Thalion ducked beneath a sweeping claw, pivoting low before driving a sharp kick into the shin of the infuriatingly powerful vampiress pursuing him through the chaos. The chamber around them erupted with constant detonations, echoing booms of magic, the metallic clash of weapons, and the anguished cries of both human and vampire. Flames danced along the cracked stone walls, casting long, frantic shadows in a war-torn blaze. His forces had finally breached the chamber fully, evening the odds. But Thalion had no time to savor the tide turning, not with death snapping at his heels.

She was relentless. Her aura surged with a primal, intoxicating power that mirrored his own Heart of the Sanguine Archon. At first, the battle had been manageable. She hadn’t yet understood the depth of her Sanguine Thorn’s power, and Thalion had been able to dance around her, using his Crimson Virethorn to stall her advances. But blood, blood was a volatile element for both of them. Each attempt to unleash their blood-based skills spiraled out of control, the energies clashing violently and canceling each other out.

That suited her just fine. She abandoned magic for melee, where she clearly held the upper hand. Her claws were like obsidian blades fast, deadly, and unnervingly precise and her thorned vines lashed like serpents. Thalion found himself purely on the defensive, surviving rather than retaliating. He couldn’t pressure her with Crimson Virethorn, not with how she deflected it effortlessly, and most of his blood spells were now useless in this clash of equals. His only option remained his sword, but even that demanded distance, and she gave him none.

Every time he tried to create space, her vines coiled around him or swept toward his legs. The sheer speed of her assault bordered on the absurd, and Thalion silently cursed that such power existed unchecked. His fireball skill was too slow, too weak, mere embers against the storm. And despite landing several slashes, some deep enough to cut through flesh, she never faltered, never cried out, not even a twitch of pain. Her regeneration was instantaneous, unnerving, and absolute.

Still, there was one weapon he had left: his bloodline.

Crimson flames licked around him, leaving trails of light as he wove through the inferno. The middle of the chamber was an ocean of fire, and while the flames seemed to do little to her directly, they fueled his strength. She pressed him harder, and parts of his armor were torn away by her claws, each hit sending shards of metal flying. But Thalion didn’t counter. He evaded, luring her deeper into the burning maelstrom, weaving through collapsing barricades and the confused ranks of other vampires.

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This tactic wasn’t without cost. Several vampires managed to land blows on him as he passed, but thanks to his title, he bent away from danger with preternatural grace. Blades scraped off his armor, cutting into the plating but failing to pierce flesh. Pain barely registered anymore. Back on Earth, perhaps, he might have winced. But now, after so many battles, so many ascensions, this level of suffering was background noise.

His armor mended itself. Wounds knit together seconds after they opened. His regeneration and resistance enhanced by Sanguine Ascendance, a passive he’d only recently acquired, kept him alive in the center of a fight he could not afford to lose.

Over time, he began to read her better. The vampiress wasn’t unskilled, but she relied too heavily on brute force. Her attacks lacked finesse. No feints, no layered deception, just overwhelming speed and strength. Thalion, in contrast, had trained in the Golden Palace for nearly a year under master tacticians and battle mages. She might have lived for centuries, but she hadn’t grown under the System’s pressure. She hadn’t been forged in combat against enemies of equal might.

If only he had a weapon that could truly harm her, something beyond his blade. He knew, if he had just one tool strong enough to wound her past her regeneration, he could turn the tide.

But as it stood, Thalion remained on the run, dodging, slipping, weaving through fire and blood. Every so often, he’d land a shallow cut or a quick kick to destabilize her stance. And then he’d be off again, chased by a fury wrapped in claws and thorns.

The only ability Thalion had not yet unleashed was his bloodline skill. With it, he could either replicate one of his existing techniques or forge a weapon capable of delivering a singular, devastating blow, powerful enough to kill nearly anything at his grade. But against the vampiress, even that seemed uncertain. At best, it might wound her. She was simply too fast, too powerful, and too calculating to fall to a single attack, no matter how overwhelming.