Steel clashed.
No blood arts. No clones. No domains. Just two blades.
Rin's silver aura traced every motion like a thread through fate. The Elder's Crimson Mourne crackled with killing intent, each swing backed by centuries of savagery.
The first strike split the floor. Stone shattered under the Elder's weight as he pressed down, his strength monstrous. Rin slid back, sparks flying as his feet carved twin trails across the ground.
Then Rin shifted. His blade snapped upward, breaking the pressure, and the clash became a storm.
Steel rang against steel, again and again, faster than the eye could follow. Each swing of Crimson Mourne was heavy, crushing, like an avalanche of blood. Each cut of Rin's Codex was clean, exact, like lightning splitting the sky.
They vanished and reappeared in blurs.
A downward cleave—Rin deflected, spun, and countered with a horizontal slash that shaved a lock of silver hair from his opponent's head. The Elder grinned, twisting, parrying with the flat of his blade, and brought his knee up like a hammer. Rin ducked, sliding past, his sword grazing across the Elder's ribs.
The air cracked with every exchange. Stone pillars split. The ceiling groaned. Each impact thundered like cannon fire.
The Elder pressed harder, strength like a storm, blade screaming arcs of crimson energy. Rin gave ground, only to pivot, redirect, and strike where no guard should have opened.
A thousand blows in seconds. Neither yielded.
For the cadets outside the cocoon, all they saw were flashes—white steel and crimson arcs colliding in an endless storm. To them, it wasn't a duel. It was two gods carving the world apart with nothing but swords.
Then—an instant of silence.
The Elder lunged, overhead slash splitting air itself. Rin sidestepped, Codex in reverse grip, and dragged his blade across the Elder's chest as they passed. Both landed on opposite ends of the field, blades low, breathing steady.
A line of blood traced down Crimson Mourne's wielder.
The Elder touched it, smiled, and raised his blade again. "So you can keep up."
Rin lifted his sword in silence. His aura sharpened. The storm began again.
---
The Elder Vampire stood tall, Crimson Mourne humming with hunger. His third eye burned like a bloody sun.
Rin braced, blade steady, but the moment the Elder moved, the world blurred.
A single step—and he was already there.
Crimson Mourne cleaved down. Rin blocked, sparks flying, but the force shook his arms to the bone. From the side, blood whips lashed out, biting into his skin. The Elder's off-hand gestured, and spikes erupted from the floor, forcing Rin to leap back—only for a clone to slash from behind.
Steel rang in rapid succession.
One, two, three… ten strikes in a single heartbeat.
Rin's shoulder split. Blood seeped down his side. His breath came sharp, every block slower, heavier.
"You're skilled," the Elder whispered, fangs gleaming, "but skill means nothing before eternity."
Aura crashes down like a wave.
He merges Blood Arts + Demon Blade Arts, slashing in arcs that send spears of coagulated blood flying while his blade techniques aim at Rin.
But rin managed to avoid it.
Crimson Mourne descended again, wreathed in blood. Rin parried—barely—but the shock threw him to the ground. A whip coiled around his ankle, dragging him forward. The Elder raised his blade high for the kill.
---
Rin's eyes flickered toward his friends outside the cocoon. Jae-seok's face pale with fear. So-yeon staggering but refusing to leave. Hyun-woo trembling, flame guttering. Min Jae-seok already on his knees, mana near spent.
If he lost here—no one would make it out alive
Rin closed his eyes.
The Codex whispered within him.
"The blade engraved in the soul endures."
He exhaled. His aura condensed. The frantic flaring stilled into a razor-thin line. His stance shifted, seamless, calm.
When the Elder's blade fell—Rin caught it. Effortless.
Steel screamed, but this time it was Crimson Mourne that shook.
The Elder's eyes widened. "What—?"
Rin moved.
Every strike became inevitability. Blood whips fell before they touched him. Clones dissolved before they lunged. His sword cut not wildly, but with surgical grace—like he was tracing lines already written in the world.
The Elder staggered back, each attack parried, each shield shattered
---
Rin's blade gleamed, aura razor-thin.
The Elder lunged, but every strike was parried, every blood whip severed mid-crack. His movements slowed—not because Rin grew faster, but because inevitability itself bent around the Codex.
Then Rin moved.
One slash at the heart.
Another at the throat.
Three more, seamless, cutting through shield and flesh alike.
In a blur of silver, the Elder's body was carved into a dozen pieces—arms, torso, head scattering like falling dice across the crimson stone.
For a heartbeat, silence.
The cadets outside gasped. Even the oppressive dungeon air seemed to still. Rin lowered his sword, aura dimming as though the battle had already been won.
And then—
The severed flesh quivered. The pieces drew together, stitching back with grotesque speed. In seconds, the Elder stood whole again, lips curling into a feral smile.
"Not bad," he hissed. "If you can carve me once, perhaps you are worthy to see what kings wield."
His third eye blazed open, brighter than ever. Crimson Mourne pulsed, veins glowing like rivers of fire.
Rin's eyes narrowed. He could already feel the world bending, screaming at what was about to be unleashed.
The Elder raised his blade high and spoke:
>"Blood red, pale skin, moonlight draw me in. Quench my thirst, coursing veins, let my body feel no pain"
A crushing thuuuuum… thuuuuum rolled across the chamber, heavy like war drums muffled under water. Each syllable cracked the air, leaving behind sharp static hisses—shrrrkk… krzzzt…—as though the atmosphere itself was tearing apart, followed by a second of silence as he whispered Blood Abyss.
---
The cocoon pulsed once, and then Rin was swallowed whole.
Inside—endless blood. A crimson ocean under a pale, broken moon. The air was thick, heavy, every breath tasting of iron. And before him stood the Elder, body glowing faintly with veins that pulsed in time with the dimension itself. His Crimson Mourne sword radiated hunger.
Then he moved.
The Elder's third eye flared, and from a single slash, whips of blood lashed out like serpents, dozens snapping toward Rin. At the same time, the ground itself erupted into blood spikes, forcing him to dodge high into the air.
"Drown."
The Elder's voice echoed from everywhere at once. His body split into blood clones, each a perfect mirror, darting around with light-like speed but sharper, more predatory. The clones wove whips and spears into a storm, a forest of blood-blades filling the sky.
Rin's aura flared thin, silver. Calm. His blade traced one cut—Against the Grain.
The storm parted.
Half the blood spears vanished before they could even form. A clone dissolved mid-lunge, severed before it struck.
But the Elder only laughed, spreading his arms. The blood around them rippled like water, forming an autonomous shield that floated in layers across his body. His movements blurred, and in an instant he was right in front of Rin, sword and blood converging.
Steel rang.
Rin blocked, but the Elder's sword art was monstrous. Every clash carried a secondary strike—a whip from the side, a spike from below, a clone lunging from the rear. It was like fighting ten masters at once.
Rin's arms burned with strain, cuts opening across his side and shoulder. His blade gleamed thinly as he countered, always on the edge of being overwhelmed.
"You bleed, human," the Elder whispered, fangs glistening, "but I do not. I am eternal. In here—I am infinite."
The ground erupted, and Rin was hurled into the air by a massive blood geyser. The Elder blurred behind him, sword raised, clones aligning for a killing strike.
And then—
Rin exhaled.
His aura shifted. No longer clashing, no longer resisting. His blade lowered slightly, every motion inevitable. He became stillness itself, his eyes calm as he cut—not at the attacks, but at the reasons behind them. Blood whips collapsed before they touched him. Clones dissolved mid-strike. The Elder's blade froze an inch before his throat.
"What—"
Rin's sword glowed faintly, silver cutting through crimson. His voice was quiet, solemn.
"…Cause Severance."
He struck once.
The Elder's shield shattered. His arm was cleaved—and this time, it did not regrow. Panic flooded his face as the truth sank in: the cause of his regeneration had been cut away. His immortality was gone.
For the first time in centuries, the Elder staggered back. "No… no, this—this is impossible…"
He tried to run, body trembling, blood collapsing around him like a dying tide. But Rin's aura sharpened, heavy and calm as judgment itself.
The final slash fell.
The Blood Abyss shattered.
The cocoon outside cracked and burst, collapsing into red mist. Where the Elder Vampire had stood, there was only dust, scattering silently on the cold dungeon floor.
His last whisper lingered in the air:
"…so… peaceful…"
---
Rin stood alone in the silence. His blade lowered, its silver glow fading back into steel. Around him, the remnants of the Blood Abyss dissolved into mist, the world stitching itself back into the dungeon's stone and ruin.
His friends broke through the red haze—Jae-seok rushing forward, chanting weakly to keep what little healing magic he could muster flowing. Hyun-woo was pale, his flame guttering low, while So-yeon staggered from her wounds but refused to fall. Their eyes widened when they saw him, battered and drenched in blood, but standing tall.
"Rin!"
He turned slowly, each step echoing like thunder in the hollow crypt. His aura was gone now, sheathed like the sword at his side. But even without it, something about him felt untouchable—like he'd walked back from a place no one else could follow.
A faint smile touched his lips as he reached them, his hand twitching slightly like he meant to raise it.
"...It's over."
The words left him soft, almost a whisper.
Then his body faltered. The strength drained from his legs, the world blurred, and before he could close the last gap, darkness rushed in. He collapsed forward, unconscious, his sword clattering against the stone.
Jae-seok caught him just before he hit the ground, eyes wide. "Rin—!"
The dungeon was quiet again. Too quiet.
The only sound left was the ragged breathing of survivors, and the memory of a whisper—so peaceful—still hanging in the air.
Codex Record — Blood Abyss & Crimson Mourne
Blood Abyss
A forbidden domain of the oldest Vampiric Elders. Within it, blood itself becomes infinite — whips strike like serpents, spears burst from the ground, clones walk as mirrors, and shields throb in rhythm with the caster's heart.
To enter is not to fight a man, but a kingdom of blood.
Crimson Mourne- Sword of the Elder Vampire:
A cursed blade said to be steeped in centuries of slaughter. Its edge resonates with the wielder's veins, amplifying blood arts beyond measure.
But Crimson Mourne does not feed only on blood. It feeds on arrogance.
To raise it is to believe oneself eternal.
To fall with it is to learn that even eternity can be severed.
It is a legendary grade blade that can show its wielder the best path to take