The earth shuddered, and jagged spikes erupted from the ground, racing toward Elena. The magician, a lanky man with a crazed glint in his eyes, vanished in a shimmer of air. But Elena was faster. A violet aura, as beautiful as a twilight sky, encased her blade. She didn't just parry the spikes; she shattered them, her sword a blur of motion that left crystalline dust in the air.

Her movements were a dance, a series of quick, deliberate steps that ate up the distance between her and the vanishing magician. Just as she closed in, a heavy boot slammed into her side. She pivoted, blocking the kick with the flat of her sword, the impact rattling her teeth.

"Voncrest Swordsmanship," she announced, her voice a cold whisper that cut through the chaos.

A thick, violet mist, smelling of crushed orchids and bitter almonds, billowed from her body, engulfing her and her new opponent.

"Fuck, it's poison!" a voice rasped from the fog.

Ezra, casually deflecting a low-level mob's clumsy attacks, glanced over at the unfolding scene. He watched Elena move, a figure of lethal grace, and a memory surfaced, a phrase Sergei had once said about fighting her:

"Your blade cuts like lightning, and your poisons are deadlier than any curse… yet what truly frightens me is the calm in your eyes when you wield them both."

He saw it now. The serenity in her movements, the utter lack of panic in her gaze as she fought. Elena, a peak Rank 5 with an affinity for air, was a true terror, her poison mastery making her a dangerous adversary even for Rank 6 mages.

A sudden flare of searing heat forced Elena to retreat. A powerful fire attack, a wave of concentrated flame, washed over the area she had just occupied. She retreated, her body moving in a fluid arc that avoided the brunt of the assault. She then landed gracefully from a high backflip, her sword slicing through the neck of a man who had tried to capitalize on her momentary retreat.

She landed, her boots silent on the scorched earth, and her eyes locked onto a man walking toward her. A name, heavy with loathing, fell from her lips.

"Jonas."

Jonas smiled, a predatory grin that didn't reach his eyes. "Major, you're as strong as they say."

She didn't let him finish. In one swift, explosive burst of motion, she closed the gap, her sword a venomous streak of light aimed at his heart. The blade was laced with a poison so potent it could fell a lesser man with a single touch.

But Jonas stood his ground. He didn't evade or parry. He raised his own sword, a simple, unadorned blade, and met her attack head-on. His eyes, once a calm brown, flared a furious crimson. Elena's sword, deflected slightly by his, grazed his cheek, leaving a thin line of poisoned violet. A moment later, the poison began to sizzle and burn away, the flesh knitting itself back together with an unnatural speed.

"Your poison is lethal," he said, his voice a low growl, "but against my Blood-Bind cultivation method, it is nothing."

He didn't hesitate. A dagger of condensed blood formed in his free hand, and he lunged, aiming for her gut. Elena met his attack with a hand constructed of pure mana, the shimmering air blocking the deadly blade.

They exchanged a flurry of blows, a tempest of steel and magic. Swords clashed, mana hands struck, and with every exchange, the air grew thicker, more noxious. The violet mist swirled and seeped into the ground, and around them, low-level soldiers began to stagger, their knees buckling as the poison seeped into their very bones.

Elena didn't care about anything else—her mind held only one thought: kill Jonas.

At first, Jonas smiled, confident. He believed he could handle her. But as her blade cut deeper, the poison began to spread. His blood-bind cultivation burned away most of its effects, yet the toxin spread faster than his body could cleanse.

"Fuck…" he muttered, taking a step back, distance forming between them. With a sharp kick, he tried to push her away. Elena flung back effortlessly, her lips curling into a sudden, cold smile.

Jonas's eyes narrowed, fury igniting. He summoned his ultimate move, blood-bound power surging, but something stopped him mid-motion. Violet condensed mana flung from behind, striking with deadly precision.

He cursed under his breath and twisted, attempting to dodge—but found he couldn't move. Panic surged. His gaze dropped, and horror gripped him: his leg was immobile, bound in a way he hadn't even sensed.

Before he could react, a condensed sword materialized from thin air, piercing through his neck and exiting the other side. Blood spattered, eyes widening in shock.

While engaging him, Elena had secretly activated a rank six binding scroll, anchoring him in place. Weakened by her poison, Jonas hadn't noticed the trap until it was too late.

Silence followed his death for only a moment. Soldiers who had witnessed the fight were flustered—seeing the peak rank five leader of the Guarding Center killed outright by a single foe shook them to their core.

Before anyone could recover, Ezra and fifty others descended upon them. There was no mercy for those who had betrayed humanity. Steel clashed, spells erupted, and the battlefield descended into a whirlwind of slaughter.

Amid the chaos, Elena's voice rang sharp and clear. "Ezra, I'm going inside. Mirella must be guarding the core. The formation—we have to destroy it. Only ten minutes left."

Ezra nodded once, eyes cold, and kicked a rank-four soldier charging at him. His blade sliced through with deadly efficiency.

Elena didn't hesitate. She dashed forward, violet mana trailing her movements, weaving past collapsing soldiers and deadly spells alike. Every step was precise, controlled, yet unstoppable.

The formation lay ahead, humming with latent energy. Time was against them, and failure was not an option. With a final glance at Ezra, she vanished into the fray.

————————-

In the distant mountains beyond Blood Fort, a figure crashed into the jagged terrain, the impact shattering rocks and splintering the earth beneath him. Dust and debris swirled in the air as the sound of destruction echoed across the peaks.

Sergei Vlastovich had been fighting for four relentless hours, and his blood flowed freely, staining the battlefield. Around him, the mountains themselves bore the scars of their conflict—trees uprooted, cliffs shattered, and the ground scorched. His opponent lay not far off, equally battered, coughing blood, yet still defiantly struggling to rise.

"Sergei… I didn't expect it to get this serious," Yun Hao wheezed, his chest heaving, blood dripping from the corners of his mouth. "Cough… cough…"

Yun hao eyes narrowed as he assessed the situation. He had been told by Count Alaric that Sergei had been colliding with demons, supposedly allied, so there was no need to worry about him. Yet here he was, fighting as if his very life depended on it. Rage boiled within Sergei.

Without a word, he lunged. His blade cut through the air with terrifying speed, but Yun Hao responded instantly—blocking with a concentrated air pressure, deflecting the strike. Sergei followed with an invisible mana-infused slash, only for Yun Hao to counter with a shield of surrounding mana.

"Vampires are detestable," Sergei spat, his voice shaking with fury. "Even before the demons arrived, you and your kind were constantly preying on humans." He fixed Yun Hao with a hard stare. "Do you know how many humans have fallen to vampires?"

Yun Hao's lips curled in a bitter smile. "So be it. Humans are no better. They kill without remorse, and in the end, survival is for the strongest. But tell me this… if you can ally with demons, mortal enemies of humans, then why refuse vampires? Does it have something to do with your mother?"

The mention of his mother ignited something feral within Sergei. His blood boiled, and he attacked with renewed fury. Blades clashed, mana flared, and the mountain trembled under the force of their duel.

Yun Hao raised his arms, blocking Sergei's onslaught with an almost casual ease. A cruel laugh escaped him. "Hahaha… A Rank 7 like you is still bound by familial love," he mocked, eyes glinting with disdain.

Sergei growled, his attacks relentless. Yun Hao stepped back, observing him with a mixture of amusement and calculation.

"Sergei Vlastovich," Yun Hao said, his tone almost persuasive, almost calm. "I could run away if I wished… but look at you. Pitiful, driven by hatred, blinded by your past. I will give you a choice. Come with me. I know your hatred for us runs deep, but I promise… you will surpass your sister. Believe in the power of the Demon Alliance."

He gestured broadly to the battlefield. "Surely you've realized a mere human should not wield such power. Yet here I am, fighting you—the so-called genius of the Vlastovich clan. Come with me, and we will grant you power that will let you dominate humanity itself. Think about it, Sergei. Power beyond your imagination."

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