Vlad turned his eyes on me.
Cold. Clinical. No words, no theatrics. Just the motion of death about to happen.
I didn't flinch, but my grip on my sword tightened. My domain was flickering—barely stable in the wake of Blood Hunt. The corrupted essence in the air made my skin crawl. It was heavy, bitter, almost sickening. Like trying to breathe in a burning forest.
And then—
Clang.
Steel intercepted steel.
Kieran.
He stood between me and Vlad, his body low, one hand raised in defense. The other on the hilt of his sword. Skofnung.
The room shifted.
Skofnung's aura flared, a soft but undeniable glow pulsing from the blade. The Covenant froze. Even Vlad's smile twitched.
"I wasn't going to draw this," Kieran muttered, more to himself than anyone. "But after what you did to Lena…"
He looked back at me briefly. "Havoc, stay back."
The glow intensified.
It wasn't blinding—it was felt, not seen. A cold, ancient pressure that filled the air. The runes on the blade shimmered faintly, the sound of its metal like a heartbeat.
Kieran raised the blade. His tone wasn't loud, but it cut through the noise like a blade through smoke.
"Skofnung has one rule. Once drawn fully… It must taste blood.l"
He faced Vlad, the blade humming in his grip.
"And this time? I'm finishing the job. A Level 3 is nothing when a coward's using it."
He charged.
The clash was immediate. Violent. Kieran moved like a storm with a purpose—Skofnung slicing arcs of glowing energy through the air. Every blow screamed intent, and each step forward pushed Vlad further back.
Vlad's smile didn't fade—but the arrogance behind it did. His feet skidded across the floor. His blades sparked wildly as he blocked.
For the first time, he was defending.
Kieran didn't stop. Blow after blow. Strike after strike. Skofnung pulsed with every impact.
"You're not worthy of this power!" Kieran roared, launching a knee that sent Vlad flying across the bloodstained hall.
But as the dust cleared, a voice—cold and emotionless—cut in from the side.
"That's enough."
The Strategist.
He stepped forward like a ghost from the edge of the battlefield. Not imposing, but controlled. Every movement efficient. Tactical. Calculated.
He raised a hand, and his domain quietly enveloped the air. No flash. No explosion. Just control.
Kieran gritted his teeth, eyes shifting.
"I've read your file," the Strategist said, eyes on Kieran. "Your synergy with Weiss is impressive. But even Obsidian discipline breaks under pressure."
Then he moved.
Kieran blocked the first hit, but barely. A second strike—too fast. Then a third. The Strategist's blows weren't stronger than Vlad's. But they were smarter. Clean. Perfect angles. Designed to interrupt, not overpower.
Ingrid and Nel rushed in from opposite sides.
Ingrid hit like a sledgehammer—essence pouring into her fists with each blow. Nel, glowing bright, cast her domain outward, flooding the trio with boosted senses and fortified bodies.
It wasn't enough.
Kieran was still pushed back. Every move now was to keep up, not press forward.
"We've crossed into checkmate," the Strategist said calmly. "You just haven't realized it yet."
But they weren't alone.
The rest of Team One had been silent for the last minute—no cries, no struggles.
That's because they were done.
In the chaos of the clash, the others had fallen—not our team. The remaining members of the Crimson Covenant now lay across the battlefield—cut down swiftly, precisely.
Zach, bruised and bloody, stood beside a fallen body. Amir limped slightly, holding a drained blade in one hand and a now-empty belt at his side. Ron's hands were shaking, the third sword crackling faintly at his back.
The team had regrouped.
All eyes turned toward the center.
Kieran, Ingrid, Nel—still surrounded. Still standing.
The Strategist stood with Vlad. The four locked in a brutal, full-force clash of raw power and essence, shaking the very floor beneath us.
Then—
Boom.
A burst of pressure slammed through the room. Smoke and light clouded everything. For a second—just one heartbeat—it looked like we were done.
Silence.
Ash floated through the air.
Everyone stared.
No one moved.
And then—from the heart of the smoke—came a low, amused laugh.
"Wait…"
Kieran's silhouette emerged, dragging Skofnung across the floor, glowing stronger now, voice steady.
"…it was always that easy."