Hanako, Francis, and Edward moved further up north-west to wreak havoc. This is where several of Lily's gates brought hundreds of more vampires. There was plenty of Hunters, including 1st Rank Hunters outside of the main battlefield. But they had no chance against these 3. They slaughtered every human who came within their sights. There's no fire here, just pure carnage. Blood spray everywhere and littered corpses.
Sazan: "So this is where you've been Hanako. I've been looking for you."
Hanako licks the blood of his lips: "Sazan. And who may this be? Oh wait… you're with Odd Jobs."
Sazan: "Was."
Hanako: "Ho?"
Beatrice: "I'm the daughter of Lysander. I died in battle and was reincarnated here in Shioto as a half-vampire."
Edward: "Daughter of Lysander you say?!"
Francis: "What a bizzare twist of fate."
Hanako just looks genuinely shocked for a seconds, then puts a hand over his face as he laughs: "Hahahaha. I can't believe it. There's no way that's a lie. You would know, wouldn't you Sazan? You've fought under him before after all."
Sazan: "She speaks the truth. We were close comrades."
Hanako claps his hands in amusement: "Is that so? Is that so? So you're not the only one?"
Beatrice: "?"
Hanako: "So you're joining us? That's great news. But I can't help but notice hesitation in your eyes. I hope you don't have any lingering feelings you've caught by living amongst humans."
Beatrice: "You don't need to worry. I've made up my mind."
Hanako: "Well that's wonderful! Okay fellas, let's get back to work."
***
Black thorns had Dallas pinned against the remains of a shattered building.
They wrapped around his arms, chest, waist, and legs, their hooked edges biting through his clothes and into his skin whenever he moved. Several black roses had already bloomed around him, suspended on twisting vines with their petals slowly opening toward his body.
His sword lay several meters away.
Fitzgerald stood in front of him.
He looked almost untouched.
Dallas, on the other hand, was covered in cuts. Blood ran from his forehead, shoulder, and side, while smaller wounds marked nearly every part of his coat.
Fitzgerald: "You simply stood no chance without an Alter Blade."
Dallas looked down at the thorns holding him.
Then back at Fitzgerald.
Dallas: "My swordsmanship wasn't at the level it should've been. That's all there is to it."
Fitzgerald stared at him for a moment.
Fitzgerald: "Even now?"
Dallas: "Especially now."
The roses surrounding him opened completely.
Dozens of razor-black petals lifted into the air.
Fitzgerald raised one hand.
Dallas exhaled.
There was nowhere to move.
Then something cut through the thorns.
One slash.
Heavy.
Fast.
The vines around Dallas' chest split apart.
Another strike severed the bindings around his arms before the petals could fire.
A man rushed straight through the opening.
He didn't stop to check Dallas.
Didn't ask if he was injured.
He simply planted one hand against Fitzgerald's chest and shoved him away from the execution point.
Fitzgerald slid backward.
His eyes narrowed.
The stranger immediately followed.
Black roses fired.
The man kept running.
For half a second, it looked reckless.
Then his sword moved.
One petal split.
Then three.
Then six.
His blade tore through the barrage in brutal, compact swings, each strike carrying enough weight to smash the incoming roses apart while still returning to guard almost instantly.
Fitzgerald raised Black Rose.
The Hunter reached him.
His sword came down.
Fitzgerald jumped backward.
The blade missed him by inches and smashed into the street.
Stone cracked beneath the impact.
Fitzgerald landed farther away.
The Hunter had already turned.
He jumped toward Dallas' discarded sword, tucked his shoulder, rolled across the ground, and came up with the weapon in his free hand.
Dallas had barely finished tearing the remaining thorns from his legs when his sword came spinning toward him.
He caught it by the grip.
The stranger immediately ran back to his side.
Dallas raised his blade.
Dallas: "You have my thanks. You saved me. What's your name?"
The man stared ahead.
His face barely moved.
?: "John Ham."
His voice was deep and raspy.
John: "Let's kill this son of a bitch."
Dallas glanced toward Fitzgerald.
Then at the blood running down his own arm.
Dallas: "I admire your grit, but we should retreat for now."
John looked at him.
John: "No."
Dallas: "He has an Alter Blade. We're at a substantial disadvantage."
John: "Then we kill him before it matters."
Dallas studied him.
No anger showed on John's face.
No excitement either.
He sounded as though he had just stated the weather.
Dallas looked back toward Fitzgerald.
Black roses were already spreading across the road again.
It didn't take long to understand how this was going to go.
Dallas sighed.
Dallas: "Alright."
He shifted into stance.
Dallas: "Let's take on the S.O.B."
John stepped forward.
No smile.
No response.
Just movement.
Fitzgerald extended one hand.
A wall of black roses erupted from the street between them.
John accelerated.
Dallas went with him.
The first wave of petals came low.
Dallas stepped over one and cut through another, his movements tight and economical. John attacked the barrage differently, meeting it head-on and carving a path straight through with violent two-handed swings.
A thorn vine shot from beneath the roses.
Dallas saw it.
Dallas: "Left."
John shifted half a step.
The vine missed his leg.
Dallas cut it apart.
Three more came from the opposite side.
John slammed his blade down and severed two at once.
The third wrapped around his forearm.
He didn't stop.
John grabbed the vine with his free hand and yanked.
The entire cluster of roses attached to it lurched toward him.
Fitzgerald's eyes sharpened.
John cut through all of them in a single horizontal slash.
Dallas slipped past him.
Fitzgerald met Dallas first.
Their blades collided.
Dallas immediately felt the difference from before.
Fitzgerald still had the advantage.
Black Rose reinforced every defensive angle with vines and petals, allowing him to commit less of his actual sword to each exchange.
Dallas adjusted.
He attacked once.
Twice.
Then stopped short of the third strike.
Fitzgerald's rose shield formed early.
Dallas moved around it instead.
John came through the opposite side.
His sword smashed into the shield.
The black petals compressed.
Fitzgerald slid backward.
John attacked again.
Another brutal downward slash.
Fitzgerald redirected it with his blade.
The force still bent his posture.
Dallas entered through the opening.
His sword cut toward Fitzgerald's ribs.
A thorn vine blocked it.
Dallas sliced through.
Fitzgerald jumped away before the follow-up could land.
John chased.
Fitzgerald threw a fan of black petals.
John moved through them.
Not blindly.
He cut the first two apart, shifted his shoulder away from the third, let another scrape across his coat, then changed his footwork before the rest could funnel him where Fitzgerald wanted.
Dallas noticed.
John wasn't simply charging.
Every movement had purpose.
Fitzgerald noticed too.
He sent vines toward John's ankles.
John jumped before they reached him.
Black petals were already waiting in the air.
He rotated in midair and cut through them.
A rose bloomed behind him.
Dallas severed it before it could fire.
John landed.
Dallas passed him.
Neither spoke.
They had already begun adjusting to each other.
Fitzgerald stepped back.
The street changed around him.
Roses sprouted from walls.
From pavement.
From broken windows.
Thorns crossed overhead and along the ground, forming a layered cage around the battlefield.
Dallas slowed.
John didn't.
Dallas: "Wait."
John stopped immediately.
That caught Dallas off guard more than the refusal to retreat had.
John looked ahead.
John: "Trap."
Dallas nodded.
Fitzgerald raised his sword.
Fitzgerald: "At least one of you understands."
John: "Both."
The roses fired.
Dallas moved first.
He chose the narrowest gap.
John followed exactly behind him.
Dallas cut only what needed to be cut, barely moving his blade more than a few inches at a time. John handled everything that required force, smashing through clusters of petals and severing thick vines before they could close the route.
Fitzgerald changed angles.
A vine came down from above.
Dallas ducked.
John cut it.
Petals came from the right.
John blocked.
Dallas moved left.
Another rose opened beside John's head.
Dallas stabbed through its center.
They advanced.
Fitzgerald's expression tightened.
Dallas could feel the difference.
Alone, every layer of Fitzgerald's ability had forced him to make another compromise.
Dodge the petals and lose ground.
Cut the vines and expose himself.
Attack Fitzgerald and leave the roses uncontested.
Now John was destroying the problems Dallas couldn't afford to address.
And Dallas was covering every opening John created.
They reached Fitzgerald.
John attacked first.
A heavy diagonal slash.
Fitzgerald raised his blade.
The clash cracked the pavement beneath them.
John immediately reversed direction.
Too fast for a sword that heavy.
Fitzgerald ducked.
Dallas came over John's shoulder.
Fitzgerald blocked him.
John kicked toward Fitzgerald's knee.
He stepped back.
Dallas followed.
Thorns erupted.
John grabbed Dallas by the back of his coat and yanked him away before they wrapped around his ankle.
Dallas landed beside him.
Dallas: "Thanks."
John: "Pay attention."
Dallas almost smiled.
Fitzgerald attacked.
A wave of petals filled the street.
Dallas and John separated.
Fitzgerald went after Dallas.
That made sense.
Dallas was already injured.
The vines chased him from both sides, forcing him toward the center while petals cut away every route behind him.
Fitzgerald appeared in front.
Dallas raised his sword.
Their blades met.
Fitzgerald pushed.
Dallas gave ground.
A thorn wrapped around his wrist.
Another reached his ankle.
Fitzgerald saw the opening.
His blade came for Dallas' neck.
John arrived.
His sword smashed into Fitzgerald's from the side.
The impact knocked the killing strike away.
John stepped between them.
Fitzgerald attacked him.
John parried.
The second strike slipped past his guard and cut across his shoulder.
John didn't react.
Not even a flinch.
He stepped closer instead.
Fitzgerald's eyes narrowed.
John drove his forehead into Fitzgerald's face.
The vampire staggered.
John slashed.
Fitzgerald barely jumped back.
Blood appeared across his chest.
Shallow.
But there.
John looked at it.
John: "Bleeds."
Fitzgerald wiped the blood with two fingers.
Fitzgerald: "Was that in question?"
John: "No."
Black vines exploded from beneath him.
John cut one.
Another wrapped around his leg.
Then his waist.
Dallas severed both.
Fitzgerald immediately turned toward Dallas.
A rose shield opened between them.
Dallas attacked anyway.
One slash.
The petals absorbed it.
Second.
The formation shifted.
Dallas watched.
John moved toward him.
Dallas: "Again."
John understood.
He brought his sword down on the center of the shield.
The impact forced the roses inward.
Dallas attacked the instant they shifted.
His blade slipped between two layers of petals.
Fitzgerald jerked backward.
The point grazed his cheek.
His eyes widened.
Dallas saw it.
The shield wasn't absolute.
It compensated.
Adjusted.
Reformed.
John raised his sword.
Dallas: "Same place."
John struck again.
The shield compressed.
Dallas thrust through the gap.
Fitzgerald twisted.
The sword cut across his shoulder.
This time deeper.
He retreated several meters.
Blood ran down his arm.
Silence settled for a brief second.
John started forward.
Dallas held one hand out.
John stopped.
Dallas: "He's adjusting."
John: "So are we."
Fitzgerald looked between them.
The calm expression on his face had begun to disappear.
Black roses spread farther around the battlefield.
Hundreds now.
Maybe more.
Dallas tightened his grip.
John simply stared.
Fitzgerald: "You two have become irritating."
John: "Good."
Fitzgerald lifted Black Rose.
Every flower opened.
The street darkened beneath a storm of black petals.
Dallas exhaled.
Dallas: "Still against retreating?"
John: "Yes."
Dallas nodded.
Dallas: "Thought so."
They raised their swords together.
Then charged.
The street disappeared beneath black petals.
Dallas and John moved before the first wave reached them, splitting just enough to force Fitzgerald to divide his aim. Dallas cut only what entered his path, every motion short and deliberate, while John met the barrage with heavier swings that shattered entire clusters at once. The difference in their styles was obvious now, but it worked. Dallas created openings. John widened them.
Fitzgerald stepped backward through the storm and raised Black Rose.
The petals changed direction.
John noticed immediately.
Instead of continuing forward, they curled around him from both sides.
John: "They track?"
Dallas: "Not exactly."
He cut through three petals and ducked beneath another.
Dallas: "He controls the pattern. Don't chase the openings he gives you."
John: "Got it."
Fitzgerald thrust his blade toward them.
The street answered.
Black thorn roots burst through the pavement beneath Dallas' feet.
Dallas jumped sideways.
More erupted where he landed.
John's eyes narrowed.
The ground ahead of him split open as thick thorned vines surged upward in rows, crossing over each other and forming jagged walls throughout the street.
Dallas: "Black Briar Dominion."
John slashed through the first wall.
The vines split.
More erupted behind it.
Dallas landed beside him.
Dallas: "Higher-tier technique. He seeds the ground beneath us and controls the routes."
John: "So destroy everything."
Dallas: "Efficiently."
John looked at him.
Dallas: "You'll tire before the street does."
John: "Then I'll tire later."
He surged forward.
Dallas exhaled once and followed.
Fitzgerald watched them enter the briar field.
Vines attacked from every angle.
John cut a thick cluster apart with a downward slash, stepped over the severed roots, and immediately rotated into another strike that cleared a path along the left side. Dallas moved just behind his shoulder, cutting the thinner vines that tried wrapping around John's legs and forcing Fitzgerald's attention between two very different threats.
A thorn line snapped toward Dallas' neck.
He leaned away.
John's blade severed it before it could retract.
Dallas: "Thanks."
John: "Move."
They did.
Dallas slipped through the opening first.
Fitzgerald was waiting.
Black Rose met Dallas' sword in a sharp clash.
Dallas immediately attacked again.
Fitzgerald parried.
John came from the right.
His blade crashed down.
The Black Rose Shield formed between them.
The impact compressed the layered flowers.
Dallas saw the shift.
He thrust for the gap.
Fitzgerald pulled the shield apart before the point could enter and sent the petals outward in a violent burst.
Dallas and John both retreated.
The briars closed behind them.
Fitzgerald: "You continue to struggle against the obvious."
Dallas looked around.
The battlefield had become narrow.
Too narrow.
Fitzgerald had used Briar Dominion to split the street into lanes, then forced them into the only open one.
John noticed it too.
John: "He's funneling us."
Dallas: "Exactly."
Fitzgerald raised Black Rose.
Three enormous flowers bloomed along the surrounding walls.
Then another on the roof above them.
Dallas' eyes hardened.
Dallas: "Funeral Bloom."
The flowers opened.
John: "What does this one do?"
Dallas: "Move."
The petals fired.
Not randomly.
The first rose sent a horizontal wave.
Dallas ducked.
The second fired immediately afterward from above, forcing him right.
The third flower was already aimed at that exact position.
Dallas cut through the barrage before it reached him.
John smashed through the opposite side.
Another wave came from behind.
Then another from the front.
The flowers rotated through patterns, each barrage creating a narrow escape route that the next flower immediately punished.
John drove forward instead.
His sword carved through a stream of petals.
Fitzgerald smiled faintly.
A wave came low.
John jumped.
Another came high.
He twisted in the air.
A third attacked his landing point.
Dallas cut through it.
John hit the street and immediately charged Fitzgerald.
The vampire raised his sword.
John attacked with a heavy diagonal slash.
Fitzgerald slipped outside it.
John reversed instantly.
The second strike came faster.
Fitzgerald blocked.
Dallas appeared beside him.
His sword went for the ribs.
A rose shield snapped into place.
Dallas' blade stopped inches from Fitzgerald's body.
John struck the shield from the other side.
The layered petals bent inward.
Dallas withdrew and attacked again before they could reset.
His sword slipped between the shifting flowers.
Fitzgerald twisted away.
The edge opened a line across his coat.
John stepped forward.
Fitzgerald kicked the ground.
A thorn erupted beneath John.
John turned his body.
The spike grazed his side.
He grabbed it with one hand.
Dallas: "Don't."
John yanked anyway.
The thorn ripped free from the ground.
Fitzgerald's expression changed slightly.
John threw the entire section toward him.
Fitzgerald cut it apart.
Dallas used the distraction.
He came in low.
Their blades collided.
Dallas stayed close.
Fitzgerald tried creating distance.
Dallas followed.
John entered from the opposite side.
For several seconds Fitzgerald could not disengage.
Dallas attacked with short, precise movements that kept Black Rose occupied. John attacked with enough force to punish every defensive commitment. Fitzgerald parried one, shielded another, twisted between them, then ducked beneath John's next slash and cut across Dallas' shoulder on the way out.
Dallas stepped back.
John went after him.
Fitzgerald sent a burst of petals directly into his path.
John cut through two.
A third sliced his cheek.
He ignored it.
The next barrage came wider.
John stopped.
He didn't retreat.
He stepped into the narrow center between the petals.
Fitzgerald's eyes narrowed.
John had read the pattern.
John closed the distance.
His blade came down.
Fitzgerald barely avoided it.
The street cracked beneath the impact.
John: "Found the rhythm."
Dallas joined him.
Dallas: "Good."
They pressed again.
Fitzgerald's composure was beginning to change.
Not much.
Enough.
He raised Black Rose.
The flowers from Funeral Bloom fired again.
Briar Dominion surged beneath them.
Petals and thorns attacked simultaneously now.
Dallas moved through the first sequence.
John followed.
Dallas cut high.
John cut low.
They exchanged positions without needing to speak, one handling the petals while the other cleared the vines.
Fitzgerald fired more roses into the battlefield.
Small ones.
Dark.
Easy to overlook among everything already surrounding them.
Dallas saw them land.
His expression sharpened.
Dallas: "Watch where those roses fall."
John glanced toward one embedded in a wall.
Another had landed near the curb.
A third sat behind them.
John: "Why?"
The rose behind him opened.
Thorns exploded from it.
John turned.
Too late.
One wrapped his wrist.
Another caught his ankle.
A third fired from the rose in the wall and wrapped around his waist.
They pulled in different directions.
John's body locked.
Dallas: "Thorn Crucifixion."
John strained against the restraints.
Dallas cut toward him.
Fitzgerald blocked the path.
Dallas: "He uses roses he already placed as anchors. Once enough are around you, he can attack from several directions at once."
John: "Could've said that sooner."
Dallas: "I just did."
Fitzgerald attacked.
Dallas blocked.
Behind him, John pulled against the thorns.
They dug deeper.
The more he forced them, the tighter they became.
John stopped.
His expression never changed.
He looked at the anchor points instead.
One rose on the wall.
One behind him.
One near his ankle.
John: "Three."
Dallas heard him.
John twisted his sword hand as much as the restraint allowed and cut through the thorn around his wrist.
Two.
He planted his restrained foot against the street.
Then deliberately let the waist vine pull him sideways.
The sudden movement shifted the angle.
John cut downward.
The second line snapped.
One.
He grabbed the final vine with his free hand and dragged himself toward its source instead of fighting away from it.
The rose tore partially from the ground.
John stabbed it.
The restraint vanished.
Dallas almost smiled.
John: "Annoying."
Dallas: "That's putting it mildly."
Fitzgerald slashed toward Dallas' head.
Dallas ducked.
John attacked over him.
Fitzgerald blocked.
The impact drove him backward.
Dallas rose beneath the clash and slashed across Fitzgerald's torso.
Blood sprayed.
Fitzgerald finally retreated.
A deeper wound.
John pushed after him.
Dallas caught his shoulder.
Dallas: "Wait."
John stopped.
More roses were scattered everywhere now.
Dozens.
Maybe more.
Some obvious.
Others hidden beneath rubble, embedded in broken walls, sitting beneath the remains of stalls.
John looked around.
John: "Crucifixion field."
Dallas: "Exactly."
Fitzgerald wiped blood from his chest.
His expression was colder now.
The three higher-tier techniques had transformed the entire battlefield.
Briar Dominion controlled the ground.
Funeral Bloom controlled the air.
Thorn Crucifixion punished any position Fitzgerald had already prepared.
John stared at the street.
John: "So he built this whole mess while we fought."
Dallas: "That's what makes him troublesome."
John: "Still alive."
Dallas: "Yes."
John: "Then not troublesome enough."
Fitzgerald's eyes narrowed.
He raised Black Rose again.
Every Funeral Bloom flower turned toward them.
The briars beneath the road moved.
Roses around the battlefield opened.
Dallas lowered his center of gravity.
John tightened both hands around his sword.
Then a new blade cut through the nearest cluster of thorns.
Fitzgerald looked toward the sound.
So did Dallas.
Four figures emerged through the smoke.
Jeremiah came first, carrying Erika's former sword. Blood still stained his clothes from the fight with Reina.
Erika walked beside him with Reaper's Feast resting in her hand.
Sylvie followed.
Esmarie came last, visibly exhausted and using a replacement weapon taken from a fallen vampire to steady herself.
Dallas' eyes widened slightly.
Dallas: "Odd Jobs."
Erika looked toward him.
Erika: "You look rough."
Dallas glanced down at himself.
Dallas: "You're one to talk."
Esmarie raised a tired hand.
Esmarie: "Hi, Dallas."
John looked at them.
His eyes stopped on Erika.
Then Sylvie.
Then Esmarie.
His expression barely moved, but one corner of his face tightened.
Three young women.
Bloodied.
Standing in the middle of this.
John: "Kids."
Jeremiah looked at him.
John: "They shouldn't be here."
Erika's eyebrow raised.
Esmarie: "Hey."
Jeremiah stepped forward.
Jeremiah: "You haven't seen them fight."
John looked at him.
Jeremiah nodded toward Erika first.
Jeremiah: "That one just took down a vampire who was giving all four of us hell."
Erika shifted Reaper's Feast onto her shoulder.
Jeremiah: "The other two fought through a swarm while exhausted and still came back to help finish it."
Sylvie gave a small nod.
Esmarie looked slightly pleased despite barely being able to stand.
Jeremiah: "They're fierce."
John stared at them for another second.
Then looked away.
John: "Fine."
Erika: "That's it?"
John: "What else?"
Erika blinked.
Dallas understood immediately.
Dallas: "Don't expect much conversation."
John: "Good advice."
Fitzgerald's face twisted.
The calm disgust he had worn throughout the fight finally became visible.
Six Hunters now stood before him.
Fitzgerald: "More pigs have come from the mud."
Black roses spread around his feet.
Fitzgerald: "You humans breed faster than you can be put down."
Erika's smile vanished.
Jeremiah stepped beside Dallas.
Sylvie positioned herself slightly behind Erika.
Esmarie moved into the safest central position despite her exhaustion, eyes scanning the roses scattered across the battlefield.
Dallas immediately spoke.
Dallas: "Ground is trapped. Briar Dominion controls movement. The large flowers fire patterned petal barrages. The smaller roses he's already placed can produce restraints from multiple directions."
Jeremiah absorbed it instantly.
Jeremiah: "Got it."
Erika looked at Black Rose.
Erika: "Anything else?"
Dallas: "That's what he's shown."
John stared at Fitzgerald.
John: "Enough talking."
The six Hunters shifted.
Dallas and John took the front.
Jeremiah moved just behind them, positioned to cover whichever side Fitzgerald tried to break through.
Erika angled toward the opposite flank, Reaper's Feast lowered and ready.
Sylvie stayed close enough to support both Erika and Esmarie.
Esmarie stood in the center, watching the flowers, the briars, and every possible anchor point Fitzgerald could use.
Fitzgerald raised Black Rose.
The entire battlefield responded.
John looked toward Dallas.
John: "We're not backing down, are we?!"
Dallas' eyes remained on Fitzgerald.
No hesitation.
Dallas: "No."
He raised his sword.
Dallas: "We slay this vampire here."
Six Hunters stepped forward.
And Fitzgerald's black garden opened around them.
***
Fitzgerald drove Black Rose into the ground.
The street disappeared.
Black roots ripped through pavement and stone, but they did not spread without purpose. They curved into clean borders, raised elevated flowerbeds, and pushed enormous hedges upward in deliberate rows. Thorned archways formed over newly carved paths while circular gardens opened between them, each filled with dense black roses arranged with unnatural precision.
Within seconds, several blocks of ruined town had become something else entirely.
A garden.
Beautiful.
Ordered.
And enormous.
Six black coffins rose from the soil.
One behind each Hunter.
John looked over his shoulder.
John: "Cute."
Dallas' eyes moved across the landscape.
Dallas: "Don't underestimate them."
Fitzgerald stood far ahead at the end of a broad garden avenue. Black roses bloomed on either side of him, their petals drifting lazily through the air.
Fitzgerald: "Garden of the Black Funeral."
John tightened his grip.
Fitzgerald: "I thought six would be appropriate."
Esmarie stared at the coffin behind her.
Esmarie: "That is incredibly creepy."
Jeremiah: "Stay together."
They moved before Fitzgerald did.
Dallas took the front with John beside him. Erika and Jeremiah followed closely behind, while Sylvie stayed near Esmarie at the center of the formation.
The first hedge split open.
Funeral Bloom waited behind it.
Dallas saw the flower expand.
Dallas: "Down!"
Everyone dropped.
A wall of razor petals tore over them and shredded the hedge opposite.
John was already standing before the barrage finished.
He charged straight through the opening.
Dallas followed.
Fitzgerald raised one hand.
The garden reacted.
Briars erupted across the path.
John cut through the first cluster with a heavy slash, but another wall rose immediately behind it.
Dallas moved around him.
One clean cut opened a narrow lane.
Erika slipped through first.
Jeremiah followed.
Sylvie pulled Esmarie behind them just before thorns closed over the path again.
Fitzgerald watched them approach.
Another rose opened along the right wall.
Dallas: "Anchor!"
Thorn Crucifixion erupted toward Erika.
Three vines came from different directions.
She cut one.
Jeremiah severed another.
The third wrapped around her ankle.
Sylvie stabbed through it before it could tighten.
Erika: "Thanks."
Sylvie: "Of course."
They kept moving.
The garden became more aggressive with every step.
Petals fired from above the hedges.
Thorns erupted from beneath the paths.
Black roses opened behind them and transformed safe ground into traps seconds after they passed.
Dallas kept talking.
Short warnings.
Only what mattered.
Dallas: "Large flowers mean petals."
John shattered one with a sideways slash.
Dallas: "Small roses are Crucifixion anchors."
Jeremiah cut through two embedded along a wall.
Dallas: "The ground itself can erupt anywhere inside the briar zones."
Esmarie: "That's basically everything."
Dallas: "Correct."
John: "Helpful."
Another barrage came.
Erika moved first.
She stepped onto a low hedge, ran along its top, and jumped over the petals instead of cutting through them. Jeremiah went beneath, sliding across the stone path before rising beside her.
Dallas and John met the center of the barrage head-on.
John smashed apart the densest section.
Dallas cut the fragments that slipped through.
Sylvie stayed behind them, eliminating anything that reached Esmarie.
They were advancing.
Slowly.
But advancing.
Fitzgerald noticed.
Black Rose lifted from the earth.
The garden remained.
John: "He can move the weapon."
Dallas: "Ultimate's already established."
Fitzgerald stepped forward.
The path beneath his feet opened.
Hedges folded away from him.
Dallas: "Here he comes."
Fitzgerald accelerated.
Erika met him.
Reaper's Feast collided with Black Rose.
The impact sent pale and black sparks across the garden.
Fitzgerald immediately attacked again.
Erika blocked.
Their blades slid apart.
Fitzgerald thrust.
Erika shifted sideways and answered with a slash toward his shoulder.
The Black Rose Shield appeared automatically.
Her blade struck layered petals.
The shield absorbed it.
John attacked the shield.
His sword crashed into the center.
The roses compressed.
Dallas appeared beside him.
His thrust entered the gap.
Fitzgerald tilted his body away.
The blade grazed his coat.
Jeremiah attacked next.
Fitzgerald retreated.
Sylvie came from the opposite side.
He blocked her thrust.
Esmarie stayed behind them, watching.
Six Hunters.
One vampire.
For the first time, Fitzgerald was being forced backward.
Then the garden changed.
Esmarie noticed first.
Esmarie: "Wait."
The paths beneath them shifted.
Hedges moved.
Not growing.
Sliding.
Jeremiah looked down.
The entire layout was rearranging.
Jeremiah: "Everybody close in!"
They tried.
Too late.
A wall of black roses erupted between Dallas and Erika.
Another divided John from Jeremiah.
Sylvie grabbed Esmarie's wrist.
The ground rose between them.
Their hands separated.
Esmarie: "Sylvie!"
The hedge shot upward.
Sightlines vanished.
Dallas slashed into the nearest wall.
John: "Don't!"
Dallas stopped.
A Funeral Bloom opened on the opposite side.
Petals tore through the space his blade would have created.
Dallas looked toward John.
John: "You told me not to trust openings."
Dallas: "Good memory."
The garden continued rearranging.
Their formation collapsed.
John disappeared behind a rising wall.
Jeremiah vanished between two thorn arches.
Erika jumped onto a hedge to keep visual contact.
The hedge beneath her opened like a flower.
She jumped away as thorns exploded from it.
When she landed, everyone was gone.
Silence settled.
Not true silence.
Petals rustled somewhere beyond the walls.
Roots moved beneath the soil.
Fitzgerald's footsteps echoed from no clear direction.
Erika looked around.
Erika: "Well."
A coffin sat at the end of her path.
Its lid slowly opened.
Erika: "That's reassuring."
Elsewhere, Esmarie stood alone.
That scared her more than she wanted to admit.
Her exhaustion immediately felt heavier without Sylvie beside her.
She tightened both hands around the borrowed weapon and looked around.
Tall hedges surrounded her on all sides.
Four paths.
Identical.
Black rose arches covered each entrance.
Esmarie: "Okay."
She breathed in.
Esmarie: "Think."
A rose opened somewhere behind her.
She turned.
Nothing fired.
Her eyes narrowed.
The garden was trying to make her panic.
She refused.
Several corridors away, Sylvie walked carefully along a narrow path.
She kept her blade forward and moved slowly enough to inspect every wall.
A small rose sat low inside the hedge.
She stopped.
Thorn Crucifixion.
Sylvie backed away.
The instant she did, another rose opened behind her.
She turned and cut it apart before the thorns emerged.
Sylvie looked toward the intersection ahead.
Sylvie: "Esmarie!"
No answer.
She moved faster.
Jeremiah had a different problem.
He was being hunted.
Fitzgerald appeared at the end of his corridor.
Jeremiah immediately raised Erika's old sword.
Jeremiah: "Of course."
Fitzgerald walked toward him.
Black petals floated around his shoulders.
Jeremiah glanced at the hedges beside him.
No safe exits.
Fitzgerald: "You were directing them earlier."
Jeremiah: "Was I?"
Fitzgerald: "Poorly."
Jeremiah smiled faintly.
Jeremiah: "Still breathing."
Fitzgerald attacked.
Jeremiah blocked.
The impact pushed him backward.
Another strike came.
Jeremiah parried.
Thorns erupted behind him.
He jumped sideways onto the hedge.
Black roses opened beneath his feet.
Jeremiah immediately rolled off the other side.
He landed in another corridor.
Fitzgerald followed through an opening that formed specifically for him.
Jeremiah: "Yeah. That's annoying."
John walked through his section of the garden like he was looking for someone.
He didn't bother calling out.
A Funeral Bloom opened ahead.
John raised his sword.
The first wave fired.
He cut through it.
The second came from the side.
He stepped through the narrow gap.
The third fired behind him.
He turned and shattered the petals with one swing.
John kept walking.
A coffin stood ahead.
He stopped.
John: "Mine?"
The lid opened.
John stared into it.
Black thorns writhed inside.
John: "Pass."
He continued past it.
Then vines erupted from the roses behind him.
One caught his wrist.
Another wrapped around his thigh.
A third snapped around his torso.
John looked down.
Thorn Crucifixion.
The coffin behind him opened wider.
The restraints pulled.
John started sliding backward.
He didn't resist immediately.
Instead, he watched where each vine connected.
Three roses.
One left.
One right.
One behind.
John cut the first.
The second tightened.
He rotated with the pull and brought his blade through it.
The third dragged him closer to the coffin.
John grabbed the vine with his free hand.
Pulled himself toward it.
Then stabbed the rose at its base.
The restraints disappeared.
He stood inches from the open coffin.
John looked inside again.
John: "Still no."
Farther away, Dallas stood at the center of a circular plaza.
Six paths extended around him.
A fountain filled with black petals sat in the middle.
Dallas looked at the paths.
He didn't move.
He studied the garden.
The layout was too deliberate.
Every hedge trimmed to the same height.
Every arch repeated at exact intervals.
Every flowerbed mirrored somewhere else.
Dallas crouched and touched the stone.
Roots shifted beneath it.
He looked toward the nearest corridor.
Dallas: "This isn't a maze."
A voice came through the hedges.
Esmarie: "Dallas?!"
His head turned.
Dallas: "Esmarie?"
Esmarie: "I can hear you!"
Dallas moved toward the voice.
The path shifted.
A hedge closed.
Dallas stopped.
Esmarie's voice now came from somewhere behind him.
Esmarie: "What the hell?"
Dallas understood.
Dallas: "Don't follow voices blindly. The garden's changing the routes."
Esmarie: "Yeah, I noticed!"
A Funeral Bloom fired from somewhere unseen.
Dallas ducked.
Petals sliced through the plaza.
Dallas cut three apart.
Another barrage came from the opposite side.
He moved behind the fountain.
Black petals filled the air.
Dallas stared at them.
Then at the pathways again.
Something clicked.
The garden wasn't shifting randomly.
It was maintaining symmetry.
When one hedge moved inward on the eastern side, another moved outward on the west.
When one arch closed, another opened.
Dallas: "Esmarie."
Esmarie: "Yeah?"
Dallas: "Look at the layout."
Silence.
Then—
Esmarie: "Oh."
Dallas: "You see it?"
Esmarie: "Everything has a pair."
Dallas: "Exactly."
Esmarie looked around her own corridor.
Two identical rose arches.
Mirrored hedges.
Matching flowerbeds.
One path had just closed.
She turned to the opposite side.
A new one opened.
Esmarie: "It's symmetrical."
Dallas: "Which means it's predictable."
Fitzgerald's voice drifted through the garden.
Fitzgerald: "You flatter yourselves."
Dallas slowly raised his sword.
Dallas: "Found something."
Elsewhere, Erika heard him.
So did Jeremiah.
Sylvie stopped.
John looked toward the voice.
Esmarie studied the garden more carefully.
Fear disappeared from her face.
Esmarie: "Everyone listen!"
Her voice carried over the hedges.
Esmarie: "If a path closes near you, check the opposite side! The layout mirrors itself!"
Sylvie looked to her right.
A hedge shifted shut.
She immediately turned left.
An opening formed.
Sylvie ran through.
Jeremiah ducked beneath Fitzgerald's blade.
A wall rose behind him.
He looked opposite.
Another hedge began lowering.
Jeremiah jumped through before it fully opened.
Fitzgerald stopped.
For the first time since separating them, irritation appeared in his eyes.
Erika saw two Funeral Blooms opening along one side.
She smiled.
Erika: "Then…"
She looked opposite.
Two more were concealed inside the matching hedge.
Erika moved before either fired.
Petals shredded empty space.
John heard movement somewhere ahead.
He walked toward it.
John: "Dallas."
No answer.
John cut around a corner.
Another path opened.
Dallas stood on the other side.
John: "Found you."
Dallas: "Apparently."
John joined him.
Across the maze, Sylvie finally rounded an arch and nearly collided with Esmarie.
Esmarie: "Sylvie!"
Sylvie immediately caught her before she stumbled.
Sylvie: "There you are."
Esmarie: "I totally had it handled."
Sylvie: "Naturally."
Jeremiah emerged into a long central path.
Erika dropped from the top of a hedge beside him.
Jeremiah looked at her.
Jeremiah: "You look happy."
Erika: "This is kind of fun."
Jeremiah: "Of course you think that."
The six Hunters were still separated into three groups.
But no longer lost.
The garden continued shifting around them.
The coffins remained open.
Black roses bloomed in every direction.
And somewhere inside the maze, Fitzgerald watched as his prey began learning the paths of their own funeral.
The maze did not stay still long enough for anyone to trust it.
Black hedges shifted several feet at a time with deep scraping sounds beneath the soil, closing corridors that had existed only seconds earlier and opening new paths somewhere else. Funeral Blooms watched from above the walls like enormous black eyes, their petals tightening whenever someone passed beneath them. The six coffins continued appearing through gaps in the foliage at unsettling intervals, each one waiting with its lid partially open as though Fitzgerald already knew exactly where his prey would eventually end up. Even the air felt heavier inside the garden now, filled with drifting petals and the constant scent of roses mixed with blood. Somewhere beyond all of it, Fitzgerald moved without making enough noise for any of them to know where.
Esmarie stood alone at another intersection.
Four paths stretched ahead of her, each nearly identical. Matching rose arches framed their entrances, low black bushes curled around polished stone borders, and smaller flowers grew in perfect rows along either side. She stared at them until her vision started blurring from exhaustion, then rubbed one eye with the back of her hand. Her legs wanted to stop moving completely, and every wound she had picked up since Reina's battlefield seemed to hurt more now that she had nobody immediately beside her. Still, after only a few seconds, she pointed at the second path from the left.
Esmarie: "That one."
Nobody answered.
She looked around.
Esmarie: "Right. Alone."
Then she started walking anyway.
There was no complicated reasoning behind the decision. Something about the other paths simply felt wrong, as if they were inviting her too directly or curving away at angles that made her uncomfortable. The second path looked no safer than the others, but Esmarie trusted the feeling and kept moving even when a nearby hedge shifted behind her and removed any chance of going back. She passed beneath two thorn arches, ignored a coffin visible through an opening on her right, and stopped when she heard steel clash somewhere ahead. The sound came again, followed by the tearing of vines and a familiar voice muttering something under her breath.
Esmarie's exhaustion disappeared for half a second.
Esmarie: "Sylvie!"
She ran.
The corridor turned sharply and opened into a small circular garden where Sylvie was surrounded by Thorn Crucifixion anchors. Two vines were already wrapped around her sword arm while a third pulled at her ankle, and a Funeral Bloom overhead was beginning to open. Sylvie had managed to keep herself upright by hooking her free hand around a thorned hedge, though blood ran down her palm where the spikes had bitten through. She looked over just as Esmarie stumbled into the clearing. Surprise crossed her face before immediately giving way to relief.
Sylvie: "Esmarie?"
Esmarie: "Found you!"
Sylvie: "How?"
Esmarie slowed.
Esmarie: "…Walking?"
The Funeral Bloom fired before Sylvie could respond.
Esmarie threw herself forward and cut one of the anchor roses at its base. Sylvie twisted with the sudden slack, pulled her sword arm free, and severed the second restraint while the barrage came down around them. Esmarie ducked behind one of the shaped bushes as petals shredded through the upper half, while Sylvie stepped into the remaining attack and cut a narrow path through it with rapid, precise strikes. The final vine snapped around Sylvie's waist, but Esmarie stabbed through its flower before it could drag her toward the nearby coffin. When the barrage ended, both of them stood there breathing heavily among ruined roses.
Sylvie: "You really did find me."
Esmarie: "I told you."
Sylvie: "You said you were walking."
Esmarie: "Exactly."
Sylvie stared at her.
Esmarie: "Don't ask questions you don't want stupid answers to."
A faint smile crossed Sylvie's face.
They left together.