Lunaria's calm expression finally shifted.
Not with anger—
but with growing irritation.
Aldric simply refused to stay down.
No matter how many times he was cut apart—
he returned.
Again.
Again.
Again.
His grin never faded.
"...Getting annoyed?"
He laughed.
"...Good."
"I'm just getting started."
He charged once more.
The poleaxe roared through the air.
Lunaria disappeared.
A flash of emerald.
Aldric's grin faltered.
"...Fast—"
**SHHK!!**
His head left his shoulders.
It spun through the air.
Before the body could even fall—
emerald flashes danced around it.
**SHHK!**
**SHHK!**
**SHHK!**
Blade after blade carved through him.
His torso split open.
One wing was severed.
His legs were nearly cut apart.
Blood erupted in every direction.
Lunaria never paused.
He stepped through the dismembered body.
His emerald sword was already descending toward Draven.
Draven didn't retreat.
Instead—
his left hand shot forward.
Straight toward the incoming blade.
Lunaria's golden eyes narrowed.
*...The glove.*
He remembered.
During their earlier exchange—
that strange black glove had endured an attack without a scratch.
At the final instant—
his wrist twisted.
The emerald blade curved.
Rather than striking the palm—
it slid across the back of Draven's hand.
**SHHK!**
The blade cut cleanly through his forearm.
The severed hand spun away.
Yet the sword never stopped.
It continued toward Draven's face.
Draven's crimson eyes never wavered.
**CLANG!!**
His black blade intercepted it.
Sparks exploded as black steel collided with condensed wind.
Without losing momentum—
Draven rotated his wrist.
His sword scraped along Lunaria's blade.
The dark strands coating its edge screamed against the emerald mana.
He redirected the sword upward.
A vicious upward slash burst toward Lunaria's jaw.
**BOOM!!**
The ground beneath them shattered.
Lunaria leaned back just enough for the black blade to miss.
The dark edge tore through the air before his face.
Several strands of silver hair drifted downward.
He immediately pushed off the ground.
A violent burst of wind exploded beneath his feet.
**BOOOOM!!**
He shot backward—
creating dozens of meters of distance in an instant.
The moment his boots touched the ground—
another crimson presence was already upon him.
"...MISS ME?!"
Aldric's laughter echoed across the battlefield.
His head had already regenerated.
Fresh flesh covered every wound.
The poleaxe was raised high overhead.
Crimson mana erupted around its edge.
Then—
it came crashing down.
**BOOOOOOOOOOM!!**
High above the ruined battlefield—
Lunaria hovered silently.
His emerald wings of wind stirred the smoke below.
Dust rolled through the shattered clearing.
The crater beneath him slowly became visible.
At its center—
Draven and Aldric still stood.
Neither had fallen.
Aldric rolled his shoulders before clicking his tongue.
"...After all that..."
He glanced up at the elf.
"...the bastard doesn't even have a scratch."
His grin slowly faded.
"...This isn't looking too good."
He looked down at the hole through his chest.
The wound had already disappeared.
"...If I hadn't moved my heart..."
"...I'd probably be dead."
A brief pause.
"...Well."
"...Maybe not."
He laughed to himself.
"...But the point still stands."
He rested the poleaxe against one shoulder.
"...We can't keep this up forever."
Above—
Lunaria's golden eyes never left Draven.
For the first time since the battle began—
he spoke about something other than killing him.
"...His mana..."
Behind him—
Sylph smiled knowingly.
"...Don't tell me you're only noticing now."
She folded her hands behind her back.
"...Unlike the other vampire's blood mana..."
"...that one's completely different."
Her emerald gaze settled upon Draven.
"...The mana inside him..."
"...isn't his."
Silence.
"It isn't refined."
"It isn't controlled."
"It is raw."
"...Exactly like the mana contained within a magical beast."
She tilted her head slightly.
"...He's imprisoning it."
"...Forcing it to remain inside his body."
Her smile slowly disappeared.
"...And in doing so..."
"...it's constantly tearing him apart from the inside."
Even Lunaria remained silent.
Sylph continued quietly.
"...Someone carrying that much unstable mana..."
"...shouldn't be alive."
"...Much less standing."
She looked at Draven with genuine curiosity.
"...Yet here he is."
"...Still moving."
"...Still fighting."
"...As though nothing is wrong."
A faint smile returned.
"...Don't you find that interesting?"
Lunaria answered after several seconds.
"...I do."
Below—
Draven calmly looked up.
His newly regenerated left hand flexed once.
He picked up the black glove from the broken ground.
Then slowly pulled it over his fingers.
Perfectly.
As though nothing had happened moments earlier.
Next—
he raised the black blade.
With a flick of his wrist—
it vanished into his storage ring.
Aldric blinked.
"...Huh?"
Draven's expression remained unreadable.
"...We don't have to."
A brief pause.
"...We're done."
Aldric stared at him for a second.
Then a slow grin spread across his face.
"...Is that so?"
He let out a laugh.
"...Playtime's over, huh?"
His crimson eyes gleamed with anticipation.
"...Alright then."
He raised one finger toward the sky.
"...Time for the grand finale."
The air trembled.
Crimson mana erupted from every direction.
One blood spear formed.
Then another.
Then ten.
Then fifty.
Within seconds—
hundreds of blood spears filled the night sky.
Each one hummed with terrifying power.
They continued appearing without end.
Covering the heavens like a crimson constellation.
Even Sylph's smile faded slightly as she watched the countless blood weapons materialize overhead.
The battlefield grew deathly still.
Everyone knew—
whatever happened next—
would decide the battle.