Naro stared into the distorted body for a long, silent while. The cave was still, the faint dripping of water echoed through the dark. Time crawled, and finally, he drew a long, steady breath—refinement had to begin.
Two hearts lay before him. Two hearts that carried betrayal, pain, and despair. Their final beats were soaked in torment, and now they would fuel his path.
"With these hearts, the piercing blood can be pushed to rank 4," Naro thought inwardly, his face expressionless, eyes half-lidded, as though nothing had happened. His aura radiated a merciless calm.
But before refinement, he had to make a choice. He gathered every rank 3 blood path nyx he had taken—spoils from Raphael Duskborne—and sat cross-legged. Closing his eyes, he drew in his aura. The air grew tense, heavy, as though the cave itself resisted. Shadows rippled along the walls.
An hour passed in silence, disturbed only by the faint swoosh of moving energy. His aura twisted, thickened, sharpened. Finally, his eyes snapped open. Rank 3 had been achieved. The power surged through him, steadying his body. Now, refining the piercing blood would no longer be a fool's gamble, refining it at rank 2 would have a higher chance of failing.
The two hearts pulsed faintly, as if mocking the fate they'd been through.
The night deepened. Naro worked in silence, every motion precise, every breath measured. The cave was filled with the scent of rusty iron and the low hum of dark power. This refinement demanded the focus of a man who had walked through centuries of torment. Three hundred years of blood path knowledge flowed through him—steady hands, unwavering spirit. Bit by bit, the piercing blood nyx was reshaped, reforged, ascended.
…
Outside the cave, the academy instructors stirred uneasily. Something was wrong—terribly wrong. They scanned the area, sensing a gap in the rhythm of the groups they'd sent out. The air itself felt tainted, twisted. Without delay, they moved to investigate.
They had no idea that the "missing" group had already been reduced to wonders of horror by a trainee.
…
Inside, Naro's work came to its end. He opened his eyes, pale light reflecting in them. The rank 4 piercing blood was his. Still, he wasn't finished. From his side, he pulled a vial—Raphael's gift. Vampire blood of unmatched quality.
He drank.
Pain erupted instantly. His veins burned, skin paling by the second. His body trembled, vision swam. With a strangled gasp, fangs pierced through his teeth. His breaths came ragged—then steadied. In the span of heartbeats, Naro had become what many feared most: a vampire.
Without hesitation, he sliced his palm. Blood welled, dark and potent. He smeared it across the assembled blood nyx. One by one, they quivered, reshaping themselves, climbing a rank higher beneath the touch of vampire essence. Now every rank 3 blood path nyx stood reborn as rank 4. His strength surged to the threshold of the realm itself.
But just before he could step across, the faint snap of a twig cut the silence.
Naro's head tilted slowly.
Two instructors entered the cave. Their eyes fell upon the carnage—the severed head, the twisted female corpse, the young man in academy uniform with bloodstained lips and eyes gleaming in the dark.
A vampire.
Their gasps broke into a roar of fury. Without hesitation, they attacked.
Naro's grim expression didn't falter. His body blurred—Blood Dash.
Then, from behind him, the corpse's blood surged up, as if answering his command. The air hissed, SWOOSH!
Two dark red arrows shot forward, piercing cleanly through the skulls of both instructors.
Silence.
The two rank 4s collapsed before they even realized they were dead.
Naro's chest rose and fell with effort. Sweat ran down his brow. He clenched his fists, feeling the weight of what he'd just done. Using a rank 4 nyx while still only at rank 3 had strained him near his limits.
But his eyes glinted coldly.
"Hm." He snorted.
Naro wasn't finished. One last step remained. He now had enough rank 4 nyx to push himself into the rank 4 realm.
With gritted teeth, he began. The surge of energy coursed through him like molten fire, tearing through his body as if it wanted to rip him apart from the inside. Rising by two full realms in a single night should have been impossible—should have killed him outright. Yet Naro endured. Every breath was agony, every pulse of power a reminder of the price he was paying.
At last, his aura stabilized. He had ascended. Rank 4.
But his body was a wreck. Exhaustion gnawed at him, his skin pale and cold. He leaned against the caves wall, sweat dripping, his limbs trembling. His expression carried a bitter edge—his strength had grown beyond imagining, but the toll on his body was immense.
And then another problem revealed itself. The first rays of dawn broke outside.
The sun.
His fangs ached, his skin prickled. Naro cursed under his breath. As a vampire, stepping into daylight meant suicide. His plans would have to wait. With no choice, he retreated deeper into the cave, his cold gaze fixed on the faint glow at the entrance. He would endure until nightfall.
…
Outside, the world remained unaware of what had happened.
Lloyd, Darian, and Elizabeth pushed forward, determined to outlast the other trainees. Their group fought relentlessly, their teamwork tested at every turn. Lloyd's steady leadership guided them, Darian's sharp instincts kept them in the battle royale, and Elizabeth's healing turned the tide of fights. To them, this battle royale was the ultimate trial, a chance to prove their worth.
Little did they know, the entire game could be shattered in an instant. If Naro's massacre within the cave were discovered, the battle royale would end immediately—not as a contest, but as a catastrophe.
The day stretched on. Students clashed across the forest grounds, instructors kept watch, and the academy remained convinced everything was under control. The bloodshed in the cave, the two instructors slain, the vampire lurking in the shadows—none of it had reached their ears.
Then as time passed, and trainees fought.. the sun dipped low, bathing the horizon in a red light.
Nightfall.
Naro stirred. His body still screamed in protest, his exhaustion near unbearable, but his resolve never wavered. He had achieved what would take others decades in the span of a single night. He was rank 4 now—a vampire, a machine among mortals. And yet, satisfaction meant nothing. The hunt had to continue.
He summoned the blood mask nyx. Pain tore across his face as his skin warped and shifted. Strips of flesh peeled away, reshaping his features. Every movement of the transformation was torment layered atop exhaustion. But when it was done, the man in the cave was no longer Naro. His reflection was a stranger, a mask of survival.
He stepped into the cool air of night, squinting against the fading purple-red sky. The trees whispered with the evening wind as he moved swiftly through the forest. His destination was clear: the academy. Within its walls lay the travel nyx, his ticket to escape—or to ruin.
Time was running thin. He had already slaughtered two students. Two instructors. His crimes would not remain hidden forever.
Branches whipped past him as he ran, each breath tight in his chest. The kingdom's distant walls came into view, faint against the moonlit horizon. He was close.
Too close.
The air shifted. A flicker of power ahead. Naro slowed, his eyes narrowing.
Three shadows appeared into his path. Instructors. Their auras pressed down like iron, their gazes sharp as blades.
One stepped forward, voice grim.
"A vampire…"
Another's eyes burned with fury. "How could it come this close to the kingdom?"
Naro's jaw tightened, the faint glow of red rising in his eyes.
The night was no longer his to control.
The three instructors stood before him, their auras erupting like a storm. Naro's blood thrummed in his veins, his senses sharper than ever—but his body trembled beneath exhaustion. He clenched his fists, eyes narrowing, a shine through the abyss flickering in their depths.
The first instructor struck without hesitation. A whip of molten stone snapped toward Naro—Lava Vein Nyx. The second followed, summoning a torrent of razor-sharp petals that spun through the air like blades—Sakura Bloom Nyx. The third raised his hand, summoning chains of shadow that lashed forward to bind him—Nightbind Nyx.
Three rank 4 powers at once.
Naro blurred. Blood Dash. His form split into streaks of red as the whip cracked through stone, petals sliced the air, and chains coiled around nothing. He reappeared behind them, fingers splayed. The blood from the earth itself quivered.
"Pierce."
SWOOSH!
Dozens of blood spikes erupted from the ground, lancing upward toward the instructors. The forest lit with red arcs. One instructor roared, igniting his aura to shatter the spikes, while another raised a shield of steel-like vines to block. The third wasn't fast enough—a spike ripped through his thigh. He howled in pain but didn't fall.
"Monster!" one of them spat.
They pressed harder. The shadow chains reformed, snaking around Naro's limbs. Petals whirled, slicing through his flesh. A jagged cut tore across his chest, blood splattering. The lava whip struck next, burning deep into his side with a sickening sizzle.
Naro staggered, his body shuddering. Pain exploded through him—yet his wounds bubbled, knitting slowly back together under the curse of vampirism. His regeneration was working, but every stitch of healing came with a searing agony.
He gritted his teeth, his breath ragged.
Not enough… I need more.
With a saliva-filled snarl, he slashed his own palm and flung droplets of his blood into the air. They shimmered, expanded—Blood Mist Nyx. A thick crimson fog rolled out, clouding the battlefield.
"Stay sharp!" one instructor barked.
Too late.
From the mist, the blood surged violently, shaping into serpents with gaping maws. They lunged, tearing into the instructors with gnashing black fangs. Screams filled the forest as the serpents coiled and constricted, forcing the three to defend wildly, burning their aura reserves.
The one with the lava whip swung desperately, melting the serpents apart. Another unleashed a storm of petals, shredding the mist.
But Naro was already moving. His figure burst from the crimson haze, eyes glowing like embers in the dark. He thrust out his hand.
"Piercing Blood—Burst!"
A massive spear of condensed blood shrieked through the air, faster than lightning. It rammed clean through one instructor's chest, erupting out his back. The man's eyes went wide before he collapsed, lifeless.
The other two roared in fury. Lava surged like a tide, petals whirled into a tornado. The ground itself quaked as they unleashed their full strength.
Naro couldn't dodge it all. The lava caught his leg, searing through flesh and bone. Petals slashed across his arms and neck, leaving deep blood trails. His body convulsed, his vision swam.
Yet—his wounds knit. Slowly, agonizingly, his vampiric essence kept him alive. The pain was unbearable, every nerve screaming, but he stood.
"You…" Naro hissed through clenched teeth, blood dripping from his face. "Can't stop me."
With one final effort, he ripped open his own chest wound, letting the blood gush out unnaturally. The blood swirled, condensed, and exploded outward in a rain of spikes.
The forest erupted in a storm of death.
When the light dimmed, the two remaining instructors lay sprawled on the ground, their bodies torn and broken.
Naro stood in the center, swaying. His chest rose and fell in ragged gasps, his skin pale as ash. His leg was half-burnt, his arms carved with wounds, but even now the flesh bubbled and crawled as it healed. Slowly. Painfully.
He fell to one knee, clutching his side. Sweat streamed down his face.
Victory was his—but it had nearly cost him everything.
The night was silent again, broken only by the hiss of his breath and the slow drip of blood from his wounds.
"Damn…" he muttered, trembling. "I can't… stop now."
Even with how exhausted, broken he was.. his cold eyes burned with resolve.