The wind was still heavy with the metallic tang of blood when Quinn felt it — a presence, cold and oppressive, cutting through the night air.
He turned slowly.
A figure stepped onto the ruined battlefield, boots crunching over broken stone and corpses. His armor was blackened steel, etched with crimson runes that pulsed faintly like a heartbeat. A long, jagged halberd rested casually on his shoulder. His face was obscured by a dark visor, but the aura he carried was unmistakable — ancient, heavy, and terrifying.
"You're the one they call Quinn," the figure said, his voice low and resonant. "The Shadow-Blood. I've been sent to kill you."
Quinn's crimson eyes narrowed. "And you are?"
The figure tilted his head slightly. "A problem you can't kill with shadows."
Quinn's shadow crept forward instinctively, tendrils lashing out toward the stranger. The moment they touched his feet, they disintegrated into smoke, as though burned by invisible flames.
What…? Quinn felt the shock ripple through him. His shadows — untouchable, unstoppable — had been erased in an instant.
The figure chuckled. "I carry the Lightbane Sigil. No shadow can touch me. You'll have to fight like a man, not a ghost."
Before Quinn could respond, the halberd came down in a flash. He barely dodged, the weapon smashing into the ground and shattering it like glass. The force of the blow sent Quinn skidding backward.
Quinn lunged, claws flashing with blood energy, but the warrior moved like a predator, deflecting with the halberd's shaft before slamming the butt into Quinn's ribs. The impact cracked bone, forcing Quinn to roll away before the follow-up strike could split him in half.
He's fast. And strong. And I can't use shadows…
Quinn's mind raced. He gathered blood qi in his palms, sending a wave of crimson spikes toward his opponent. The warrior simply spun his halberd, the runes flaring, cutting through the spikes like they were mist.
"Pathetic," the stranger said.
Quinn's lips curved into a grim smile. "We'll see."
He activated Crimson Surge, flooding his body with blood essence. His movements blurred as he darted in, striking with claw and fist. The halberd blocked, deflected, and countered — every exchange sending shockwaves through the air.
Quinn ducked under a sweeping strike and went for the legs, his claws tearing into the warrior's thigh — only to find the armor hard as forged stone. Sparks flew, but no blood spilled.
The halberd came down again. Quinn sidestepped — barely — and used the momentum to slash at the visor. A faint line appeared on the metal, but the man's laughter was cold.
"You're fighting the wrong battle."
Before Quinn could process the words, the warrior slammed the halberd into the ground. A burst of light erupted, forcing Quinn to shield his eyes. The blast seared his skin and forced him back, the pain unlike anything he had felt in years.
Light energy… it's poison to my power.
The warrior stalked forward. "You've grown powerful because of your shadows. But without them? You're just another killer."
Quinn spat blood, his grin widening. "Then I guess it's time you met the killer."
He pulled deep from within himself, drawing not from the shadows but from the raw, violent heartbeat of his blood core. The air thickened, vibrating with a crimson aura that had nothing to do with darkness.
Blood Dominion.
The ground beneath them cracked as the aura surged outward, warping the air. The warrior slowed for the first time, his halberd trembling slightly in his grip.
"Oh," Quinn said, his voice low and dangerous, "you're not the only one who can fight without tricks."
They clashed again — steel against claw, light against blood — and the battlefield erupted in a storm of pure violence.