"Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Zevron Mordoc," the mysterious young man greeted. "May I know your name, Milady?".
"Rosenthal," Diane replied flatly, her voice a soft whisper that sounded like the blowing of a cold winter wind. Zevron held his chin, his expression appearing confused. "Hmm, what is that? Is that a family name? It sounds like a boring flower shop name". Kein could only remain silent beside Diane, his eyes fixed on the foreign young man in front of him. The atmosphere around Zevron began to feel oppressive, making the hair on Kein's neck stand up. However, Diane instead turned around casually, as if they were merely discussing the weather.
"Kein," Diane whispered, her voice clear without a hint of fear. "That vampire... he is no different from the spawn you just shot. Only a bit noisier and better at dressing". Kein was stunned, looking toward his master with a look of disbelief. The aura of the young man in front of them could clearly suffocate the mind of someone weak.
"What are you talking about? How can you ignore the opponent in front of you," Zevron said, his body gestures beginning to turn serious. "Enough with the introductions, let us fight seriously". Zevron reached for the collar of his black suit jacket, then with one calm but firm motion, he removed the jacket and let it fall onto the damp grave soil. Now he wore only a short-sleeved white shirt, revealing arms that were pale yet possessed tight and efficient-looking muscles.
He then roughly pulled the white glove from his right fingers using his teeth, then threw it aside. With sharpened fangs, he scratched his own thumb. Red droplets came out from behind the skin, and instantly the air in the cemetery chilled until their breath was clearly visible. The blood did not drip to the ground, but instead traveled upward, crawling over the exposed skin of his arm up to the elbow. Slowly, the flesh and skin mutated into a pulsing pale red color. Five long, sharply curved black claws protruded from the tips of his fingers, gleaming lethally under the moonlight—Crimson Devil: Talon.
"Kein, fight him," Diane said calmly. She lightly touched the shoulder of the young man beside her. The woman brought her lips close to the side of Kein's ear, and she whispered in a soft tone. "This time, fight using my Legacy".
The young man turned for a moment, then gave a small nod and a smile before finally stepping forward. Kein put his pistol back into the holster on his left waist. With his breathing beginning to steady, he opened his palm facing downward, calling upon the flow of energy that flowed from Diane's blood within his veins.
"Psionic Whip," Kein said calmly.
Instantly, the air in Kein's palm crackled violently. Psionic energy exploded out, but the color was no longer bright pink like Diane's, but a sharp and deep scarlet red. The light elongated and pulsed like a burning heartbeat in the middle of the darkness. Once flicked, the energy solidified into a bright whip that split the grave soil until it splashed blinding red sparks.
"Legacy? But that is only a loan, let me show you the difference in our power". Zevron did not wait any longer. With a low roar, he charged forward. His speed was extraordinary, leaving a trail of parted fog as his long black claws were swung with lethal precision. Kein launched his scarlet whip, trying to aim for the neck. Zevron quickly parried the attack with the claw on his right hand.
"Impressive, but not fast enough," his opponent commented, before charging forward again. Kein continued to lash his weapon, not as fast as Diane, but enough to keep his opponent on the defensive and looking for a position.
"Utterly ridiculous!" Zevron snapped. Suddenly, from behind his back, a pair of large leather-textured wings—Crimson Devil: Wings—burst through his white shirt and spread wide. The surge of emotions for both increased; they attacked each other at close range. Zevron lunged from above, but his claws were held back by a scarlet-colored energy shield—Psionic Shield—that appeared just in time. Zevron attacked blindly, flying and striking from every position.
Kein defended desperately, repeatedly manifesting his shield which shattered time and again from the impact of the claws. Sparks from the collision of claws and energy lit up the silent cemetery like endless lightning. "Keep defending like that," Zevron said, continuing to apply pressure. The whip was lashed whenever there was an opportunity, but Zevron parried the energy blast with his black claws, then jumped backward to take distance.
"Not bad, spawn," he praised in a high tone, his breath beginning to quicken but his eyes glowing with murderous passion. "But now, I will not let you defend that easily". Zevron reached for his left hand with a motion of pulling something from the empty air. Instantly, a longsword with darkness, like a starless night—Night Sovereign—appeared just like that in his grip. A cold aura radiated from its blade, freezing the grass beneath his feet.
"A summoned weapon?" Kein said, slightly shocked.
"I will pierce your heart, and bring it to that woman behind you as an offering," Zevron threatened with a sharp grin. Kein gripped the handle of his whip tightly, cold sweat flowing on his temples. He looked back for a moment toward Diane. "Diane, this whip is not effective if he attacks that close," he said in a low tone, realizing that his long-range weapon was not as fast as his opponent's sword.
Kein looked at Zevron again; his facial expression changed, and his doubt was now locked behind a firm determination. He closed his eyes, focusing the entire flow of Diane's blood pulsing in his veins. He chanted a whisper of a spell that shook the air around him.
"Enhance Ability, Strength". His arm muscles tightened, filled with red energy.
"Enhance Ability, Agility". His body weight felt light, and his nerves sharpened.
"Psionic," Kein whispered. Once he opened his eyes, his pair of eyes seemed to glow, infected by the overflowing surge of spirit. The scarlet whip in his grip suddenly vibrated violently, letting out a deafening crackle of electricity before forcibly shrinking. The surge of energy solidified, wrapping his right hand in a blinding red flash until it reached a sharply pointed end.
"BLADE!".
In one explosion of energy, the flexible whip had fully mutated. Now, what Kein held in his hand was a deep scarlet-colored energy sword blade with a sharp curve near the handle. The roar of its energy sounded very stable, creating a low humming sound that seemed to slice the air even before the sword was swung. Diane remained standing still in her position, her eyes showing a hint of interest as she observed Kein's back and that scarlet sword carefully—a new form of transformation of her Psionic Energy—Legacy.
Zevron, seeing the change, narrowed his eyes. His grin disappeared, replaced by high vigilance. "Changing weapons will not change your fate, spawn!". Kein did not answer. He lowered his body, bending his right leg deeply while pulling his scarlet sword straight behind his back, hiding the blade from the opponent's view.
Sword Form: Gale.
With the boost of Enhance Agility, Kein exploded from his position. He launched himself like a bullet. "ZEVRON!".
As the distance between them closed, Kein's waist twisted, whipping the hidden sword in one ferocious horizontal swing. Clang—Bzzzt!. It was not merely the clink of metal, but an explosion of the sound of energy repelling each other. Kein's psionic sword let out reddish sparks of electricity as it rubbed against Zevron's cold black blade. The ground beneath Kein's feet cracked due to the extraordinary gravitational pressure from Zevron pressing down from above. At such close range, Kein could smell the aroma of blood and death from Zevron's breath, while their red eyes locked onto each other in hatred.
The collision created a shockwave that forced both of them to jump backward to take distance for a moment. Kein did not let his momentum die. He lowered his stance, then charged forward again while twisting his body to deliver a horizontal slash aiming for the stomach. Zevron flapped his wings, trying to fly backward. However, the tip of the Psionic Blade moved faster, successfully tearing his white shirt and leaving a thin red line on the vampire's stomach skin.
Annoyed at being wounded, Zevron landed and immediately retaliated with a diagonal slash from bottom to top, aiming for the neck. Kein did not have time to parry. He tilted his head back at the last second, letting the lethal blade pass just a hair's breadth from his throat. Despite escaping death, the tip of the black sword still slashed his chin, dripping fresh blood. Ignoring the sting, Kein pulled the Psionic Blade to the side of his waist and released two successive cross slashes.
Slash! Slash!.
Zevron managed to parry the first slash, but the second slash cleanly tore the remainder of his shirt and left a gaping wound on his chest. As an instant retaliation, his Crimson Devil claws struck forward, successfully ripping Kein's cheek. Now, both young men continued to swing their weapons without stopping. The speed of their hands clashing was so intense that it only left flashes of red and black in the air. They looked for narrow gaps in the opponent's defense, not caring that blood continued to pour from their bodies, dampening the cemetery soil.
Kein immediately retreated and changed his stance, his right hand holding the Psionic Blade with the blade positioned diagonally upward—protecting the centerline of his body with an angle that was hard to predict. Meanwhile, his left hand was free, maintaining balance.
Sword Form: Grace.
"WHY? ALREADY TIRED, BOY?!" Zevron shouted with a bloodthirsty laugh, charging again with a combination of sword and claws. Kein no longer held back that collision; he danced. Every time Zevron's black sword slashed, Kein only moved his wrist slightly, parrying the attack with the sharp side of his blade and letting Zevron's heavy weapon slide in vain to the side.
Trang! Trang! Wussh!.
The fight turned into a blinding clash of speed. Zevron attacked brutally, yet the tip of Kein's sword seemed to have eyes of its own, always in the right spot to deflect fatal attacks. Occasionally, Kein utilized the reach of his single hand to quickly stab back, forcing Zevron to cancel his attack to protect his neck.