CHAPTER 423: CRIMSON DANCE IN THE MOUNTAINS

The first rays of sunlight filtered over the jagged peaks of the mountains, casting golden light across the highland forest. The mist had not yet lifted, clinging to the ground like a shroud. In a secluded clearing high above the coastal city, Amber and Lilith moved like shadows through smoke—dancing in the silence of the morning.

Amber’s breath came in slow, measured rhythms, the sound nearly inaudible. Her dagger—her own creation of blood and will—sliced the air with a crisp, whispering sound. Lilith circled her, offering corrections not with words but with movement. Every feint, step, and strike was a conversation between master and student.

Amber’s Blood Arts had grown. No longer was she merely channeling energy into her blade—now her strikes bled red trails through the air. Each slash summoned wisps of crimson mist that swirled around her, forming afterimages that confused the eye. Her control had become sharper, her attacks faster, her movements almost too quick to track.

"Good," Lilith finally said, catching Amber’s blade mid-strike between two fingers. Her grip was light, casual, yet unbreakable. "But you’re still holding back. Don’t restrain your instincts—refine them."

Amber’s eyes flashed crimson.

"Understood."

They continued until the sun climbed higher, but both remained untouched by fatigue. Their skin glistened only slightly, and their breaths remained cool. The mountain bore witness to two predators honing their craft—not through brute strength, but through deadly artistry.

On their way down the mountain trail, Amber spoke softly, her senses sharpening.

"We’re being followed."

"I know," Lilith replied, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

"They’ve been tailing us since the last ridge."

Twenty-two figures. Faint footfalls. Disguised auras. Human, but not ordinary. Their attackers were skilled—Origin Level 5, each of them—and they’d chosen their prey carefully. Or so they thought.

Lilith let them close. Amber said nothing, her expression blank, detached. Her fingers rested lightly on her dagger’s hilt.

At a bend in the trail where the mist thickened and the cliffs loomed, Lilith stopped.

"This spot will do."

She turned and called into the trees, her voice honey-sweet and mocking.

"You’ve followed us long enough. Are you ready to die now, or would you rather beg?"

Silence answered at first. Then a gruff voice replied, full of false confidence.

"Pretty arrogant for prey. You two are worth a fortune dead. You made it easy for us."

From the shadows emerged men clad in leather, their weapons sharp and enchanted. Some bore halberds crackling with minor elemental runes, others wielded twin curved daggers. Their leader, a tall brute with blood-red tattoos and a crooked grin, stepped forward.

"Surrender your valuables and maybe we’ll let one of you live," he sneered.

"You’d fetch more as a slave, girl."

Amber’s eyes narrowed to slits. "Wrong choice."

The air changed.

In a heartbeat, Amber vanished—gone from view entirely. One of the bandits screamed as she reappeared behind him, her crimson dagger piercing through his spine, out through his chest. She twisted, and blood sprayed in a high arc before she kicked his corpse into another attacker.

Lilith moved at the same time.

She walked through them like death itself, her hands glowing with dark red sigils. She didn’t need weapons. Her fingers sliced through steel and flesh alike. She tore the heart from the nearest bandit in one motion, letting his body crumple before turning smoothly to impale another with her bare hand.

The bandits responded, weapons clashing and elemental attacks flying. A wall of fire roared through the trail, and a bolt of lightning cracked down toward Amber.

She spun mid-air, her blood forming a thin shield that shimmered and absorbed the blow. As she landed, she stabbed her dagger into the earth. Blood erupted from the ground beneath the enemy in a chain reaction—spears of crimson lancing upward, impaling five at once.

Screams echoed through the trees.

Lilith blurred, moving too fast for the human eye. She ducked beneath a swing, pivoted, and tore the attacker’s head clean off. She twirled gracefully, her long coat flaring like wings, and hurled a wave of blood blades that carved through three more.

Amber faced the remaining six. They rushed her together, screaming war cries. She stood perfectly still.

And then moved.

She ducked under the first strike, her dagger flashing out—cutting the tendons in the attacker’s leg. She flipped over the second, landing behind him and slitting his throat. She caught the blade of a third with her bare hand, her blood hardening to stop the strike. With her other hand, she stabbed upward through his jaw.

Crimson fog filled the air.

Blood soaked the rocks and trees. The last two tried to flee.

"Don’t," Lilith said softly. With a wave of her hand, the blood on the ground rose like a whip and snapped forward, slicing the fleeing men into pieces mid-sprint.

When it ended, the trail was still once more—save for the dripping of blood from the rocks and trees. Corpses littered the path, mangled and lifeless. Not a single drop stained Amber’s clothing. Her breathing was calm, composed.

"That wasn’t a fight," she murmured, sliding her dagger back into its sheath.

"It was a slaughter."

Lilith nodded. "And yet you hesitated less than before. You’re starting to understand."

"They chose death the moment they followed us."

The two stood in the aftermath, surrounded by bodies. The mist swirled around their feet like a curtain dropping after a performance. The silence that followed wasn’t peaceful—it was sacred. Like the hush that falls in the heart of a cathedral after a divine offering.

Lilith turned, brushing blood from her fingers.

"Come. We still have much to do. But your evolution... it’s progressing faster than I hoped."

Amber looked once more at the destruction they had wrought. She felt no remorse, no hesitation. She was feeling the thrill of the hunt, her natural instincts of vampire was taking over. Naturally, they drained their victims blood before leaving, they didn’t drink from the source, simply controlled the blood to flow outside as they drank it.