BANG!!
The silver round streaked across the space, hitting Dracula's shoulder with a dull, brutal impact. For a heartbeat, nothing happened.
And then, Dracula didn't flinch.
Instead—
His body flickered, crackling with crimson sparks, the wound glowing red-hot.
The very air around him snapped like tearing fabric, the force of his presence distorting reality itself. The temperature in the streets seemed to drop, shadows stretching, as three magic circles exploded into existence around him—one hovering above his head, another rotating at his waist, and the last spinning beneath his feet.
Each circle rotated in a different direction, arcs of crimson and violet lightning crawling along their edges.
Bloody runes flared to life within each circle. The script pulsed dangerously, each glyph throbbing with a dark light, bathing Dracula in an unholy glow.
