The forest swallowed the maid whole.
No sound marked her passage. No disturbed leaf, no bent branch, no ripple in the rain. One moment the trees stood empty—
—the next, **she was there**, gliding between trunks like a thought given form.
Her movement did not flutter.
Her boots did not sink.
The world simply **made room** for her.
She moved fast—but never hurried. Purpose guided every step, every turn, every flicker of awareness as her senses spread outward in layered precision.
Combat behind her.
Chaos ahead.
Children to retrieve.
Her expression never changed.
Not fear.
Not urgency.
Only resolve.
A distant **boom** rolled through the forest—mana colliding far away, heavy enough to vibrate through roots and bone. The maid did not look back.
*Lady Elliana has engaged,* she noted calmly.
*Young Master.*
Her priorities reordered instantly.
Lyriana.
Aldric.
Elenya.
Lucifer.
She slipped between two ancient oaks and emerged near a ruined path—stone half-swallowed by moss, wards old enough to be forgotten by most.
She raised one hand.
The rain parted around her fingers.
A soft pulse of mana spread outward—silent, searching, respectful of concealment spells older than kingdoms.
There.
A flicker.
She stepped once—
—and vanished.
---
—**Scene shift complete. Battle resumes.**—
---
The blood screamed forward.
Hundreds of crimson spears **launched at once**, tearing through the air with shrieks like tortured metal. The courtyard detonated into motion—stone shattered, shockwaves rippled, and the night itself seemed to recoil.
Lucan moved first.
Holy fire **exploded outward** from his body as he stepped forward—not retreating, but *advancing*. The incoming spears struck the inferno and **evaporated on contact**, bursting into steam and red mist that hissed violently against his aura.
His voice rang out—clear, burning.
> "You mistake quantity for control."
He swung his arm.
A crescent of white-gold flame tore across the courtyard, **incinerating an entire wave of spears**, carving a glowing trench through stone and corpses alike.
But Aldric laughed.
The blood didn't stop.
It **adapted**.
Liquid tendrils snapped forward, coiling around Lucan's flames—wrapping, smothering—boiling violently as they tried to choke the holy fire. Spears reformed midair, reshaping, thickening, hardening into jagged crimson drills meant to pierce divine defenses.
Carvon lunged.
The ground beneath him **collapsed inward**, earth and stone ripping free as he slammed both fists down. A wall of fractured stone surged upward, intercepting the storm of blood spears—each impact detonating into showers of crimson and debris.
"NOW!"
Elliren was already moving.
Her hands traced sigils faster than thought, eyes glowing as **arcane threads snapped into place**. The air crystallized—*layers* of spatial distortion folding over one another. Blood spears struck—
—and **missed**, sliding sideways into warped angles, impaling empty space, stone, even Aldric's own constructs as geometry betrayed them.
Aldric clicked his tongue.
> "Annoying."
He spread his wings.
The blood **answered instantly**.
Every tendril snapped back, merging, compressing—then **detonated outward** in a spiraling storm centered on Aldric himself. The courtyard was swallowed in a cyclone of razored crimson, pressure crushing inward as gravity warped toward him.
Lucan planted his feet.
Holy fire **collapsed inward**, condensing around his body until it burned white-hot—blinding. He thrust both hands forward.
> "PURGE."
A column of divine flame **erupted straight through the bloodstorm**, ripping a tunnel of annihilation directly toward Aldric.
For the first time—
Aldric *moved defensively*.
He twisted aside, the flame tearing past him and vaporizing a wing of blood constructs behind him. His coat charred. One horn cracked, sizzling.
His grin widened.
> "There it is."
He snapped his fingers.
Blood beneath Lucan's feet **rose**.
Not spears.
**Hands.**
Dozens of them—clutching, dragging, crushing—formed from pooled blood, grabbing at Lucan's legs, arms, torso, trying to pin him in place.
Lucan roared as holy fire surged—but the blood didn't burn away fast enough.
Carvon charged.
He *hit* Aldric like a siege engine.
Stone and blood **exploded** as Carvon's shoulder slammed into Aldric's side, sending both of them skidding across the courtyard in a violent spray of crimson and debris.
Elliren didn't waste the opening.
She slammed her staff down.
Reality **shattered**.
A lattice of arcane seals snapped shut around Aldric mid-motion—binding air, locking vectors, freezing momentum itself.
For half a heartbeat—
Aldric was trapped.
Lucan tore free of the blood hands and raised his arm, flame screaming.
> "END—"
Aldric's eye flicked toward them.
The seals **cracked**.
Blood erupted outward from his body in a violent pulse, shredding the arcane lattice and blasting Carvon away like a ragdoll. Aldric straightened midair, blood spiraling back into orbit around him.
He wiped a smear of holy ash from his cheek.
And laughed.
Low.
Thrilled.
> "Yes… yes, this is much better."
The courtyard was unrecognizable now—cratered, drowned in blood, stone glowing from heat and mana scars. All four of them stood poised amid the ruin, power flaring, killing intent thick enough to suffocate.
Aldric spread his arms.
The blood responded.
Lucan's fire roared higher.
Carvon dug in, stone groaning beneath him.
Elliren's sigils multiplied, eyes sharp with calculation.
No more posturing.
No more speeches.
The next exchange would decide everything.
Lucan's fire **kept climbing**.
Not flaring wildly—*compressing*. Intensifying. Turning from blazing gold to a near-white inferno that **evaporated the rain before it could fall**. Droplets vanished midair with sharp hisses, steam rolling outward in expanding rings. The courtyard dried beneath his feet, stone glowing faintly red where he stood.
Heat distorted the world around him.
Aldric felt it immediately.
Blood constructs that drifted too close **thinned**, edges boiling away, mana bleeding off faster than he could reclaim it. Tendrils hissed and recoiled, reforming slower each time.
He scowled, clicking his tongue again—annoyance bleeding into his voice.
> "Tch. You burning bastard…"
Another wave of blood spears formed—thicker, denser—but as they flew, Lucan merely stepped forward.
The spears **evaporated**.
Not shattered.
Not deflected.
Gone.
Aldric grimaced as the mana feedback snapped back into him like a lash.
> "You're burning through my reserves faster than I like," he muttered, irritation sharpening.
> "If this keeps up—"
Lucan didn't let him finish.
He *moved*.
The ground cracked as Lucan crossed the courtyard in a burst of condensed fire, closing the distance with terrifying speed. His fist drove forward, wrapped in divine flame so intense it screamed.
Aldric barely twisted aside.
The punch missed his chest by inches—
—and **vaporized** the blood-wing behind him, the explosion of heat carving a trench through the courtyard wall and sending molten stone spraying outward.
Aldric skidded back, boots carving grooves through stone as he caught himself midair. Smoke curled from his coat. Cracks spidered along one horn.
His grin faltered—just slightly.
Carvon was already there.
He rose from below, stone erupting upward as his blade slammed toward Aldric's ribs. Aldric blocked with condensed blood, but the impact still sent a shockwave rippling outward, shattering broken pillars and hurling debris like shrapnel.
Elliren moved in perfect synchronization.
"His regeneration is slowing," Elliren said sharply, eyes glowing.
"Lucan—keep pressure. Carvon—don't let him disengage."
Aldric snarled as the seals bit deeper this time. Blood tried to surge—but Lucan's heat **devoured it**, burning mana faster than Aldric could replace it.
> "This is getting irritating," Aldric growled.
> "You three bastards I supposed I might've made a mistake about you."
Lucan raised both hands.
The fire obeyed.
It **collapsed inward**, condensing until it roared like a star about to go critical.
His voice echoed through the ruined courtyard, layered with divine authority.
> "You need mana to feed your blood magic," Lucan said coldly.
> "Then I'll make sure I burn every single speck of it—
> **along with you.**"
The temperature spiked violently.
Stone cracked.
Blood boiled.
Air screamed.
For the first time since the fight began—
Aldric's expression hardened.
Not amused.
Not playful.
Concern flickered behind his eyes as he spread his wings wider, blood surging defensively around him.
> "…Damn it," he hissed.
> "If this continues—"
The fire surged higher.
And Aldric realized, with sudden clarity—
**He was running out of time.**