Hot, crimson blood sprayed into the air, a violent arc of life essence painting the battlefield in red.
Dracula's body was cleaved in two, split cleanly down the middle by Soren's blade. The ancient vampire didn't even have time to scream before his bifurcated corpse hit the ground with a wet thud.
Soren exhaled softly and sheathed his blade, the glowing edge fading into silence.
Behind him, flames still danced, licking across the blood-spattered floor and where Dracula's corpse lay, his blood ignited, burning furiously beneath the lingering aura of the divine weapon.
The fire spread quickly, crawling over his flesh like a divine verdict, turning death into ash.
But something was wrong.
Soren's eyes narrowed.
The flames burned… but Dracula's presence grew stronger. Not weaker.
From behind, Lorelai gasped, trembling. Her eyes were locked on the burning corpse in disbelief.
"That's impossible…" She whispered. "He, he was cut in half."
She backed away slowly, inching closer to Freyja, who remained still, expression unreadable, eyes sharp.
Panic twisted inside Lorelai's gut.
He was returning.
A low, guttural voice slithered through the air, heavy with menace.
"You… dare."
The flames flickered and died. Darkness rushed in like a living shadow, swallowing the room in unnatural gloom.
From the pile of scorched remains, blood began to bubble up. Thick, dark crimson liquid pooled unnaturally fast, swelling into a grotesque sphere.
Thump… Thump…
The sound echoed like distant war drums.
Then another thump louder.
Thump!
Thump!
The sphere vibrated, beating with the rhythm of something monstrous clawing its way back into existence.
Soren's expression stayed the same.
"I figured as much. You monsters never stay dead the first time."
The blood orb contracted violently.
BOOM!
With a sudden burst, it exploded outward, hurling gore in every direction — and from its heart stepped Dracula… reborn.
His body was uninjured. No cuts, no burns.
But more than that, he was bigger. Stronger.
"You've made a mistake, mortal. I gave you a chance to beg. Now… I'll suck the marrow from your bones."
"…?"
"All this drama just to lose twice? You're wasting my time."
Dracula wasn't finished. His body began to shift, grotesquely mutating.
Armor-like plates of blackened skin erupted across his chest and arms. Jagged spikes jutted out from his shoulders and spine.
His once-handsome face twisted into something monstrous, a hardened exoskeleton forming over it, leaving only a gaping mouth full of fangs and writhing tendrils.
He towered above them now, over two and a half meters tall, a juggernaut of rage and blood.
"Roarrrr!"
The air rippled from the force of his scream. Behind him, a glowing lake of blood unfurled, bubbling and thick. Ghostly souls, shrieking, suffering circled within, their mouths opening in silent agony.
Soren stood still, breathing shallowly as he assessed the creature before him.
Dracula had changed.
He was no longer just a vampire lord… he had transcended, breaking past the A-level threshold into something far worse: an S-class monstrosity.
His body had mutated into something grotesquely majestic, armor-like hide gleaming with a viscous sheen, spikes jutting from his back like demonic thorns.
The magic rolling off him was thick, suffocating, a twisting fusion of ancient darkness and corrupted blood.
It wasn't the elegant, abyssal energy of Dormammu that Soren had once faced, it was something tainted, soaked in the pain of countless victims.
Dark Blood Magic.
Not simple necromancy.Ort vampirism. Something born from centuries of sacrifice.
Dracula's eyes… if they could still be called that, met his. They were bottomless pits, swirling with silence and death.
And yet, under everything, Soren felt it.
Hunger.
His soul shivered.
He's looking right into me… no—no-through me.
Then, without warning, Dracula roared.
It was a sound that shook the ground, a sonic wave of wrath and madness. And in an instant, his entire body became a streak of crimson lightning, tearing through the air.
"Tch!" Soren reacted instantly, activating his psychokinesis, warping the space around him like a cocoon of thought-forged steel.
The blood lightning collided with the field and shuddered, slowed momentarily—but only for a second.
Dracula's new form shattered the psychic pressure, tearing through it as if it were parchment.
"Not fast enough."
He summoned his weapon again, the flame-forged long knife, with a flash of burning runes.
In one smooth, practiced motion, he brought the blade down in a wide, powerful arc, meeting the incoming Dracula with a clash of fire and blood.
BOOM.
The explosion of energy from their impact was rural.
Buildings collapsed like toy models under the shockwave. A tempest of dust and debris swirled violently, engulfing the battlefield in chaos.
Freyja stood her ground, her divine armor glowing faintly, absorbing the worst of the blast. She gritted her teeth.
"Barely holding."
Lorelai wasn't so lucky. The sheer pressure from the clash hurled her into the stone wall with a sickening crack, blood spraying from her lips as she slumped down, barely conscious.
Freyja's jaw clenched. Despite everything, she remembered Odin's words. Lorelai was not to die.
She rushed over, picked up the injured enchantress and effortlessly, and pressed her into the corner of the ruins.
With a flick of her hand, she conjured a golden ward, a shimmering divine barrier that flared to life between them and the violent battlefield.
"Stay down. If you get up, I'll personally throw you back into the dungeon." Freyja growled.
"But don't die."
The battle raged on.
Neither Soren nor Dracula had gained the upper hand. The impact had sent both combatants skidding back across the battlefield, feet digging trenches into the shattered ground.
Dracula's snarl deepened. The blood-magic around him began to pulse wildly.
Then he began to chant, a language so ancient it made the air itself shiver.
Behind him, the phantom lake of blood churned with renewed clarity. Its waters no longer vague illusion, they were real now.
Within them, countless tormented souls writhed, mouths stretched in eternal screams, their hatred echoing silently.
"These souls…" Soren muttered.
The lake began to glow red-hot, as Dracula spread his arms and howled into the sky. His voice was thunder, his words a curse.
"By the blood of the First Fang, by the will of the Night Eternal!"
"I summon the damned! The hunted! The devoured!"
"Swear it now, your souls belong to me! In my name, you shall burn and serve!"
"Swear it in the name of the Highest Ancestor of Vampires..."
"Let your souls fall into the Blood Hell, and become MY CHAINS!"