The cavern groaned under the weight of our clashing auras.
Each breath I took was labored, a mixture of exhaustion and rage fueling my every move.
Asmodai stood across from me, his crimson eyes gleaming like embers in the dim light.
Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth, and his immaculate suit was torn and stained.
Yet, even in his wounded state, he looked unshaken, exuding a presence that was both regal and predatory.
"You've improved," he said, his voice carrying a weight of mockery and intrigue. "But this ends now. Do you even realize what you're up against?"
"I know exactly what you are," I snarled, gripping my blade tighter. "An Original—a parasite clinging to life. But I also know how to end you."
He laughed, a cold, guttural sound. "End me? Do you even understand the impossibility of what you're saying? I cannot be killed—not truly. Not by any mortal or immortal means."
"I'm not mortal," I growled, stepping forward. My crimson blade shimmered, pulsing with the energy of my blood.
"You're not immortal, either," Asmodai countered, his tone laced with disdain. "Do you even know what you are? Or are you just another pawn, fumbling in the dark?"
I said nothing. Instead, I charged, my blade carving through the air in a deadly arc.
He sidestepped with inhuman speed, countering with a gravitational wave that slammed into me.
The force hurled me back, but I planted my blade into the ground, using it as an anchor to pull myself upright.
The cavern trembled as he advanced. "You've made a fatal mistake fighting me on the full moon. Even weakened by its pull, I am still the pinnacle of all creation. But you… you've only tasted the edge of your power."
"Then let me show you the rest," I spat.
Blood surged from the wounds on my arms, coalescing into twin lances of crimson energy.
I hurled them toward him, the air cracking with the sheer force of their speed.
Asmodai batted one aside with a swipe of his hand, but the second struck his chest, erupting in a violent explosion.
When the dust cleared, Asmodai emerged, his chest charred but already mending.
He straightened his posture, his eyes narrowing. "Persistent, aren't you? But persistence alone won't save you."
He lunged at me with a speed that bent the air, his hand wrapping around my throat.
He slammed me into the wall, his grip unrelenting. "Do you know how many like you I've killed? How many fools thought they could dethrone me?"
I glared into his eyes, unyielding. "I'm not like them. I know your weakness."
For the first time, his expression faltered, a flicker of caution breaking through his arrogance.
"Gold," I growled, my voice strained against his grip. "You Originals… you can't die unless gold covers your body, your heart is torn out, and you're bathed in pure sunlight—untainted by the air itself."
His lips curled into a grin, but there was unease in his gaze. "You've done your research. But do you have the strength to make it matter?"
Summoning every ounce of power I had left, I roared, releasing a shockwave of blood energy that sent him flying back.
I didn't give him a chance to recover. Charging forward, I plunged my blade into his chest, pinning him to the cavern wall.
"You'll regret this," he snarled, dark ichor dripping from his mouth.
I ignored him, raising my hand over his chest.
Blood energy crackled around my palm as I reached inside him.
His body convulsed as my hand closed around his heart, the sensation like holding a miniature sun—searing, pulsating with ancient power.
"Stop!" he bellowed, his voice laced with desperation. "You don't understand what you're doing!"
I tightened my grip, my voice cold and resolute. "I understand perfectly."
With a savage pull, I tore his heart from his chest.
The cavern lit up in a crimson glow as the heart's immense power radiated outward.
Asmodai's body convulsed violently, his screams echoing off the stone walls.
I held the heart aloft, its raw energy seeping into my veins as I sealed it within my soul corridor.
My body burned with newfound strength, but I felt the toll it was taking.
Asmodai slumped against the wall, his body twitching as it began to contort.
His fangs grew longer, his eyes glowing like molten lava. His muscles expanded, tearing through the remnants of his clothing.
"You fool," he hissed, his voice deeper and more primal. "Each time my heart is taken, I transcend further. This… is your doom!"
He broke free from the blade pinning him, roaring as his body surged with unholy power.
In an instant, he was upon me, his claws raking across my chest.
Blood sprayed the cavern floor as he sank his fangs into my neck, draining what little strength I had left.
The world spun around me, my vision narrowing as the life drained from my body. Asmodai threw me to the ground, standing over me with a wicked grin.
"You'll die here, drained and forgotten," he said, wiping the blood from his mouth. "But know this—I can't kill you outright. My heart binds us now. But when I see you next, I'll make sure my siblings finish what I started."
I coughed, blood spilling from my lips, but I managed a weak grin. "Next time… I'll hunt you down. Full moon, blood moon… it won't matter. I'll end you."
Asmodai chuckled, a low, mocking sound. "Dream of that while you fade into darkness."
He turned and walked away, his aura fading into the distance as my body gave out.
The cavern around me blurred, the faint glow of blood and stone merging into a haze.
And then, darkness.
I didn't die. Though for a moment, I thought I would.
Asmodai spared me. Why, I'm still not sure. Perhaps it was because I took his heart.
When you take a vampire's heart, they don't die unless you crush it.
Instead, when their heart is removed, the world's laws bind them with a vow.
They cannot harm the one who holds their heart. So here I am—alive, against all odds.
I can't tell if I should feel fortunate or cursed.
The plan is simple.
I'll give Asmodai's heart to my love, the woman I hold dear. I'll free her from the burdens she's carried, so she can live without the weight of the world crushing her.
But before I can do that, there's one thing I must face. The one thing I hate most in this life: myself.
The Spectral Soul. It's an ideology—a philosophy that guides you to embrace your true essence.
When you accept this, you break free from all the chains that bind you. It's a way to transcend mortal limitations.
In short, you free yourself from every restriction that holds you back.
It's not about changing what you are, but about casting off what keeps you confined.
You transcend, but you remain who you are, only without the burden of being mortal.
And then, you meet yourself.
A version of yourself who shares everything you are, but lacks one thing: a filter.
And as luck would have it, mine isn't just unfiltered; it's biased—against me.
The darkness had lifted, but I wasn't in that cave anymore. I wasn't surrounded by blood or shadows.
I was in a field, the ground covered with lush green grass.
Flowers bloomed in vibrant colors around me, and the sun blazed from a cloudless sky.
In the distance, a lake shimmered—though the water was unnaturally red.
A figure walked past me—me. Or rather, a version of me. The man I had become, walking past a garden of flowers and a lake of blood.
He approached with a solemn look, his gaze drifting from me to the sky above. "Well, now, you've lost again. And this time, you even managed to lose while he was weakened."
I raised an eyebrow. "It was night. I was weakened too."
He didn't flinch. "By 'weakened,' you mean you couldn't use your full magical potential. In terms of speed and strength, you were still top-tier. Useless fool."
I felt my frustration rise. "Damn it! I didn't even get the chance to ritual-cast a spell. Give me a break!"
He sighed, taking a step toward me. "Once you wake, you're going to have to go straight to her. You've completed your goal, haven't you?"
I shook my head, my thoughts sharper now. "No. My real goal is far beyond that. I'm going to kill that bastard—the one who hurt her."
He nodded. "Vicent, right?"
I clenched my fists. "Yeah. So, let me out. I need to get to her. Now."
He placed a hand on my shoulder, his expression softening just slightly. "You're an annoying idiot. But since you achieved something, I'll let you go."
The vision started to fade, the field of flowers and the blood-red lake dissolving as my consciousness returned to the present.
I opened my eyes slowly, the world coming back into focus.
The scent of lavender tickled my senses.
The soft rustle of fabric filled the air, and as the light from the window stretched across the room, I recognized the warmth, the peace—it was her house.
Ronni sat by my side, her hand resting near mine, her gaze down. She didn't notice I was awake.
I shifted, testing my body, trying to ease the ache.
The pain from the battle was still there, but not unbearable.
I could feel the bandages wrapped around my chest, a reminder of how close I came to death. But I wasn't dead. Not yet.
I was in her room. In her bed.
She must have moved me here after the battle.
A quiet sigh escaped my lips as I glanced at her.
Ronni had changed. Her appearance was more refined, and there was a cool grace about her now, different from before.
The way she held herself... as if she were someone else entirely. But there was no time for questions.
I needed to get to her. The reason I survived. The reason I took Asmodai's heart.
"She's waiting," I muttered, more to myself than to her.
Ronni looked at me, her eyes soft yet piercing. "You need to hurry. You've waited long enough."
I nodded, though I felt a weight settle in my chest.
Before I could speak, the door creaked open, and a figure stepped in.
He had dark skin, black eyes that seemed to pierce right through you, and dark blue hair that fell messily to his shoulders.
He was slightly taller than Ronni, but still shorter than me.
His presence was imposing, even if his features were more composed.
"I'm Cole," he said, voice smooth but with an edge of something darker. "And I take it you're ready to go?"
I glanced at Ronni, who stood and gave me a small nod. She had changed so much, but I didn't have time to question it.
The need to get to her, to her room, to the one who had suffered because of me—it drove me forward.
I stood up, ignoring the aches in my body. I glanced at Cole, then Ronni, before stepping toward the door.
"This way," Ronni said, guiding us through the house.
As we moved through the halls, I noticed the familiar surroundings, the warmth of the place.
It was the capital—her home. The same place I had been to countless times when traveling with her.
I never stayed in one place long enough to have a house of my own, but it didn't matter.
This place... this house was hers.
We entered the room, and my gaze immediately fell on her.
She was lying on a bed, her body wrapped in a thin sheet. Red skin marred with burn marks, hair gone, her breathing slow and shallow.
The sight of her in such a state stabbed at my chest.
I froze for a moment.
"Lyria," I whispered.
She looked up at me, her eyes weak but still holding a flicker of life. "Look away," she murmured.
There was something in her voice—a force, an undeniable compulsion—that made me hesitate. I almost listened, almost obeyed.
But I couldn't.
I walked to her side, ignoring the pull that begged me to stop.
And then I spoke her name again.
"Lyria."