Naro's blood mask nyx strained to hold together, his skin cracked like glass. With a hiss, it began to melt away—first the mask collapsing to a skull, then muscle twitching and tearing back into place, nerves sparking like threads of fire, and finally flesh knitting together with unnatural force. What stood revealed was no longer a faceless monster. It was the true culprit.
"Naro…" Thalgor's voice trembled, the betrayal cutting deeper than the wound across his chest. For the first time, hesitation cracked the commander's iron will.
Naro's lips curled into a mocking smile. He lunged, feinting a vicious strike. Thalgor, shaken but quick to recover, brought his weapon up in a flash of light—only to realize too late it had been a false attack. Naro blurred away in a streak, blood dash propelling him toward the center of the room.
Floating in the air, radiant and untouchable, was the Light Travel Nyx.
Naro's hand stretched toward it. Victory—
A searing flash split the air.
Thalgor had unleashed his Light Path Nyx, a beam like the judgment of the sun itself. It carved clean through Naro's arm, the smell of scorched flesh filling the chamber. This time, the wound didn't close. Naro's regeneration faltered, sparks of light sizzling across his flesh.
The truth struck him instantly. Conqueror's Sun Nyx.
Thalgor's attacks carried the sunlight itself. The weakness of all vampires.
Pain thundered through him, but his momentum didn't falter. Naro pushed forward, blood spraying, fingers twitching toward the Nyx.
Thalgor roared, fury burning away his hesitation. With a flick of his wrist, his fork spun through the air—and in the same heartbeat, he vanished. He reappeared beside Naro in a blinding flare, the same merciless technique he had once used to test the boy as his academy exam.
Steel and light pierced through flesh.
Thalgor's blade impaled Naro just as his fingertips brushed the glowing Nyx. Blood sprayed, sizzling as it touched the radiant energy.
But Naro only smiled. Not the smile of a boy, but the grin of a madman, a creature born of evil and darkness.
Thalgor froze. His stomach twisted. Not even when he fought Dracula—the King of Vampires—had he felt such a suffocating dread. Dracula was monstrous, yes, but this… this was worse. Far worse.
What kind of demonic nature lies in this child? Is he even a child anymore?
In that single instant, Thalgor saw it all—the ageless wisdom behind Naro's eyes, the weight of centuries, the unshakable patience of a mind sharpened by 300 years of torment.
Then the Light Travel Nyx responded.
A blinding eruption of energy tore through the academy. Walls evaporated, stone melted to dust, half the building annihilated in a single, merciless explosion.
…
Outside, the old lady principal staggered back, her eyes wide, her face ashen. He… he passed Thalgor? she thought, horrified. But she did not know the truth.
Naro and Thalgor were no longer inside.
…
The scene shifted.
In the blink of an eye, the two combatants were hurled through space, spat out into the cold dawn. Their bodies crashed down with a sickening splash.
Blood.
The pool of blood that Naro had ordered the purple-eyed fairy to prepare.
Thalgor's eyes widened. He understood too late.
"You fell for it," Naro's hoarse voice torn, ragged, but filled with savage triumph.
Then, with the last of his strength, Naro threw back his head and screamed, a roar that shook the air:
"BLOOD… PIERCE!"
The earth trembled.
The pool erupted. Thousands of blood blades rose like a forest of spears, rose from the ground.
Both of them were stabbed—skin pierced, bones shattered, bodies turned into living pincushions. The sound was gruesome, wet, and merciless.
Thalgor's eyes dimmed. He looked at Naro, lips trembling, words unspoken. He wanted to ask—how? How could this boy outwit him, a man who once stood against Dracula himself?
But the light in his eyes died before the words could leave his tongue.
Naro's own body became a canvas of agony—blades bursting through his chest, stomach, shoulders, thighs. Every nerve screamed fire as blood spikes drilled through his organs, shredding them into ribbons. His blood mixed with the pool's endless torrent until he was drowning in his own power. He collapsed, his body broken and drained, darkness pressing against his vision.
Naro has won through Schemes… plotting… wisdom bought with centuries. That's why he won.
The purple-eyed fairy appeared, rushing to his side, her small form trembling as she dragged his mangled body inside the castle. Behind her, Thalgor's corpse lay motionless, another trophy claimed by Naro's endless cunning.
…
Naro jolted awake, his head heavy, the world around him spinning in dull fragments of light and shadow. A hollow ache ate at his chest—not the kind that came from torn flesh, but deeper, lingering within his very essence. His body, though mostly healed, was incomplete. Where his arm had once been, only smooth scarred skin and faint threads remained.
But worse than the missing limb was the damage that could not be seen. His soul. It burned with invisible wounds, cracked and trembling. The Light Travel Nyx's power still echoed within him, a curse that reached beyond flesh and bone. It targeted the soul. Had Thalgor not been dragged into the teleportation with him, he would have been obliterated in body and spirit both.
Blinking, his gaze drifted to the dim corner of the chamber. The purple-eyed fairy was there, curled up, her wings faintly quivering as though they had wept along with her. Her face was pressed against her knees, her tiny frame trembling in restless sleep. Even from where he lay, Naro noticed her eyelids—red, swollen, marked by days of tears.
She stirred suddenly, sensing his movement. Her eyes opened, wide and glassy. For a heartbeat she stared in disbelief. Then her small body shot upright.
"Master! You're awake!" Her voice cracked as she stumbled toward him, tears instantly welling in her eyes. She clung to him, trembling. "Oh—I'm so glad!"
Her arms wrapped tightly around his chest, fragile but desperate. The feeling of her grief broke as she sobbed into him, voice muffled, words tumbling out like crazy.
Naro sat up slowly, his gaze steady, his expression calm despite the hollow pain in his chest. "How long," he asked, his voice quiet but firm, "have I been unconscious?"
"A… a whole week, Master…" she sniffled, dragging her sleeve across her face, smearing the tears and snot. Her purple eyes shone wetly as she looked up at him.
"Hm. I see." Naro's reply was flat, measured, his tone betraying nothing.
With little more than that, he swung his legs off the bed, the fairy scrambling to steady him though she could hardly support his weight. His steps were heavy, but perseverance carried him forward. He crossed the chamber to the still body that lay stretched across the floor—Thalgor, the great commander who had once gone toe-to-toe with Dracula himself, now nothing but a corpse.
Naro's abyssal eyes narrowed. Here lay the spoils of his greater scheme.
He crouched, his lone hand moving with methodical precision, stripping away the fragments of armor, unfastening the relics of power the fallen warrior carried. One by one, he uncovered treasures.
The radiant core of the Light Travel Nyx, still humming faintly as though resentful of its new master.
The burning spark of the Conqueror's Sun Nyx, a prize so rare that even Dracula coveted it all his life.
Several Rank 5 Light Path Nyx, potent, gleaming with condensed brilliance.
And finally—the Blood Path Fork, the weapon stolen from Dracula, now returned by fate into the hands of one who would use it far more cruelly.
Naro's lips curved faintly, a humorless smile. "This will be useful," he thought inwardly.
Yet even as the power radiated around him, he knew his limits. The Rank 5 Nyx glittered with promise, but they were useless for his path. For a Blood Path cultivator, absorbing Light Path Nyx was like pouring water into stone. It would not move him an inch closer to breaking through. Other than that, his soul, already scarred from the Light Travel Nyx, was far from prepared to ascend.
Rank 5 required more than strength. It required the right type of path. And without enough Rank 5 Blood Path Nyx, his progression had reached a halt.
But Naro did not despair. No—it was the exact opposite. He had already leapt to Rank 4 in a single night, his strength multiplying beyond recognition. He had seized one immortal Nyx—the Light Travel. And also got his hands on the Conqueror's Sun nyx. The first gave him unparalleled mobility. The second granted what no vampire before him could claim: the ability to walk freely under the burning gaze of the sun.
He sat back, his breathing steady, browsing through his prizes. This was victory. A brutal one, costly, but his all the same.
And yet the shadow of consequence loomed.
The Radiant Kingdom would hunt him for the devastation he caused. The vampires would despise him for holding the Conqueror's Sun—an artifact their kind had dreamed of for centuries. Worse still, Raphael Duskborne himself would mark him as a traitor. Naro had broken their promise. He was never meant to embrace vampirism, never meant to abandon his disguise as a human spy. He had thrown away the agreement for his own advancement.
Now, enemies encircled him on every side. Both kingdoms of light and clans of darkness would thirst for his blood.
But Naro only closed his eyes, leaning back against the wall, his mind steady even as his soul throbbed with pain. For every enemy made, there was a scheme to counter them. For every trap laid against him, there was a deeper one he could weave in return.
His body was broken, his soul wounded, his arm gone. But his will—his will was untouchable.
And in the quiet chamber, with the purple-eyed fairy silently watching him through tear-streaked eyes, Naro allowed himself to rest for now.
But… The game had only just begun.