The smoke began to clear…
And I was still alive.
But somewhere in the distance…
I saw something.
A part of myself.
POV: Flávia
In the air, I was facing three 3rd-Level beasts.
The first was Brakk — a massive minotaur wielding a colossal axe. His body was covered in bluish fur, three glowing red points shone on his chest, and he had two pairs of bestial wings that beat with ferocity.
The second was called Velkha — an abomination in the form of a butterfly made of living flesh. Her wings were made of exposed bone, and her pulsating red body seemed to breathe hatred.
Those two were on my level.
But the last one...
Was something else.
A creature that resembled a deformed werewolf, with six arms and six wings.
Feralis.
Though technically of a lower sub-level, Feralis had brutal mastery over fire and insurgent lightning — her power rivaled that of beasts one tier above.
She could most certainly fight on this battlefield.
We began to confront each other.
As a vampire, my Vitae and sheer strength still surpassed those beasts.
So, the purest domain of water collided with flames, thunder, blood, and earth.
Blades of water slashed through the air, crashing into walls of stone.
Blood arrows burst from every direction, mixed with orbs of lightning and miniature burning suns.
It was a good start.
But it didn't stop my body from beginning to wear down.
Three beasts.
Three elements.
Three distinct styles.
This fight would serve to understand their rhythms.
But they weren't reacting with thought.
They were retaliating purely with their own elemental chaos.
If that's what they want... then I'll fight like a hurricane.
I raised my hands forward.
Wind gathered in spirals, sharp and swift, spinning like daggers.
In a single sweeping motion, it soared upward,
Then collapsed in a spiraling descent — a violent cyclone.
The tornado struck the beasts with full force, trapping them at the center like prey in a storm.
With two fingers raised, I let the power of ice run through my arm.
Pillars of crystal launched forward — shooting into the whirlwind.
Crack.
Crack.
Crack.
The sound of shattering ice and violent collision echoed like the wails of ghosts.
RAAARRRGHH!
A brutal roar split the skies.
It was Feralis.
His six arms opened wide like blades and pointed at me.
Thunder crackled, exploding from his fingertips — bolts so powerful they bent the air.
Each strike was raw, ancient, and untamed.
They weren't just lightning; they were primordial punishment.
I pointed two fingers forward.
Water coiled around me in a spiraling shield — fluid, but strong.
When the thunderbolts collided, they were absorbed, spinning within the spiral like echoes.
And then — I redirected them.
The lightning reversed course, flashing back at the beasts.
It struck true.
But Brakk, the colossal Minotaur, stepped forward.
He raised his bloodstained axe — and summoned a protective barrier around the group.
The redirected lightning exploded against it.
Cracks spread across the shield like broken glass.
And from those fractures — red lightning was born.
New, corrupted bolts surged out, now dyed with blood and fury.
They came directly for me.
I spread my wings and shot upward.
But the blood lightning followed — spiraling like venomous snakes, shrieking behind me.
I crossed my fingers.
A cyclone burst from around me, spinning fast enough to distort the air.
The bolts hit the spinning vortex and shattered.
Then, I pointed downward again.
Ice pillars tore through the sky, aiming for the trio below.
But when I looked —
Only two were left.
Brakk was gone.
— Shit, — I cursed, instinctively twisting my body.
Above me.
An axe descended like a meteor.
It was Brakk — falling like divine judgment.
I raised my rapier.
The impact was deafening.
It tore through the air, shaking my arms to the bone.
The collision shattered my wind shield and dispersed the blood lightning, releasing flares of crimson and gold.
No time to breathe.
I lunged.
My rapier danced — each motion swift, precise.
Tiny wounds appeared across Brakk's massive body, one after another.
Blood sprayed from each puncture.
But even as he staggered backward, dragging that colossal axe,
He still raised it again —
Slow. Unstoppable.
Crack!
A dry sound behind me.
Balls of thunder hurtled through the air, dozens at once.
I turned.
Cut down three with quick strikes.
But I was being surrounded.
I tried to escape diagonally — flying away —
But then it came.
A scream.
No — it wasn't a voice.
It was something deeper.
Velkha, the blood-red butterfly, had repositioned.
Her wings spun like cursed blades of bone.
Her body glowed with the color of dying stars.
And she launched a swarm of blood lightning — furious, endless.
She spun toward me like a buzzsaw of death.
Her wings weren't wings.
They were spirals of agony.
Each rotation tore the air like it was paper soaked in Vitae.
I had only one chance.
I rushed forward with my rapier.
There — at the center of the spin — was the axis.
The pivot that sustained her monstrous technique.
I locked onto it.
And struck.
Thrust.
My blade pierced the rotation point.
Her body shuddered violently.
The momentum broke.
I won the exchange.
But no time for victory.
From the clouds above —
Lances of thunder ignited in flame came screaming down from the heavens.
Like arrows of the gods.
BOOM!
The explosion caught me mid-air.
I felt my bones rattle.
My lungs burned.
But my body didn't fall.
Why?
Because I was now clad in a Level 3 Military Armor, forged by master artificers of the Dominion.
Its black plates, veined with silver, shimmered — absorbing the punishment.
It held.
Almost all the damage was contained.
These armors are rare.
But essential.
Each barony keeps a limited stock for high-priority warriors and battlefronts.
They're expensive — but domains like ours can afford them after years of beast hunting and essence extraction.
Hovering midair, my rapier still in hand, I realigned my posture.
The blade was alive with my Vitae.
My eyes locked onto the two remaining beasts.
Down below —
Their claws still scraped the earth.
Their eyes were still red.
And this war...
Wasn't over.