CHAPTER 189: CRIMSON SOVEREIGNTY UNLEASHED

The arena shook as the Werewolf King, Seemus, towered over the battlefield, claws gleaming, fangs bared. The crowd fell silent, frozen in awe and fear, as he fixed his crimson gaze on the Vampire King, Zalmic, who calmly rose from his throne.

"Zalmic," Seemus growled, muscles coiling like springs. "It’s time to end you."

Zalmic’s eyes narrowed, his black-and-crimson blade held loosely at his side.

"I was hoping you’d show yourself. Very well... I won’t hold back."

The air between them thickened, the tension so heavy that weaker spectators stumbled, clutching their heads. Even vampire nobles in the front rows felt the oppressive heat of Seemus’s aura.

Then, without warning, the Werewolf King leapt forward, claws aimed directly at Zalmic’s chest.

"RAAAHHH!"

Zalmic pivoted smoothly, blade deflecting the swipe with a spark of steel against claws. The impact sent shockwaves through the arena, rattling the iron railings and making dust rain down from the stands.

The crowd screamed.

"He’s fast!" one vampire lord shouted, stumbling backward. "And he’s strong enough to break steel!"

Seemus’s next strike was a spinning slash, his speed blurring. Zalmic ducked and rolled, rising behind the werewolf king, slashing diagonally. Seemus twisted midair, narrowly avoiding the blade.

"Impressive..." Seemus hissed. "But not enough."

He slammed both fists into the ground, sending a tremor rolling across the arena floor. Cracks spider-webbed out, toppling some of the lower stands and sending civilians tumbling.

"Run! Evacuate!" a vampire guard shouted, pushing terrified nobles toward the tunnels beneath the arena.

Meanwhile, Zalmic used the momentum to kick off a fractured column, flipping onto Seemus’s back. The Werewolf King shook violently, claws slashing in a wide arc, narrowly missing Zalmic’s head.

The battle became a blur of motion. Leaps, flips, spins, claws, and blades colliding in a deadly dance. Each strike sent chunks of stone flying; each dodge and counter made the spectators’ hearts pound.

"By the gods... they’re evenly matched!" one werewolf elder whispered.

Another vampire lord clutched the railing.

"If either falls, the arena won’t survive the shockwave!"

Seemus growled, pressing forward relentlessly. He spun through the air like a predator born to hunt kings, claws raking through steel, tearing chunks out of columns as he struck. Zalmic countered with precise slashes, each swing controlled, calculated, his fangs bared in a calm snarl.

"You fight well, Seemus," Zalmic said, landing a backflip to dodge a swipe that would have split him in half. "But brute strength alone won’t win this."

Seemus snarled. "Brute strength? Pathetic. I am the apex predator! Your words won’t save you!"

He spun again, this time aiming a devastating overhead strike. Zalmic barely blocked it with his obsidian blade. Sparks flew; the clang of metal against claw echoed like thunder. The arena shook, dust and debris falling from the stands as people screamed.

"Keep moving!" a vampire guard yelled, pushing fleeing nobles toward safety. "The kings are fighting!"

From the stands, a masked spectator shouted, panic in his voice.

"They’re... destroying the arena! Everyone get out!"

Seemus roared, claws digging into the stone floor and propelling him forward with impossible speed. Zalmic countered with a spin, the tip of his blade grazing Seemus’s shoulder. A flash of crimson appeared, blood spraying—but Seemus barely flinched.

"You bleed?" Seemus hissed. "I expected more from a Vampire King."

Zalmic smirked, brushing the blood off. "Pain is irrelevant. Strategy is everything."

The two circled each other, breaths heavy, aura flaring. Dust swirled around them as the ground continued to crack, smoke rising from broken pillars and shattered railings. Civilians and minor combatants scuttled away like ants.

Seemus lunged again, faster than a heartbeat. Zalmic sidestepped, grabbing the Werewolf King’s arm and spinning him into a column. It shattered into pieces, but Seemus tumbled lightly, rolling to his feet without missing a beat.

"Hmm... agile." Zalmic said, eyes narrowing. "Not bad for a beast."

Seemus bared his teeth, spittle flying. "Don’t underestimate me, Vampire King. I’ve killed hundreds of your kind!"

"And yet, here you are, fighting me," Zalmic replied, raising his blade to meet the next strike.

They clashed again, the sound of metal and claw like thunder crashing through the arena. Sparks flew. Stone shattered. Blood and dust mixed into a crimson haze. The spectators screamed, scrambling for safety, while vampire lords and werewolf nobles watched their leaders clash with awe and terror.

"This... this is insane!"

a young spectator yelled, clutching the railing. "I’ve never seen such power in my life!"

Seemus growled, claws flashing faster, striking with fury born of centuries of hatred. Zalmic ducked, blocked, and countered—matching blow for blow with precision and deadly calm.

The arena floor cracked, columns collapsed, and the air itself seemed to shake with every strike. But despite the ferocity, neither Seemus nor Zalmic had yet unleashed their ultimate abilities.

It was raw skill, raw power... kings fighting kings.

Aamir, watching on the floating screen in the forest, let out a low whistle.

"Interesting. So Seemus isn’t holding back... and Zalmic is matching him blow for blow. I like this."

Syran and Gordon, still battling hordes of masked vampires and werewolves, glanced at the screen in horror.

"This isn’t good... if either falls, the arena won’t survive!" Syran shouted.

Zalmic blocked another overhead strike, feeling the full force of Seemus’s raw strength. He gritted his teeth but smiled faintly.

"Good... keep pushing, Seemus. I wanted a challenge."

Seemus snarled, muscles straining. "You’ll regret that!"

And with that, the two kings clashed once more, the sound of their fury echoing across the arena, leaving the crowd in sheer panic and awe.

The arena trembled beneath the force of the two kings’ clash. Columns lay shattered, stands crumbled, and dust rose in thick crimson clouds. Civilians scrambled, screaming as the fight tore through the heart of the arena.

Seemus planted his massive claws into the cracked floor, stepping back to measure Zalmic with a predatory glare. His crimson eyes burned with anticipation.

"Zalmic," he growled, "use your full power—or you won’t last long against me!"

Zalmic’s expression hardened, his calm demeanor shifting into something far more ominous. Slowly, he raised his obsidian blade, the crimson edge pulsing faintly with anticipation. His aura began to thicken, swirling with an almost liquid intensity.

"You asked for it, Seemus. Very well."

With a sweeping gesture, Zalmic unleashed his Crimson Sovereignty.

Instantly, the arena air thickened. Blood-red mist surged outward, curling like serpents around every pillar, every broken section of the stands. The sound of hearts pounding, of claws scraping, slowed—everything in the domain became heavy, sluggish, weighed down by the oppressive force of Zalmic’s blood magic.

Crimson Dominion.

Even the masked vampires, previously coordinating with precision, faltered. Their movements slowed; their strikes lost power. Werewolves, too, staggered, their momentum blunted as if an invisible hand pressed down upon them. The battlefield was suddenly Zalmic’s alone.

"By my command..." Zalmic murmured. His eyes glowed molten gold within the crimson storm, terrifying in their intensity.

From the mist, a massive figure began to form—a Blood Colossus, towering over both kings. Its body shimmered with liquid blood energy, spectral yet solid, muscles coiling like a living weapon. It raised a massive fist, sending shockwaves through the arena.

The crowd panicked. Screams rose in a chaotic symphony as civilians scrambled for tunnels. Vampire Lords fell to their knees, compelled by the King’s Edict, unable to resist. Only Aamir, Syran, and Gordon remained untouched by the blood compulsion, their beast-kin or mortal nature shielding them.

Seemus’s eyes widened for the first time in the fight.

"What... is this?!" he growled, claws slashing wildly, but even his strength seemed diminished under the weight of the domain.

Zalmic’s voice echoed like steel across the arena.

"Crimson Sovereignty. All within my domain is under my command. You face me, and me alone."

The Blood Colossus slammed its fist into the ground, sending a wave of crimson energy that sent masked vampires and werewolves flying back. Trees shattered; iron railings twisted like paper. The dust and blood mist swirled so thickly that the battlefield became a blur of red.

Seemus growled, crouching low, and lunged again—but every step was slowed, every strike dulled. The weight of the blood magic pressed down, testing the limits of even his apex strength.

"You... think you can dominate me?" Seemus snarled, veins pulsing, muscles straining. "I... will... survive!"

Zalmic’s blade swept lazily, redirecting a swipe of Seemus’s claws. The move alone sent shockwaves, throwing the Werewolf King back several meters. He hit the cracked stone floor with a thunderous CRASH!, the arena shuddering beneath the impact.

The Blood Colossus raised its massive arms again, forming a protective barrier around Zalmic while sending a pulse of weight that staggered Seemus further.

"You see now," Zalmic said, voice calm but deadly, "the true power of a Vampire King. Crimson Sovereignty is not to be underestimated."

The crowd’s panic reached a fever pitch. Screams of nobles and civilians mixed with howls and hisses of werewolves and vampires alike. The arena, once a place of spectacle, had become a warzone dominated by a single master of blood.

Seemus rose slowly, glaring through the crimson haze, claws flexing, fangs bared. He shook off some of the pressure, muscles rippling as he prepared to strike again.

"You may have unleashed this... but it will take more than tricks to kill me, Zalmic!"

Zalmic’s golden eyes glimmered. "I don’t need to kill you... yet. But you will remember this day, Seemus. Every strike you take, every step you stumble, every moment under my domain—it is mine to command."

Seemus bared his teeth and growled, leaping once more, claws aimed at Zalmic’s chest. But now, every motion was a battle against the invisible weight of the blood magic. The Colossus moved to intercept, blocking the charge.

The fight raged on.

The arena had become a sea of crimson mist and shattered stone, civilians fleeing in terror, vampire lords kneeling, and masked intruders caught in the overwhelming pressure of Zalmic’s domain. Yet the duel between king and king continued, fierce and unyielding.

Zalmic had shown his full power—but the fight was far from over.

And Seemus... he was only beginning to resist.