In a world where ancient vampire magic feeds on blood, where every drop of life essence holds the power of the progenitor, there is an unbreakable rule: without blood, there is no magic. But not just any blood — only the blood of Dracula's descendants can enhance a vampire's power, filling their being with unimaginable might.
What would happen if someone dared to consume the blood of every descendant of the ancient progenitor? What would become of the creature that feasts on the blood of its kin, absorbing their magic, their essence, their immortal power?
And what if this vampire dares to consume Dracula's very blood? What would he become then? Would he become a god among vampires, or would the absorbed power tear his essence apart?
Nomat didn't know the answers to these questions. No, he deliberately turned away from them, fearing what might happen to his soul, to his essence, if he found those answers. He feared losing himself in the whirlpool of boundless power, dissolving in the ocean of ancient magic.
But now was not the time for philosophical reflections. Before him stood an enemy — a being superior to him in every way. A creature whose power and magic eclipsed everything Nomat had ever seen. He didn't know its goals, didn't understand its motives, and didn't even strive to.
The only thing that mattered was the attack on his essence. Death? It didn't scare Nomat; he had died many times. But the attempt to erase his memories, destroy his personality, turn him into an empty shell — that was unacceptable.
When the enemy tried to strip him of the most important thing — his essence, his memory, his «self» — something ancient and terrible awakened within Nomat. A rage like a raging flame engulfed his being. Hatred so powerful it could destroy entire worlds flooded his consciousness.
For the first time in his existence, Nomat felt such all-consuming anger. For the first time, he knew the true meaning of the word «hatred». And now, consumed by this bottomless fury, he was ready for anything. He would become a shadow, a nightmare, retribution for the one who dared to encroach on his essence.
His thirst for revenge would be stronger than eternity, his anger brighter than stars, and his retribution more merciless than death itself.
Nomat.
«Magic Berserk» flickered. If before I was enveloped by just an enormous amount of magic, now I was surrounded by pure «Chaos Magic». The most dangerous magic I possess. It has never been fully controllable.
In short, using it in this form is pure suicide.
But I see no other way out. This creature can analyze magic, and I'm sure it has already analyzed «Magic Berserk», just waiting for the moment when I would decide to take its attack on my body.
But now that's impossible. How can you analyze magic that is constantly in chaos? If not for the armor on my body, this magic would have torn me apart in the first seconds.
I am using my entire magical potential. I have no idea what will happen now, because after devouring Dracula, my blood was purer than his. Now I am something surpassing even Dracula himself.
I enveloped the sword in «Chaos Magic» and rushed towards the enemy. It immediately attacked, but now I saw its strike clearly, not blurred. When its attack was within arm's reach, I struck the sword with fury.
Flash.
I wasn't torn apart into atoms, unlike the area around me — I remained relatively intact. Visually, this attack had no effect on me, but inside…
It was as if the Winged Horror had slammed my head into a mountain. My insides were burning, my hands were shaking from the recoil of the blow, and the Chaos Magic began to consume even more blood. My heart was pounding frantically.
I gripped the sword tighter and moved forward resolutely.
With each blow, my bones trembled with renewed force, but the blade held.
A two-handed sword. This is my first two-handed sword, though it may look flashy at first glance.
In fact, I tempered this weapon in the Forge of Ancestors. In its creation, I used fragments of artifacts from the past — once they were other two-handed swords.
I tempered it in the Forge of Ancestors, fragment by fragment. Every time I killed carriers of Dracula's blood or my kin, I always used this sword. I tempered it not only with fragments of artifacts but also with the blood of my enemies.
Until one day it changed. Outwardly, it remained the same two-handed sword, but when you hold it… An invisible weight appears in your hands, as if I'm holding a damn mountain.
No, of course, it didn't acquire any superpowers like destroying enemies with a single blow or anything else, but not many could block such a strike. Hell, in my memory, only Solarus the Flawless was able to block it; perhaps Dracula too, but at that time I was in complete combat frenzy and I'm not even sure how I killed him.
That's why this is my most dangerous weapon. It's the only one that could withstand Chaos Magic. I tried using other weapons for the trick I'm using now, but they were all destroyed almost immediately. No, they were quite capable of conducting other magic quite decently, but when it comes to Chaos Magic, they all immediately crack. Even artifacts.
Now I was on the verge of death or madness; any mistake on my part would end with Chaos Magic tearing me apart, and if by some miracle I could survive, the enemy would tear me apart.
No, of course, I could just die and then appear in my castle, in my coffin. But something was wrong; my blood boils just at the thought of it. Perhaps this enemy can truly kill me? Or is it the hatred I now feel for trying to turn me into a vegetable that doesn't even allow me to think about losing?
I don't care.
I will fight even if I'm blown to atoms.
I feel capable of it.