However, for apprentice soul vampires, one might actually think they would triumph against the sand woman the same way Diego did when he fought her and her relentless army. Yet not all apprentice soul vampires were Diego, for not all of them truly understood how to manipulate the volatile streams of energy that granted them power—the same energy they relied upon to perform devastating attacks and accomplish feats that seemed impossible to mortal eyes. This distinction meant that while a lich had to focus intently on channeling energy to transmute, place hexes, and engrave runes, a chaos lich had to devote even greater concentration to converting cursed energy into a chaos element, carefully regulating how it coursed through his body to fuel destruction while simultaneously controlling the element with another side of his mind. Thus, if liches had to devote focus into their bodies, perceiving the energy within as if they were seeing it directly, apprentice soul vampires had to exert even more focus, for they stood a rank above skeleton liches. Moreover, unlike liches who followed established techniques, apprentice soul vampires were forced to invent their own methods of control, shaping the unstable energy within their bodies into something usable without losing themselves in the process.
Hence, the reason why there were so few apprentice soul vampires in New Darkovia: in the perilous course of creating a technique that suited them, many were consumed by the very energy they sought to master. That energy twisted them into madness, plagued their minds, and eventually devoured them entirely until nothing remained but husks. Apprentice soul vampires could indeed die, for they were not like standard soul beings such as skeleton liches and skeleton knights. Once an apprentice soul vampire had mastered his technique and learned to control the energy within, he was granted the paradoxical state of being both alive and dead—half in the realm of the living, half in the realm of the damned. This dual existence meant they carried two lives; if one was lost, they reverted to a low‑class or weak‑class soul being. Yet if they perished in that diminished state, they were utterly destroyed, erased from existence without hope of return.
However, due to the high risk of commandeering the volatile energy within and the swaying uncertainty of which technique truly suited an individual apprentice soul vampire, most apprentices chose not to invest the painstaking effort required to master a stabilizing technique. Instead, they relied on the raw, untamed energy surging from within their bodies, channeling it without structure or discipline.
Contrary to common belief however, most soul beings became apprentice soul vampires this way and thus the ancient method of learning a technique gradually faded into obscurity, almost erased from the chronicles of Darkovian history. Yet, despite the apparent simplicity of this new path, it carried a far higher mortality rate than the disciplined method, for raw energy lacked rhythm, balance, and protective patterns. Those who embraced it lived in perpetual state of fear, haunted by the knowledge that a single misstep could spell their end. This looming danger compelled most apprentice soul vampires to aim for decisive, lethal strikes—seeking to claim an opponent's life in one swift move—because prolonged combat and repeated summoning of raw energy from within destroyed the paths originally meant for the soul being's survival, making the energy leak through and giving the grave notion that death was only just one mistake away, as if they made a mistake it could puncture the path holding the energy the apprentice soul vampire absorbed from the atmosphere or tear open the walls holding the energy, making the leak increase.
Hence, the soul vampires were divided into two distinct groups: one, the reckless group without a technique, who relied solely on raw energy to deal immense damage and moved hastily in order to overwhelm their opponent, were known as fake apprentice soul vampires. The other group, those who followed a disciplined technique to control the energy within their bodies, channeling it as a weapon, manipulating it to enhance their strength, speed, and even the surrounding world, were known as true apprentice soul vampires, feared and respected for their mastery of balance and precision.
For the fake apprentice soul vampires, there was no conceivable way they could take down their opponent when faced with waves of rock golems summoned by the sand‑woman. Not to mention, they could not even dream of challenging the sand‑woman herself, because the rock golems were not opponents one could simply rush at and destroy. They required strategy, flair, and perfect energy manipulation—qualities the fake apprentices utterly lacked. Even if they attacked a horde of enemies like the wave of rock golems, they would immediately regret it, for while they hoped to swiftly eliminate their foes in one reckless strike, the stampede of rock golems would meet them with crushing force. The sheer impact of such a clash would fracture nearly every bone in the body of the apprentice soul vampire, leaving them frail, weakened, and vulnerable. Worse still, the rock golems possessed the terrifying ability to control the weight and force of their punches, turning every strike into a nightmare. Surrounded by these seemingly small but immensely powerful beings, the fake apprentice soul vampire would be slowed, battered, and inevitably cornered, until the golems advanced for the inevitable kill.
In contrast, the true apprentice soul vampires had a far greater chance of victory against both the rock golems and the sand‑woman. Their mastery allowed them to manipulate not only the energy within but also the energy in the atmosphere in real time. This meant they could create constructs of pure energy to fight for them or wield them as weapons, and move with the same absurd speed granted by their enhanced bodies. Their abilities elevated them to a level where foes ranging from advanced‑class soul beings to weak soul beings and other entities in that realm of power were cut down effortlessly, as though they were nothing. Against a chaos lich or the sand‑woman herself, it would not be a battle but a slaughter. Diego's confrontation with her proved this truth—he dismantled her with cold precision, granting her only a faint illusion of escape out of the cruel mercy of his dead heart, sparing her not from compassion but from the pragmatic calculation of avoiding the wrath of the Ritvegda's, as he only "approached" Maru's castle for what he viewed as a "friendly" chat, though every step carried the weight of inevitable devastation and silent menace.
Speaking of Maru's castle, Diego had laid waste to every trap and obstacle preventing him from approaching Maru's throne room, from the latest Zaleskian technology to old medieval methods employed all around the path leading to the throne room. Whether it was from the floor, the ceiling, the wall, the pillar, or directly before him, Diego tore down the traps with the ease of one who had faced such perils countless times before, his movements honed by endless battles and sharpened by merciless instinct. Yet one obstacle loomed forward, far more imposing than steel or sorcery—two of Maru's best knights, hovering above with golden armor that shimmered like burning suns and weapons forged from rare, otherworldly alloys, their faces twisted into grim frowns as they prepared to bash his head in, guardians whose very presence radiated lethal intent and unyielding loyalty.