward—one boot, loud, deliberate.
"…you won't have time to beg."
And then he was gone. A blur between shadows. The wind didn't even rustle as he vanished down the alley, like a bad dream finally blinking out of existence.
The two vampires slumped to the ground, breath shaking.
"…What the hell was that?" the man whispered.
"Ben Rayleigh," the woman muttered, barely audible. "The strongest vampire hunter. The one they say doesn't sleep."
Ben Rayleigh stood atop the old chapel roof, the moonlight tracing the edges of his coat like a silver outline. His eyes, sharp and unblinking, peered down at the alley below. From this height, the city felt quieter—less chaotic—but no less dangerous.
Ben's silhouette loomed as the moon slipped behind the clouds.
Only a faint whisper remained behind them: "Tch… so much has changed. I need to deal with him now."
Then silence.
Ben had vanished.
Back inside the modest house, laughter echoed in the small living room.
"Wait—wait, I swear, that guard almost cried when you said you were the princess's personal sword polisher," Denver howled, slapping his knee.
"Hey! It worked, didn't it?" Alex grinned proudly, leaning back into the tattered couch.
Even Ghellee, seated quietly with a warm drink in her hands, smiled faintly.
Deyviel didn't laugh.
He stared at his untouched tea, brows slightly furrowed, jaw tight. Something gnawed at the back of his mind. He tried to shake it off—tried to join their warmth—but it lingered like a whisper just out of reach.
Di mapakali.
His fingers tapped lightly on the table, a slow, rhythmic beat of restlessness. His thoughts ran back to that one moment… the night he saved Elisia.
It was a small choice.
A heroic one.
But in this loop… even small acts tipped everything off balance.
"This is wrong," he thought. "She was never supposed to survive that night… and yet here she is. And now… Ghellee too?"
He glanced toward the girl across the room. The way she sipped her tea quietly. The weight in her eyes. She wasn't just a survivor.
She was a harbinger.
"Ghellee… the key to all the Hell Gates."
His lips parted in a breathless realization.
"Her being here this early means Elisia's already a target… by them. By the vampires. And maybe worse."
His eyes narrowed.
He had to warn the others—Alex, Denver, and the Hunters.
But how?
He couldn't risk revealing the truth. Couldn't let anyone know he was looping. That he knew what came next… or what might come.
Not yet.
He clicked his tongue.
Time was running out.
And it wasn't just the world that was breaking around him anymore.
It was the future.
Elisia leaned forward, her voice soft but steady.
"Deyviel... you okay?"
Her question pierced the air between their laughter.
Denver and Alex stopped mid-chuckle, their grins fading as they turned to look at him. Even Ghellee, who had been quietly watching them all, tilted her head slightly, waiting for his answer.
Deyviel blinked. He hadn't realized how deeply he'd been scowling, how tightly he was gripping the side of the chair. The weight in his chest didn't ease, but he forced himself to shift, relax, and glance away.
"I'm fine," he said, waving his hand a little too quickly. "Just tired, I guess. Haven't had a real break in days."
Alex narrowed his eyes. "You sure that's it? You're spacing out. That's not normal Deyviel mode."
"Yeah," Denver chimed in. "You look like you saw a ghost or something."
Deyviel forced a chuckle. "Trust me, if I saw a ghost, I'd let you two deal with it first."
They laughed again, but it wasn't as loud this time. The room lightened just a little, though the tension didn't vanish completely. Elisia's eyes lingered on him for a moment longer, searching, but she didn't press.
Ghellee was still quiet. She hadn't asked anything—but Deyviel could feel her eyes on him. Observing. Calculating. Like she knew something was off too.
He leaned back and took a slow breath through his nose.
No more cracks. I need to hold this together. Not yet.
"So…" he said, changing the subject, "What's the plan from here? I mean, you guys clearly weren't expecting visitors tonight."
Alex jumped on the shift in tone, grateful. "Hell no we weren't. Especially not with you punching your way through doors like a freaking action star!"
"And scaring the hell outta me!" Denver added.
The laughter returned, this time with a bit more ease.
But Deyviel's thoughts stayed elsewhere—locked on Ghellee, on the gates, and on how fragile the timeline now felt under his feet.
KNOCK! KNOCK!
The sudden rapping on the front door sliced through the light atmosphere like a blade. Everyone went silent.
Deyviel's eyes narrowed instantly.
"That's not a neighbor," he said coldly, standing up.
Alex blinked. "What? What do you—?"
"Alex, call Ethan. Now," Deyviel ordered, voice sharp and low. "Tell him I'll explain everything later. Just do it."
"Shit, what's going on?" Denver asked, already moving as Deyviel turned toward the front.
Deyviel didn't answer—he was already halfway to the door. His senses screamed at him. Something cold, something hungry was waiting on the other side.
"Denver," Deyviel added, not looking back, "Get Elisia and Ghellee to the bunker. Don't argue. Go."
Denver's smile vanished. He grabbed both girls by the wrist. "You heard him. Move!"
"But—!" Elisia tried to resist, but Denver's grip was firm. Ghellee, silent but visibly shaken, followed without a word. The trapdoor leading to the hidden underground shelter creaked open as they disappeared below.
Another knock.
But this time, softer.
Like the thing on the other side was playing with them now.
Deyviel stepped forward, his palm already glowing faintly.
"Let's get this over with…"
He yanked the door open.
Standing there were two figures in black. Pale skin. Glowing red eyes. Fangs.
Vampires.
But not feral ones. They were dressed neatly—too neatly. Uniforms. One even wore a faint smile.
"Good evening," the taller one said, his voice silky. "Sorry for disturbing. We're looking for two girls. Lost... friends of ours."
Deyviel's knuckles cracked as he clenched his fist.
"You should've brought a coffin with you."
And without warning—he lunged.
Deyviel didn't wait.
He launched forward before the lead vampire even finished blinking.
CRACK!
His fist connected squarely with the taller one's jaw, sending him flying off the porch and crashing into a streetlamp across the street. Sparks burst from the metal pole as the vampire's body bent it backward.
"Tch... fast." the second vampire muttered—and moved.
Deyviel ducked just in time, the third vampire's claws slicing through the wooden doorframe behind him like paper. Splinters flew.
He rolled across the floor and kicked off the wall, flipping back to his feet.
The second vampire appeared in front of him, thrusting a dagger toward his throat.
Clink!
Deyviel caught the vampire's wrist. His eyes glowed faintly—not fully transformed, not yet, but the blood inside him was starting to awaken.
"You picked the wrong house," he growled.
Then he twisted the vampire's arm until bone snapped. The creature screamed—and Deyviel grabbed its head and slammed it down into the tiled floor, cracking both.
But the third was already behind him.
"Deyviel—!" Alex's voice echoed from inside.
Too late.
Fangs bit deep into Deyviel's shoulder from behind.
Blood spilled instantly.
"GRAAAGHH!" He spun, elbowing the attacker hard enough to cave in its cheek.
"Fucking leeches!"
The tall one, now back from the streetlamp wreckage, wiped blood from his mouth and chuckled. "Impressive. You don't even smell fully turned… and yet you fight like one of us."
"Wrong," Deyviel said, spitting blood. "I fight better."
He dropped into stance—low, grounded. The Yamato wasn't with him. No sword, no backup.
Only instinct.
Only rage.
The two remaining vampires rushed him simultaneously—fangs out, claws glowing with cursed enchantments. One went low, sweeping his leg. The other lunged high, aiming for his throat.
Deyviel jumped.
Not dodging—redirecting.
He stepped on the low attacker's shoulder mid-air, twisted, then grabbed the high one by the throat.
And slammed him into the porch pillar with all his weight.
It snapped in half. The roof creaked, dust falling from the edges.
But the third vampire—the fastest of them—recovered, rushing in from behind again with a dagger coated in silver.
He's learning, Deyviel thought, sidestepping—
—but not fast enough.
The blade slashed across his ribs.
"Ghhh—!"
Deyviel stumbled back.
The tall one grinned and pulled another blade from his belt. "We were only meant to capture the girls, but no one said anything about leaving you alive."
Deyviel smiled. Blood dripped from his lip.
"Oh good," he said hoarsely. "That means I don't have to hold back."
Then his body pulsed.
Just for a second—but enough.
His muscles tightened. His pupils shrank. Blood on the ground trembled.
The air turned heavy.
The three vampires paused. Their predator instincts screamed.
"...No way," one of them whispered. "That's… progenitor blood…"
Deyviel's voice dropped, low and quiet. Almost detached.
"Your mistake was knocking on my door."
CRACK—!
The air exploded outward as Deyviel's Ki surged, invisible pressure rippling like shockwaves from the core of his chest. The earth beneath him trembled. His blood soaked shirt fluttered in the pulse of power as the vampires staggered back, instinctively shielding themselves.
"What the hell is that?" one of them hissed. "He's not supposed to have Ki! He's not even fully turned!"
But Deyviel didn't answer. He couldn't. Something inside him had snapped awake—not just survival instincts, but a buried, ancient reaction, awakened by the vampire's bomb-blood enchantment.
The tall vampire stepped forward again. His eyes glowed hotter, more unstable now. He raised his hand—and the air shimmered.
A blood sigil ignited over his chest, pulsing red and violet. Veins along his arm bulged, glowing as his own blood heated, vibrating dangerously.
"I'm one of the Nine," he snarled. "Bomb Blood—your organs, your Ki, your very bloodstream is now a fuse. I just have to think the word—"
"Detonate."
BOOM—!
Deyviel's body vanished in a violent burst of red smoke and pressure, debris flung outward in all directions. The porch erupted. The windows shattered. Inside the house, Alex flinched and threw up his arm. Denver shielded the hatch to the bunker. Ghellee and Elisia clutched each other as the ground quaked.
"DEYVIEL—!" Alex shouted.
The tall vampire smirked, brushing splinters from his coat.
But then…
A shape stepped out of the smoke.
Not limping.
Walking. Slowly.
Steam rolled off Deyviel's shoulders. His shirt burned away. His skin glowed faintly under the moonlight, and his eyes—
His eyes weren't human anymore.
"...What…?" the vampire gasped.
Deyviel exhaled, and the smoke parted.
His veins were glowing blue. His blood had changed.
His Ki had adapted.
"I don't know what you just did," he said quietly, voice low and vibrating like an echo across steel, "but my body disagreed with it."
He looked at his own hand. His fingers shimmered faintly, as if wrapped in translucent scales of light.
Anti-explosion resistance? No—blood destabilization nullified? Or was it something deeper?
"My body's never done this before…" he muttered. "I should be dead. But instead…"
He looked back at the vampire. "I'm fine."
The tall vampire snarled and raised his other hand—blood magic spiraling up again.
But it fizzled.
He blinked. Confused.
"My bomb blood… it's not responding."
Deyviel looked at his palm, flexing it slowly. "I didn't heal through it. I changed through it."
The second vampire lunged—but this time, Deyviel didn't dodge.
His foot shot forward like a hammer. One step. One impact.
CRACK!
The vampire's chest collapsed inward. Bones shattered. Blood spewed from his mouth mid-air as he was launched across the yard, rolling limp into the tree line.
The third vampire panicked, turning to flee.
Deyviel was already behind him.
His palm struck the back of the vampire's neck. There was no sound—only a dull thud and a body falling to the dirt like a sack of broken parts.
He turned to the last one.
The tall vampire. The Bomb-Blood.
Now sweating.
"Who the fuck are you?" he whispered. "You're not just a hunter."
Deyviel paused.
That was the question, wasn't it?
Who was he?
He remembered the pain. The way the blood inside him had restructured, rewritten itself on the fly. As if it wasn't just reacting—but choosing the countermeasure based on pure intent.
> Anything that can hurt me…
That's what the power felt like.
It wasn't Ki. It wasn't a spell. It was adaptation on a primal level. Life-defining, soul-wired survival. He had always wondered why he could shrug off fatal wounds, why powers always seemed to misfire near him after the first blow. But this time…
This was confirmation.
He didn't loop time.
He rewrote it inside himself.
His gaze locked on the vampire. "I'm the reason monsters like you don't sleep well."
The vampire's hand twitched toward another blood sigil.
But Deyviel didn't give him the chance.
FLASH—!
One step. One punch.
A solid hit to the gut—not to kill, but to paralyze. The energy transfer was so sharp it silenced the night. The vampire coughed once, eyes bulging—
Then fell.
Out cold.
Deyviel stood over the crumpled form, chest heaving, blood dripping down his side.
Alex stepped out from the doorway, blade in hand, wide-eyed.
"What the hell just happened?" he asked.
Deyviel looked back, still breathing hard.
"I'll explain later," he said.
But in his head, the only thought ringing was:
> Why do I have this power?
Why now?
And why… even while triggering the time loop… I can still use it?
He clenched his fist.
This wasn't just survival anymore.
It was war.
To be continued....