Naro was dead tired. His body screamed with every step, his skin still sizzling from burns, cuts crawling with slow regeneration. But he kept moving forward.
The forest behind him was no longer silent.
The bodies of the three instructors had been discovered, and now the academy's alarm spread like wildfire. Dozens followed his blood-soaked trail, hunting him relentlessly. Their shouts rang through the night, filled with fury and urgency.
"Don't let him reach the kingdom!"
"Block every path!"
Naro didn't look back. He couldn't afford to. Fighting again would be suicide—his only hope was forward.
Suddenly—his senses tingled. He twisted sharply. THUNK! An arrow buried itself into the tree where his head had been. Another whistled past his ear.
"Catch him no matter the cost!" one pursuer bellowed.
Naro's eyes narrowed. His teeth clenched, his chest heaved, but his legs carried him faster, faster, until the trees broke open into a clearing.
And there it was.
The radiant kingdom. Its colossal white walls loomed before him, glowing faintly under the night sky. Towers bristled with archers and guards. The massive gates were shut tight, rows of armored soldiers staring directly at him. Their eyes widened as they realized what was charging toward them.
"A vampire!"
"Kill him before he gets close!"
Spears leveled, arrows nocked. The killing intent pouring from the walls was suffocating.
Naro didn't hesitate. Blood surged under his feet, and in a blur—Blood Dash!—he streaked forward, weaving through incoming arrows, scaling stone, slamming his boots against the wall. He ran upward, guards stabbing down at him, sparks flying as their weapons scraped stone.
He leapt.
The night air swallowed him as he vaulted the wall.
On the other side, the kingdom spread out like a dream. Glittering lights shimmered in the distance, golden lanterns glowing against the streets. Beauty. Civilization. The heart of power.
But Naro could barely see it. His vision swam, colors blurring. His body trembled, but his inhuman speed didn't falter.
The first guards rushed him.
"Form up!"
"Block the street—don't let him pass!"
Dozens of them poured forward, spears thrusting, blades flashing. Naro slipped between them, the world slowing in his perception. His movements were jagged but precise. One guard's head flew. Another's chest was ripped open as Naro's hand speared through flesh. He dashed past them, leaving screams and blood in his wake.
"God—What is.. what is this!"
"Don't get close, stay back—!"
Arrows rained from rooftops. Naro raised his hand, blood from the fallen soldiers rising into the air. It twisted, solidified, forming into a red-black katana in his hand. He swung.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
The blade sang, moving with impossible speed. Each stroke deflected arrows like sparks against steel. Dozens of shafts shattered midair.
Some guards froze, terror grew across their faces.
"This thing… what kind of monster is this!?"
Others shouted frantically:
"Reinforcements! Call the rank 5 commanders!"
"Don't let him reach the academy!"
But Naro kept moving, his laughter was like a lunatic, unhinged.
"You welcomed yourselves… to a slaughter party!" he roared, voice cracking into a manic giggle.
He lunged straight into the next group. Spears shattered against his katana, helmets split cleanly in two. Blood sprayed across cobblestones as Naro blurred from soldier to soldier, his movements a storm of blood. Limbs scattered, screams rose into the night. Civilians peered from windows, pale with horror, some shrieking, others dragging loved ones away.
"Close the streets!"
"Trap him!"
"He's heading for the academy!"
The guards' desperate voices filled the city, but they were pawns against a predator.
Naro dashed again, katana flashing in arcs of red light, cutting through those who dared bar his path. His body burned, his skin sizzling as his vampiric healing fought to mend torn muscle and seared flesh. Smoke coiled from his wounds, mixing with the scent of rust. His pale face was smeared with blood, eyes glowing faintly.
He looked less like a man and more like a living nightmare.
Arrows struck again from above—this time infused with elemental nyx. One exploded in fire, another crackled with lightning, a third froze the street in jagged ice.
Naro snarled, katana slicing through flames, his body twisting as electricity tore across his skin, his wounds bubbling as healing fought the burns. The ice cracked beneath his steps as he forced himself forward.
"Reinforce the barricade!"
"Hold until the Supreme Commander arrives!"
But nothing could hold.
Naro surged through, katana dancing, cleaving apart rank 3 guards like they were children. His blood path aura warped the air, suffocating weaker men before they could even swing. Heads rolled, bodies fell in heaps.
By the time he reached the academy walls, the streets behind him looked like a slaughterhouse.
And still, he pressed on.
The guards at the academy gates rallied, desperate. Their cries rang out:
"Protect the academy!"
"Don't let him inside!"
"Hold the line!"
But Naro was done playing.
His katana flared, forged anew from the blood around him. With a blur, he swept horizontally—three guards split in half in one stroke, their bodies collapsing as fountains of blood painted the walls. The rest fell in moments, screams cut short.
And then—
The instant his foot crossed the academy's boundary, the ground itself shuddered.
BOOOOM.
The barrier flared. Ancient sigils of light crawled across the academy walls, shimmering violently. Power surged, shaking the night sky.
Across the kingdom, every high-ranked aura turned sharply toward him.
The principal. Thalgor. Dozens of the strongest instructors.
At the gates, a figure materialized before him. An old woman, her back straight despite her age, her presence suffocating like a mountain pressing down. Her eyes burned as she gazed at him.
The academy principal.
She stared at the abomination before her: a long-haired vampire, grinning through blood, giggling like a maniac, his body stitched with wounds that sizzled and smoked as they healed. His red-black katana dripped with gore, his aura unstable but terrifying.
"You…" she whispered coldly. "What have you become?"
Naro's laughter echoed, wild, as the barrier sealed behind him.
Naro lunged at the old lady principal, his hand curling into a claw meant to rip her throat out, killing intent flooding the hall like a storm.
The principal's face didn't so much as twitch. Cold, wise, unreadable—her gaze alone was like steel.
Then, in a heartbeat, light erupted. A searing beam cut across his path, and half of Naro's arm evaporated into ash. The smell of burnt flesh and blood filled the air.
"Shit." he hissed, biting down the pain as momentum carried him forward.
He didn't stop. If he stopped, he was finished.
"If I fight this old bitch, I'll die" Naro thought, forcing his legs into another Blood Dash. He flickered forward, inside the academy, he kept going.. through shelves and broken tables, weaving between the instructors rushing to meet him. Each dash rattled his bones, drained his core—but he forced blood into motion, mending what he could. He tore at corpses as he passed, draining them dry to keep his energy alive.
The more blood he stole, the faster he became. But with every flash of speed came agony—his charred arm screaming, his body struggling to keep pace with the forbidden power of the blood path.
"Contain him!" the principal's voice cut like a whip. "Don't hold back—he's using the Blood Path! His strength exceeds most of you!"
"Surround him!" an instructor bellowed.
Spells and nyx shattered around him—flames, shards of glassy earth, arcs of shadow—but Naro twisted, slipped, endured. When he couldn't avoid a hit, he let it crash into him, then poured stolen life into the wound. Flesh knitted. Bones ground themselves back into place. Each healing was a victory and a punishment, as if his body was screaming that no man should be doing this.
And still he pressed on.
The shelves loomed. The sealed entrance. The place he'd been going toward since the moment this madness began.
As he recited the incantations under his breath, blood dripping with each word, the doors shuddered and groaned. Ancient runes unlocked.
The instructors saw it. Panic hit them harder than fear of him.
"He knows about the Light Travel Nyx!"
"Stop him! Stop him now!"
"CALL THALGOR!"
The shelves split, revealing the hidden passage, the mirror-barrier within shimmering like a pool of quicksilver. Pressure rolled from it—an ancient, suffocating heaviness that tested even Naro's will.
He didn't care. He stepped through.
The barrier crushed him like a vice, pressing on his ribs, squeezing blood from his veins, but he forced himself across. His vision swam, his body screamed, and then—
The chamber.
And waiting inside was a figure.
Thalgor.
He was already there, as if he had been waiting all along. His presence was overwhelming, suffocating. His aura pressed outward in waves, heavier than anything Naro had felt—like the sea itself crashing down, dragging him into the abyss.
Naro's lips curled into a bloody grin. "Just as I expected."
For the first time in years, Thalgor looked utterly serious. His eyes burned with focus, no hint of hesitation, no casual arrogance—only a predator ready to kill. His aura gripped the chamber, choking the very air.
The mirror behind them pulsed faintly, as if anticipating the clash.
Naro, blood-drenched and half-burned, stood with laughter cracking through his exhaustion. Thalgor, calm as the executioner, took a single step forward, and the ground trembled.
The air thickened. The silence broke only with Naro's ragged breathing and the low hum of Thalgor's aura.
Two storms about to collide.