CHAPTER 190: BLOOD VS SPEED

The battle raged on between Seemus and Zalmic, their ferocity shaking the arena to its very core. Seemus’s raw strength clashed with Zalmic’s calculated precision, every movement a clash of titanic power. Zalmic’s blade sliced through the air, parrying Seemus’s monstrous claws with ease, while Seemus retaliated with blinding speed, his form a blur of savage might.

"You can’t keep up with me forever, Zalmic!" Seemus roared, his fangs bared, claws aiming for Zalmic’s heart.

"I don’t need to," Zalmic replied, effortlessly dodging and delivering a quick slash across Seemus’s side. Blood sprayed, but Seemus barely flinched, his fangs gleaming brighter.

The crowd was on edge, the arena shaking with every blow. Yet, just as it seemed like Seemus would overwhelm the Vampire King, an oppressive force descended. A surge of pressure, thick and unyielding, flooded the entire arena, making even the strongest of combatants falter.

Meanwhile...

The chaos of battle transitioned to the Blood Valley, where Aamir, Gordon, and Syran were locked in their own fray. Masked vampires and werewolves lay scattered across the bloodied ground, their numbers dwindling as the trio continued their relentless assault.

Aamir laughed, his voice carrying over the battlefield. "This is fun! But now I’m getting bored..."

Gordon and Syran were panting, their bodies battered but not broken. The two werewolves beside Aamir had nearly exhausted all their strength, having already killed nearly 1,000 foes.

Suddenly, a voice echoed from behind them.

"Well, let us join the fun..."

Aamir turned, his grin widening as three towering figures emerged from the shadows.

Fenric Bloodfang, his fur dark as night with eyes burning like embers, snarled as he stepped forward. Beside him, Ralkor the Ironhide, his massive form clad in natural armor, cracked his knuckles, the sound echoing across the valley. Finally, Vexa Moonscar, her sleek body moving with deadly grace, flashed a wicked grin.

"Oh, so the champions come themselves to fight us?" Aamir said, his voice filled with excitement. "Well, well, now it’s getting fun again."

The three champions of the werewolves stood tall under the crimson haze of Blood Valley, their presence alone enough to make the very ground tremble. Fenric Bloodfang’s crazed grin revealed his elongated fangs, his eyes burning with wild bloodlust.

Aamir tilted his head, calm as ever, pointing at Fenric with a casual gesture.

"This one—he’s mine. You two can take whichever of the others you want."

Gordon and Syran, both still panting from the massacre of hundreds of masked foes, exchanged a glance. They understood Aamir’s nature well enough by now—when he chose a prey, he meant it.

Fenric let out a manic laugh, licking the blood off his fangs.

"Oh, you dare single me out? Fine. I’ll see just how strong you are to challenge me!"

In a blur, Fenric lunged forward, his clawed fist shooting straight at Aamir’s face. The air cracked from the force of the strike.

Aamir didn’t even flinch. He raised one hand and caught the punch mid-air. For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath—then the sheer force behind Fenric’s blow pushed Aamir back, his boots skidding across the blood-soaked earth.

Instead of anger, Aamir’s lips curled into a smirk.

"Hm. Strong... but not enough."

With that, his own fist lashed forward, swift and precise. Fenric roared and countered with his other fist, their punches colliding with a thunderous crack. The shockwave shook the battlefield, sending dust and pebbles flying like a storm.

For a heartbeat, it looked evenly matched. But then—a sickening crunch echoed through the valley. Fenric’s hand crumpled under the pressure, his bones shattering like brittle twigs, crushed to powder by Aamir’s strength.

"GRAAHH!" Fenric howled, staggering back, clutching his mangled arm. His face twisted, but instead of pain, a savage grin returned. Before their eyes, the broken bones snapped back into place, his flesh knitting itself together in seconds.

"It’s useless!" Fenric barked, his voice wild. "Break me as many times as you want—I’ll regenerate instantly!"

Aamir’s crimson eyes gleamed, his smirk deepening into something darker.

"Then I’ll destroy you so fast that even your instant regeneration won’t keep up."

The air grew heavier, charged with bloodlust, as the true battle between predator and predator was about to begin.

The arena of Blood Valley quaked as the three werewolf champions stood tall, their presence alone spreading fear through the air like venom.

While Aamir faced off against Fenric Bloodfang, Gordon’s eyes locked on the second monster — Vexa Moonscar.

She was unlike the brute Fenric. Her movements blurred, her outline melting into streaks of silver fur and glimmers of moonlight. Each step she took split the ground beneath her, sending shards of rock flying.

"Fast, huh?" Gordon muttered, lips curling into a smirk as his crimson eyes narrowed. "Let’s see if that’s all you’ve got."

Vexa tilted her head, her voice a low growl that almost purred.

"Prey should not taunt a predator. You’ll regret that mouth of yours."

The next instant, she vanished.

A faint whisper of displaced air was Gordon’s only warning. His instincts screamed, and he crossed his arms in front of him just in time to catch her first strike. Her claw slashed across his forearm, tearing through skin like paper. Blood sprayed — but Gordon only grinned.

"Perfect."

He raised his hands. The blood spilled from his wound didn’t fall to the ground. Instead, it froze mid-air, glowing dark red, and coiled around him like living serpents. The pools of blood from the corpses they had slaughtered earlier answered his call too. A river of crimson floated up, swirling like a storm.

In seconds, nearly three liters of blood floated around him, writhing with killing intent.

Vexa stopped for a moment, her golden eyes narrowing. "Blood manipulation... Disgusting trick."

Gordon laughed darkly. "Disgusting? Wait until you taste it."

He clenched his fist. The liquid twisted into shape.

– A hardened armor clamped onto his chest and shoulders, jagged and sharp.

– Twin blood-forged swords extended from his hands, their edges gleaming like obsidian blades dipped in red.

– And behind him, six flat, plate-like blades hovered, spinning slowly, each sharp enough to slice steel.

He stood like a crimson knight of nightmares.

"Now," Gordon’s grin widened, fangs glinting, "you’ll see my wrath."

Vexa didn’t flinch. Instead, she smirked, flashing her fangs. "Try."

And she vanished again.

Her speed was blistering — like lightning wrapped in flesh. Gordon’s eyes tracked her faint blur, but she was already circling him, claws tearing at the edges of his armor. Sparks flew as her claws scraped the hardened blood, each strike a thunderclap in his ears.

Gordon didn’t panic. He let her dance.

Then — CLANG!

The first of his floating blades shot out like a bullet, slashing at her trajectory. Vexa tilted her head mid-run, the blade missing her by inches, but Gordon was already moving the others.

One. Two. Three.

The air filled with the ringing of blades cutting through space, each one controlled by Gordon’s precise gestures. Vexa weaved and darted like a ghost, but one miscalculation left a streak of blood across her thigh.

Her golden eyes flashed with rage.

"Clever rat," she hissed.

Gordon’s smirk deepened. "Bleeding already? Don’t tell me the big bad wolf can’t handle a little sting."

She snarled and lunged. This time, she didn’t circle. She came straight at him, claws aimed for his throat.

Gordon’s swords crossed to block — KRRRANG! The impact made his arms rattle, strength surging through her blow like a hammer. His boots skidded on the rocky ground, carving trenches.

She didn’t relent. Each strike was faster than the last, claws hammering his defenses with bone-crushing ferocity. Sparks and shards of blood-armor flew with every collision.

But Gordon fought back, his swords moving in a dance of crimson steel. At the same time, his floating plates spun like saw blades, slashing at Vexa whenever she closed in too much.

It was a deadly exchange — her speed versus his control.

"Not bad," Gordon admitted as her claw finally managed to rip a crack across his shoulder armor. "But you’ll need more than speed to kill me."

Vexa’s grin widened, revealing blood-stained fangs. "And you’ll need more than tricks to touch me."

She darted past him, claws grazing his side. Gordon grunted as fresh blood spilled, but instead of weakening him, it only added to his arsenal. The crimson mist around him thickened, shaping into sharper blades.

Suddenly, the entire battlefield shimmered with floating scarlet edges, circling Gordon like a storm of death.

Vexa paused, her grin faltering slightly as she realized she had entered his territory.

"Your speed is impressive," Gordon said coldly, his voice echoing like a predator’s growl. "But speed means nothing if there’s no safe place left to run."

And then — he unleashed it.

The blood storm whirled into motion, blades and shards cutting through the arena like a tornado. Vexa leapt back, flipping in the air as the first wave sliced past her, cutting deep into the ground where she had just stood.

Her eyes gleamed, excitement rising. "Finally... something worth hunting."

She blurred forward again, weaving through the crimson storm. Blades slashed, slicing her fur, cutting shallow wounds across her arms and legs — but none struck deep enough. She was weaving through the storm itself, her speed keeping her one step ahead of death.

Gordon growled, sweat dripping from his temple. Controlling so many blood-forged blades at once strained him. But he didn’t back down.

"Let’s see how long you can keep dodging!"

He sent all six floating blades after her at once, weaving them into unpredictable angles. At the same time, he slashed forward with his dual swords, creating no openings.

For the first time, Vexa’s face showed tension. A thin crimson line appeared across her cheek as one blade nicked her mid-spin. She snarled.

Then — FLASH!

She vanished again, reappearing right above Gordon. Her claws glowed faintly under the moonlight, charged with raw energy.

"Moonscar Rend!" she roared, slashing down with a strike that could tear mountains apart.

Gordon’s eyes widened, but instead of fear, he laughed. His armor glowed as he forced every last drop of gathered blood into it, the crimson layer thickening into a shield.

The world shook.

Her claws struck. His shield held. For a moment, it seemed like the two forces were locked in a stalemate — predator versus predator.

The ground beneath them cracked, blood spraying into the air like a scarlet rain.

And both warriors grinned savagely.

The fight had only just begun.