"It seems you've reached your limit," Haruki said, his voice flat as he looked at the gasping Irene.
His eyes, usually a sharp violet, were now clouded with a heavy, pulsating crimson. Unlike Irene, who had surrendered her mind to the scythe's hunger, Haruki was the master of his own internal storm. He had adapted to the Blood Burst state, maintaining his cold, analytical focus even as his heart hammered with the force of a tectonic shift.
Irene, on the other hand, was a mess of biological instability. After gorging on her sister's life force, she had become little more than a vehicle for the Gravisheath's rage. She was a wild animal, dangerous and unpredictable, but devoid of the warrior's intent.
Haruki felt the standard Varanium blade in his hand—Onikiri—begin to vibrate. The metal was groaning, fine cracks spiderwebbing along the edge. It couldn't handle the output of his current state much longer.
With a flick of his wrist, he sheathed the katana and reached for the massive black hilt of the Ser-Veresta.
Because his synchronization was a perfect 100%, the Demon Sword didn't just activate; it sang. A pillar of high-intensity crimson heat erupted from the hilt, stabilizing into a blade of pure, translucent fire.
WHOOSH!
Haruki didn't wait. He closed the distance in a heartbeat, appearing at Irene's side. He didn't use the sword; he delivered a crushing kick to her ribs.
BOOM!
Even with her gravity-reinforced body, Irene was sent skidding across the arena like a stone skipping over water. She crashed into the defensive barrier, the impact rattling the entire stadium.
"Gah... hack..."
The pain momentarily cleared the fog in her brain. She looked up at Haruki, her eyes wide with a mix of terror and disbelief. "How...? How can a human... be this fast...?"
She turned her desperate gaze toward Priscilla. "More! Give me more! I can't lose to this monster! I need more blood!!"
"Sister?"
Priscilla gasped, her voice trembling. Anyone could see the gap between Irene and Haruki was a canyon. Even after drinking Priscilla's blood, Irene hadn't been able to land a single meaningful strike. To ask for more was to ask for Priscilla to be drained dry—and for Irene to burn out her own nervous system in the process.
However, Priscilla possessed a unique "Vessel" trait: her body could regenerate blood and tissue at an accelerated rate. To her, blood loss was just another wound to be healed. This was why the sisters were an inseparable pair.
But Priscilla's concern wasn't for herself. She saw the way Irene's skin was already beginning to crack under the strain of the scythe's power. If she gave her more, Irene might never come back from the madness.
"Don't worry about me, Priscilla!" Irene screamed, her voice cracking with a manic intensity. "I'm the master of this blade! I won't let it swallow me! Just give me the power to crush him!!"
Priscilla hesitated, then nodded with a look of tragic resolve. She unfastened her collar again, offering the curve of her neck to the beast her sister had become.
Irene lunged, her fangs sinking deep.
Haruki stood still, watching the exchange with a clinical detachedness. He wasn't stopping them. He wanted to see the absolute peak of this "Blood-Fueled" path. He wanted to understand the harmonics of external energy absorption. To him, the Urzaiz sisters were a living textbook on the darker side of the Fluctuation.
THUD.
Irene let go of her sister and stood up. Her pupils were gone, replaced by glowing violet voids. Her muscles bulged, tearing the sleeves of her uniform. The spiritual pressure she radiated was so heavy it felt like physical weight pressing down on every spectator in the Sirius Dome.
Priscilla slumped to the floor, pale and gasping for air.
"I will... NOT... LOSE!" Irene roared.
"—THOUSANDFOLD HELLS!"
She swung the scythe. Suddenly, dozens of purple gravitational chains erupted from the arena floor, lashing out like snakes to bind Haruki's limbs.
Haruki finally showed a hint of a smile. He raised the Ser-Veresta.
SHING!
A horizontal sweep of crimson heat tore through the air. The gravitational chains were sliced through as if they were made of silk. The extreme thermal output of the Demon Sword simply unraveled the mana threads of her spell.
But Irene was already in the air. She had used the chains as a distraction. She gripped the Gravisheath with both hands and brought it down in a vertical overhead strike.
"ABSOLUTE RUIN!"
The air itself seemed to peel back. The spatial distortion around the scythe was so intense that Haruki's Sense of Fluctuation registered a "void" in reality.
KABOOM!
The collision sent a shockwave that finally shattered the first layer of the arena's energy barrier. Fragments of light fell like glass.
When the smoke cleared, the two were locked in a stalemate. Haruki had blocked the scythe with the flat of his Greatsword. His feet were buried six inches deep in the reinforced concrete, but his arms were steady.
"You've reached the limit of your biology," Haruki said, looking into Irene's dead eyes.
He was right. Irene's skin was beginning to flake away, her own blood seeping from her pores as her capillaries burst under the pressure of her own Star Pulse. She was trading her existence for a few more seconds of power.
"Sister... please, stop..." Priscilla sobbed from the sidelines.
Haruki felt the final "vibration" he needed. He had seen enough.
"You fought well," Haruki said, his voice dropping to a low, chilling whisper. "Now, let me show you how a real master handles blood."
RUMBLE!
Haruki released his hold on the Ser-Veresta's physical form, letting the sword hover in front of him, held in place by his sheer mental will.
He didn't just flare his own blood; he reached out with his Sense of Fluctuation and gripped the energy of the battlefield itself.
The blood that Irene had spilled—the red mist hanging in the air—suddenly began to swirl toward Haruki. It didn't touch him; it formed a violent, rotating vortex around his right arm.
"Blood-Snatcher Sealed Demon Slasher!"
This was a technique from his Level 3 Darkin path, adapted for his human form.
He didn't need to damage himself anymore. He became a "Snatcher," a predator that harvested the spilled essence of the fight to fuel a singular, conceptual strike.
"WHAT?!" Irene shrieked, her voice a distorted echo.
She swung the scythe one last time, a desperate "TEN-THOUSAND HELLS" that threatened to collapse the entire stage.
Haruki didn't dodge. He thrust his right hand forward, and the vortex of blood and dark energy exploded outward.
CRACK!
The Gravisheath—the legendary scythe that had dominated the Festa for years—shuddered. The violet light of the blade flickered, then dimmed. Haruki's strike didn't just hit the weapon; it "consumed" the mana within it.
The scythe let out a final, metallic scream and reverted to its deactivated handle form.
Irene, her source of power gone and her body drained of every drop of energy, stood frozen for a second. The cracks on her skin glowed with a faint, dying light before she collapsed forward, hitting the ground with a dull thud.
The stadium was silent.
Haruki stood in the center of the ruin, the Ser-Veresta returning to its dormant state on his back. He looked over at the unconscious Irene and the weeping Priscilla. He didn't say a word. He simply turned and walked toward the exit.
"Match over!" the AI shrieked, its voice glitching from the EMP of the battle. "Winner: Haruki Aizawa!"
As he walked through the tunnel, Haruki felt the Darkin hunger recede, replaced by a deep, resonant satisfaction. He had mastered the Fire Wave. He had learned the Blood Snatch.
He was ready for the finals.
***********************************************
For advanced chapters up to 20 chapter ahead is on my Patreon
My Patreon name : M7md_sol
Current amount of chapters on Patreon : 112
If your having trouble reaching my Patreon
Just write M7md_sol Patreon on Google search and I'll probably be the first page that shows up and thanks for any support you guys give
Discord in the comments