Ian stood stunned by the Dullahan's ability to speak, when the headless knight hurled him and his sword into a corner and sneered,
"I don't know what kind of magic you used to keep me below even ten percent of my strength, but know this — even with this pathetic power you're nothing but children waiting to be slaughtered. After I clear you from my path, I'll find the one who brought this curse upon me and teach them what it means to cross me… especially one called Kavanaugh the Great."
Shock — and now a thread of fear — crawled up Ian's spine. This was the first time he'd faced a being so powerful and so utterly malevolent. Just as hopelessness threatened to swallow him, the sound of combat reached his ears. Looking up, he saw Ralph and Asha still fighting — still refusing to yield. Ashamed that he'd even considered surrender, Ian gripped his sword and charged the Dullahan again.
Every blow he struck was brushed aside with a single flick of the Dullahan's gauntleted hand. Even when Ian activated the ancestral power in his blood, victory felt impossible.
As Ian searched frantically for a way to win, his mind flashed back to something Asha had said after they defeated the volcanic wolf.
"Ian, a question — the power you used against the Volcanic Wolf… it was an ancestral blood power, right?"
Ian had answered, "Yes. It's the power of my mother's line, now fallen. I entered the Survival Tournament to rebuild my clan."
Asha had paused, then asked gently, "If you don't mind me asking, what was your clan's name?"
"It was called the Guardians," Ian replied. "Have you ever heard of them?"
Asha's eyes widened. "I never thought… you're descended from the Guardians? Do you know how great that clan was?"
Ralph, ever blunt, had joked, "If they were so great, how did they end up destroyed?"
Ian and Ralph bickered, and Asha explained: the Guardians were the strongest clan after the royal line — not only in the Iron Empire, but across the world — until a catastrophe wiped them out overnight. No one expected a remnant to survive. Ian's blood ability, she said, focused on sealing and subduing demons and corrupted creatures, and the clan's blood grew stronger each time they subdued such entities.
Back in the present, Ian thought: if I can properly use my ancestral blood power, maybe I can beat the Dullahan. But he had no idea how to do that — Asha herself didn't fully know, since only a few bloodline clans in the Empire still possessed such powers. While Ian wrestled with those thoughts, the Dullahan said coldly, "I'm tired of playing with you." Then a brutal kick slammed into Ian's side and sent him flying. The blow hit him hard — he hadn't been prepared and took severe damage.
As Ian struggled through the pain, something streaked past him and attacked the Dullahan — it was Ralph. Ralph had finished his duel with the death knight and called out, breathless, "That knight was respectable… but now I want to see whether you're the real thing!"
Ralph battered the Dullahan with quick strikes, but the monster parried them all as if swatting flies. The Dullahan turned and lunged for Ralph — but Asha, having finished dispatching the skeletons, joined the fray and thrust her spear between the Dullahan and Ralph. Ian's spirit revived at the sight of them fighting together; he charged once more.
The Dullahan laughed, "If you think numbers make a difference, you're sorely mistaken." And in a blink it was behind Ralph. Ralph tried to react, but the Dullahan was too fast — a single blow felled Ralph to the ground. The Dullahan pivoted to strike Asha; her defense held, but a thrust knocked her spear from her hand. The Dullahan raised its sword for the killing blow.
Ian leapt in from the side with his blade, but the Dullahan had anticipated the move and stopped Ian's sword with the other gauntleted hand. "You really thought that would work?" it hissed.
Then something happened that stunned both the Dullahan and Ian: Ian's sword drew a faint wound on the Dullahan's hand. The knight recoiled and demanded, "What trick did you use? You should not be able to hurt me."
Ian was as bewildered as anyone. He looked down and noticed blood on his blade — blood from when the Dullahan had kicked him and forced him to cough up blood that had splattered onto his sword earlier. A flash of insight struck him: the Dullahan — like many dark creatures — was vulnerable to blood. Regardless of raw power differences, the blood of a living being could harm darkness.
Acting on instinct, Ian sliced his left palm and smeared his own blood over the sword's blade. He lunged again, but the Dullahan sidestepped deftly and taunted, "It doesn't matter that your blade cuts me — first you must strike me."
The Dullahan moved back… and suddenly Ralph leapt onto its back from behind and grunted, "Don't forget me — for that kick." With a wrestling throw, Ralph suplexed the Dullahan to the ground, slamming the monstrous knight hard. "I can't hold it long," Ralph warned, breath ragged from effort.
Ian dove in while the Dullahan struggled beneath Ralph's grip. The headless knight fought to free itself, but Ralph held on with savage strength as Ian drove his blood-smeared sword into the Dullahan's chest.
The Dullahan roared in disbelief, "Impossible! How could I be felled by a couple of children?" And with that cry, it dissolved — scattering like dust on the wind.
Silence fell. The three of them lay panting, bleeding, and shaking — alive, though barely. The Dullahan's form vanished into nothing, and with its disappearance the oppressive darkness in the chamber finally eased.
Ian stared at his bloodied blade, heart pounding. He had no idea whether he'd fully understood why blood worked, or whether this method would always succeed. But one thing was now certain: sometimes the key to fighting the darkest monsters lay not in raw strength, but in discovering and using the right weakness — even if it cost you your own blood to do so.