The warning came in the form of a blood moon.
It rose over the fortress walls like an open wound in the sky, its light spilling across the land in pulsing waves. Every heartbeat it gave off carried a scent—iron, death, inevitability. The Hollow King wasn't just coming. He was already here.
The fortress gates shook under the force of a thousand strikes. Each blow from the enemy's siege beasts cracked stone like brittle bone. Horns blared, soldiers screamed, and the air reeked of burning qi and scorched flesh.
Russ stood atop the battlements, his scythe dripping with liquid shadow. His qi surged, spiraling around him in black and crimson threads, fusing with the Void energy that bled from his core.
"Ready the blood wards!" he roared. Mages below plunged knives into their palms, painting runes in their own lifeblood. The wards ignited, forming a red dome over the fortress—a barrier that fed on the enemy's fear.
It lasted seven seconds.
The Hollow King's first strike was a shadow spear, longer than the fortress itself, descending from the sky. Russ leapt, qi bursting from his feet like an explosion, meeting the spear mid-air. His scythe met the weapon with a clang that rang across the battlefield, shattering both weapon and sound barrier.
He landed hard, knees bending, and spat black blood. "You'll have to try harder."
From the enemy ranks, figures emerged—Blood Shades. Vampiric assassins whose bodies were smoke and steel. They slid through the shadows of the soldiers, bypassing walls as if they were mist.
Russ's eyes blazed. Blood Sense activated.
The world slowed, colors draining until only red remained—the heartbeat of every living thing pulsing like lanterns in the dark. He moved before they could strike, leaving afterimages of shadow as he cut them down. Each kill was clean, the scythe drinking their life essence and converting it into qi that roared back into his veins.
Kael fought at the gate, fists wrapped in molten qi, breaking siege beasts apart like fragile statues. Maven floated above the ramparts, weaving Shadow Qi into spears that phased through enemy armor before exploding into clouds of corrosive smoke.
But still… the tide didn't stop.
Russ drew on Blood Qi Burst—the forbidden art. His veins glowed crimson under his skin, muscles burning as his life force fused with his combat aura. When he swung now, the scythe's arcs weren't just cuts—they were reality rips, bleeding shadowfire that tore through dozens at a time.
Then, the ground beneath the enemy opened.
A colossal claw of shadow rose, the Hollow King's projection manifesting in full. The king's voice was thunder and whispers.
"Return my heirloom, child of Talen."
Russ snarled, slashing his palm. Blood dripped into the ground, and the earth answered—Crimson Dominion. Spires of blood crystal erupted around the fortress, impaling shadow beasts and forming a second wall made of his will.
He gathered his qi, Blood Qi and Shadow Qi swirling together until they became something new—Void Qi. The air cracked. The blood moon above dimmed.
Then he vanished.
In the blink of an eye, Russ was at the Hollow King's projection's chest, scythe raised. He channeled every drop of qi into the blade until it screamed with a sound that tore through both worlds.
The strike landed.
The projection shattered, but Russ collapsed to one knee. His blood steamed on the stone.
The Hollow King's voice still lingered in his head.
"You've drawn first blood. Now… I'll draw the last."