Oban and Rakan faced each other in the crumbling remains of the battlefield. The City trembled under the weight of their clash, Tower shaking, dust falling from the ceiling like rain. Oban's eyes narrowed. Every instinct screamed at him that this fight could destroy everything around them if he wasn't careful.
Rakan smirked, his claws flexing and glowing faintly in the dim light. "Huh… a bat saving humans. How interesting," he said. His voice was almost playful, but there was a dark edge to it that made Oban's skin crawl.
"I don't want people to suffer because of our fight," Oban replied firmly, his hand tightening around the handle of his vampiric blade. There was no hesitation in his eyes, only resolve.
Rakan tilted his head, amusement dancing across his features. "First time I've seen a vampire care about humans," he said with a chuckle. "Never thought I'd witness this. You must be special."
"You won't understand feelings unless you were one of them," Oban said quietly, stepping forward, his blade gleaming in the flickering light.
"What do you mean?" Rakan asked, cocking his head with curiosity.
"You have no space for morality," Oban replied calmly, almost sadly, and in the same instant, he lunged forward, striking with his blade. The steel glinted as it cut through the air, aiming for Rakan's side.
Rakan's reflexes were unnaturally fast. He caught the blade in one hand without effort and shook his head. "Pathetic," he growled, his grip tightening. "Time to remind you of your place." He struck, a powerful kick sending Oban hurtling toward a nearby truck. The impact spilled oil across the ground, slick and dangerous.
Oban's mind raced. His eyes flickered across the scene, and a spark of inspiration hit him. He reached into his inventory and pulled out his crafting table. Oil, blood, and sharp precision became instruments of creation. He quickly mixed the spilled truck oil with his solidified blood to craft several bombs. The system flared in response:
[NEW OBJECT CREATED: GRENADE]Note: Each bomb generates flames around 10x its range. Heat is strong enough to affect liquids and objects alike.
"Perfect," Oban muttered under his breath, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He tossed the first bomb toward Rakan, who leaped aside effortlessly. The explosion ignited flames, scorching the area around them. The heat was intense, but Rakan merely glared, calculating.
Oban had nine bombs left. He threw another, flames dancing in arcs toward the enemy. Rakan's eyes narrowed as he broke the ground beneath him, creating a tunnel to dive into. Oban was fast, following immediately. The tunnel was dark, water pooling across the floor. Visibility was poor, but Oban's senses extended, detecting Rakan's presence in the shadows.
The first strike came from behind, and Oban moved instinctively, tossing a bomb to counterattack. Rakan dodged, water splashing around him. "It won't work here, kid," Rakan said, voice calm but dangerous. "Water cancels flames."
Oban chuckled softly. "Do you really think so?" He activated his blood manipulation, igniting the bombs with his own blood. Flames surged through the water, creating bursts of heat and steam. Some of Rakan's exposed skin scorched.
Rakan growled, punching through the water to disperse the flames. Oban's remaining six bombs became his advantage. He threw two more, but Rakan smashed them midair, splitting them apart with powerful strikes of his arm. Four bombs remained. Oban's eyes gleamed. He threw two more, but before they could reach their target, Rakan grabbed Oban's arm, pulling him close and seizing the bombs. "Mini bombs, huh?" Rakan said, smirking.
The bombs detonated in Rakan's grip, flames consuming his hands and body. Oban acted immediately, converting the flames into concentrated fire over Rakan's blood. Then, using his absolute control, he froze the fire in place. Ice formed rapidly, trapping Rakan in a solid casing. The wolf struggled, growls echoing through the tunnel, but Oban's control was absolute.
Oban drew a deep breath. "Now… let's end this." His vampiric blade shimmered in his hand as he prepared to strike the frozen figure. The blade hit, shattering ice and splitting cracks across the surface. But Rakan's body glowed faintly. The glow intensified, and the ice began to crack and break along with the tunnel itself.
Outside, the full moon shone high, casting silver light into the water-filled tunnel. The ice shattered completely, and Rakan rose—not as a humanoid, but as an enormous, true wolf. His massive body rippled with muscle, his fur gleaming under the moonlight. Oban's eyes widened.
"Oh… shit," he muttered, taking a step back.
The wolf towered over him, snarling. Its claws dug into the ground, leaving deep gouges in the stone. Every muscle flexed with raw power, the air around it vibrating with energy. Oban felt the threat radiating, every fiber of his body tense and alert.
Rakan's yellow eyes locked onto Oban. "So… the little bat thinks he can stop me?" he growled. His voice carried an eerie resonance, the sound of power and dominance.
Oban's fingers tightened around his blade. Memories flickered in his mind: the pain of losing control, the struggles he endured, the rebirth that had granted him powers far beyond a normal vampire. He had survived death, mastered abilities beyond his own understanding, and now he faced the ultimate opponent.
The wolf's tail lashed, sweeping the water and debris in a violent arc. Oban adjusted his stance, preparing to counter the incoming attack. Sparks of blue energy danced across his blade, reflecting his focus and determination.
"This ends now," Oban whispered to himself, his aura flaring slightly. Every instinct told him the next seconds would decide more than their own fates—they could determine the safety of everything around them.
Rakan lunged, a blur of fur and claws, but Oban's senses and reflexes were honed beyond mortal limits. He dodged, rolled, and countered with a precise strike aimed at the wolf's flank. The blade met fur and muscle, leaving shallow scratches but not enough to stop the beast.
Oban's mind raced. He could not rely solely on physical strikes. His blood manipulation, bombs, ice, and vampiric abilities were his arsenal. Every attack he had learned, crafted, or discovered would have to be used, and used perfectly, if he was to survive.
The moonlight reflected off Rakan's fur as he circled, snarling, each movement deliberate, every step calculated. Oban's heart pounded, not from fear, but from the weight of responsibility. Civilians were near. Destruction could reach beyond the tunnel, beyond the battlefield. He had to win.
Oban's hand glowed faintly with crimson energy. The blood at his fingertips flowed, forming tiny, glowing threads in the air. Each thread moved with purpose, waiting for his command.
Rakan growled again, his massive head swinging from side to side, eyes locked on Oban. "You think your tricks can stop me?" he said, low and threatening.
Oban didn't answer. He simply smiled slightly and whispered, "Watch me."
And with that, he moved.