The air becomes heavy now, and the ruined chamber of the manor is filled with dust, cracked walls, and the lingering heat of Jean's fire. Rubble covers the ground, and corpses of Taron's guards lay scattered in the courtyard below. The moonlight falls through the broken roof like a silver spotlight.
Taron Vesh pulls himself from the wall, spitting blood onto the floor. His serpent tattoo glows faintly again, veins bulging as his muscles tense. His eyes sharpen, locked on the man who just appeared.
Arin stands tall, katana in hand, his cloak swaying in the cold night wind flowing through the shattered windows. The sheath of his blade remains pierced in the stone floor behind him, like a gravestone waiting for its body. His red eyes burn, cracks crawling over his skin.
Neither of them speaks, and this silence itself feels sharp enough to cut. Then—
Boom!
Taron explodes forward first, his massive cleaver is swinging down with enough force to shatter stone. Arin meets the strike, katana raised with one hand. Sparks scatter across the room. The floor beneath Arin's feet cracks under the weight of the blow.
Arin exhales calmly. "Engrave."
Arin's blood stirs from his palm to his blade, crimson liquid flowing out and wrapping around the katana's edge. The blood twists violently, vibrating, spinning faster and faster until the blade hums with a sound like tearing flesh.
Now Arin's katana has become like a crimson chainsaw. Then Arin pushes forward.
Rrrrrrrrhhhhh!
Taron's cleaver screeches as the blood-forged blade saws into it, sparks flying, metal grinding against the unnatural weapon. Taron snarls, his strength forcing Arin backward, but Arin's glowing red eyes never leave his opponent.
Then Arin twists his blade upward, carving a scar across Taron's chest. Blood bursts out, splattering across the chamber.
Taron staggers back, his breath grows shallow. Wrinkles spread across his face, his hair losing its color, his body trembling as if the years themselves are dragging him down.
Arin narrows his eyes. Above Taron's head, he sees it clearly: the glowing numbers of lifespan dropping—
[145… 120… 100… 80… 65… 40… 20…]
Arin smirk. "Hmh, pathetic." Arin raises his katana, the chainsaw of blood still roaring. "Even your body knows you are finished."
But Taron laughs—a low and cruel laugh. Then he reaches into his pocket with trembling hands and pulls out something small—a glowing sphere, white-blue in color, pulsing like a heartbeat.
"Did you really think I would come without insurance?" His cracked voice echoes. Then without hesitation, he crushes the orb in his hand and swallows the shards and light.
Taron's body convulses violently. His veins bulge and bones snap back into place. Wrinkles burn away. His muscles swell, and his aura erupts like a storm.
Arin's eyes flick upward. Now his lifespan numbers rise—
[50… 100… 150… 200… 250 years.]
The pressure crushes the room. Cracks spread through the floor as Taron roars, his voice shaking the entire manor. His serpent tattoo blazes, glowing brighter than fire, and his speed multiplies. Now his cleaver burns with black aura.
"Now, boy… let's see how much of your blood I can spill."
Then Taron vanishes. Arin reacts instantly, parrying a strike that comes from his blind spot. The clash throws him across the chamber, smashing him through a stone pillar.
Taron is already there, swinging again. Arin deflects, rolling sideways, his blood-forged katana grinding against the cleaver. Each clash is deafening, echoing like thunder.
[Lifespan: 30 years]
Arin sees this message, then slides back, planting his katana into the ground. He releases the blood from the blade, letting it drip away. His eyes narrow.
"Passive, deactivate."
The cracks on his skin vanish. The room grows darker, and shadows ripple under his feet.
"Shadow Step."
In a blink, Arin disappears. Taron swings wildly, his cleaver tearing through empty air. Then pain—sharp, burning pain—strikes his side. Arin appears behind him, hand pressed against Taron's ribcage.
[Life Drain Activated]
[-5 years]
Taron snarls, swinging backward, but Arin vanishes again. He reappears on Taron's back, pressing a palm to his shoulder.
[-10 years]
He disappears before the cleaver can split him in half. Taron spins wildly, aura raging. Arin appears again, crouched low, hand pressed to Taron's leg.
[-8 years]
Blood sprays from Taron's mouth. His eyes dart around, fury overtaking reason. He slashes in every direction, but Arin is a shadow, untouchable, draining Taron's life piece by piece.
Arin consumes Taron's lifespan from his neck, arm, chest, side, and leg. Each touch burns Taron's life away without killing him fully. His lifespan numbers flicker—
[250… 240… 225… 210… 195…]
Arin reappears a few steps away, katana back in his hand. He watches calmly, his breathing steady despite the blood dripping from his lips.
"You can consume a hundred orbs. You can steal years. But in the end…" Arin raises the katana, eyes glowing red as he activates his passive once more. "…your debt always comes due."
Taron roars and charges, cleaver raised high, aura exploding.
Arin vanishes again.
Boom!
Dust covers the whole area. As it settles, Kaelor sees that Taron is now on the ground, covered in blood.
Arin stands behind Kaelor. Kaelor senses him. He is sitting beside Jean's old body, holding his own chest because blood is still continuously flowing out. "You are the new face. But… thanks for the help."
"I am not a new face, I am just not rich enough to be seen by royal eyes." Arin smirks and replies, then sheaths his katana.
After that, Kaelor falls unconscious, having lost too much blood. Arin comes near him and puts his hand on Kaelor's chest to block his blood loss.
"How am I supposed to help him? I am not a doctor."
[You can level up. Do you want to?]
[ Yes or no ]
"Of course I want to."
[Level up]
[Blood Manipulation (level 2)]
[Now you can manipulate other living beings' blood after touching their blood.]
"That can help. You always have a way to help me."
Arin uses Kaelor's blood and makes a blood clot on his wound. This way Arin stops Kaelor's bleeding. Then he stands up.
"Hey system, how many years do I have now?"
[150 years]
"Hmm, that's too much, but if I have to use my passive more, I'll need more years." Arin looks toward Taron's unconscious body. "So now I already helped this kingdom. Now it's obvious to get my rewards."
Then Arin starts laughing, and after that, he begins draining the lives of the fallen soldiers and Taron's men.
To be continued…