Imperial gave a slow nod.
"Sure, why not?" he said calmly, lifting his hand toward the mask.
But as he did, he added with a smirk,
"You can drop the formal act, General.
We both know who I am."
He removed his mask.
At once, a wave of magic pressure burst from his body—power he had been concealing until now.
The sudden surge struck the surrounding captains like a hammer—some immediately collapsed unconscious.
Elara stepped forward, her tone urgent.
"Imperial, we need to run. That man... he's the strongest general alive. His power is equal to an Emperor's."
Reyn added, "She's right, Elara. Fighting him won't be easy."
But Imperial only smiled, his eyes calm.
"That's exactly why… he's the perfect test.
I've trained for six years for this.
Elara, Reyn—handle the captains.
Don't interfere in my fight."
General Rhogar raised an eyebrow.
"You consider me a test subject, boy? That's disrespectful. I'm old enough to be your grandfather."
Imperial replied,
"And you fought mine—Imperial Alden.
Let me see if I can match him."
Reyn used his String Magic, swiftly binding the stunned captains and pulling them a safe distance away.
The battlefield was now clear.
Imperial vs. Rhogar.
Imperial drew his sword.
Crackling lightning arced across the blade, dancing like a living storm.
General Rhogar slammed his cane to the ground—Sound Magic erupted in shockwaves, shaking the earth beneath their feet.
Birds fled the region in flocks.
Imperial stepped forward.
"You're my senior in age and wisdom.
So it's only proper you attack first."
Rhogar smirked.
"As you wish, young man."
He tapped his cane.
In a blink—teleportation.
He appeared behind Imperial.
"Fire Magic: Phoenix Descent!"
A fiery phoenix burst toward Imperial from point-blank range.
But in a flash of movement, Imperial backstepped and sliced through the flaming creature, dispersing the spell midair.
"Don't hold back, General," he said coldly.
Rhogar grinned, eyes gleaming.
"Very well then, boy.
I'll show you a real fight."
The air grew heavy with magic. Even at a distance, Elara and Reyn could feel the crushing pressure.
One of the captains, barely conscious, gasped,
"I've never felt magic like this…
It's like watching two monsters collide…"
Another added,
"And they haven't even started yet."
Elara snapped, "Focus on our fight!"
She raised her hand—Dark Blood Magic surged forward as she launched a barrage at the incoming enemies.
Ryze attacked first.
He dashed in a zigzag pattern—blades lit with flame trails.
"Fire Blade Art: Blazing Fang!"
A flash-step slash aimed at Elara's flank.
But Elara barely moved.
With a subtle gesture, the hovering blood droplet exploded into a shield, deflecting his slash with a dull clang. The magic crackled and hissed against his fire like acid against oil.
Ryze retreated with a growl, part of his sleeve smoldering.
Thorne stomped, raising both arms.
"Wind Field: Sink Zone!"
The weight in the area suddenly doubled. The ground cracked beneath their feet. Air grew heavier.
But Elara walked forward—unaffected.
The blood beneath her boots did not touch the ground, instead forming liquid platforms that hovered and shifted with every step.
Thorne's eyes widened.
"What the hell—?"
Her voice, smooth and deadly, echoed like a curse:
"Dark Blood Magic: Crimson Lattice."
Dozens of thin threads of coagulated blood shot out like strings—razor-sharp, flexible, and fast.
Ryze tried to cut through them.
Too late.
They looped around his arms, legs, and even his neck—pulling tight like bindings.
He yelled, fire bursting from his blades to burn through the cords, but new threads replaced them instantly, rising from pools beneath him.
Slash.
A shallow cut appeared on his cheek, then another—his own blood feeding into Elara's control.
She licked her lips.
"Thanks for the donation."
💢 Thorne's Counter
Thorne charged.
He brought both fists down like hammers.
"Wind Smash!"
The air between him and Elara imploded, aiming to crush her where she stood.
But Elara twirled once—her cape flaring—and a barrier of churning black-red blood surrounded her like a sphere.
The implosion hit the shield—causing a shockwave.
Dust erupted.
For a moment, it looked like she might've taken damage.
Then—BOOM!
A wave of pressure burst outward from her sphere. It wasn't magic—it was concentrated forcing enemies away like a blood quake.
Thorne stumbled back, armor dented.
His nose bled from magical rebound.
Elara walked out of the smoke, unscathed.
"Still standing? I'll fix that."
Ryze launched again, this time with blazing twin arcs spinning like a whirlwind.
"Fire Blade Art: Crimson Spiral!"
Elara extended her hand—
"Dark Blood Magic: Devour Vein."
The blood trails snaked out like tendrils, forming a spiraling web. The two spirals clashed, fire and blood dancing in midair like two beasts snarling.
Elara gritted her teeth—Ryze was fast, unpredictable, slippery. He slipped past the web and scored a shallow cut across her shoulder.
But when he landed—
His foot slid.
He looked down.
His boot was stuck in a patch of congealed blood.
Elara's voice was at his ear.
"Your own blood betrays you now."
She spun—her blade made of hardened blood formed mid-motion, slicing through his side.
Ryze screamed, dropped one blade, and leapt back, panting.
"ENOUGH!" Thorne bellowed, fists glowing with purple-black magic.
He raised his hands skyward.
"Wind Magic: gravitation pull:Titan Anchor!"
A massive sphere of gravitational force formed above him. The sky bent around it, light distorted. He hurled it at Elara like a collapsing star.
Elara frowned.
Even she couldn't tank that head-on.
She raised both arms.
"Dark Blood Magic: Hemoflux Reversal."
From her body, dozens of blood constructs rose—blades, walls, orbs—merging into a serpentine column of anti-force magic.
The gravitational mass met her blood construct—
And paused.
A moment of tension. Then—
Both forces shattered. Debris of magic rained like crimson ash and violet sparks.
Thorne was panting now. Sweat poured down his face.
Elara emerged from the wreckage with a new weapon in hand—a coiled whip of serrated blood.
She cracked the whip—it split the air with a sonic boom.
The tip struck Thorne's gauntlet—and shattered it.
Ryze, still recovering, tried to move—but now; his legs were completely bound in his own blood, hardened into chains.
Elara stepped into range.
She let her blood whip coil around her arm again and formed a dagger in her free hand.
"You don't understand," she said softly, as if almost pitying them.
"Blood magic isn't just about offense. It's about control. And your bodies…"
She smiled slightly.