The torchlight guttered like dying candles as the dungeon warped under the pull of the message. Time staggered—half-frozen, half-pulsing. Guards lunged, but their spears dragged through the air as if mired in tar.
Noctis lifted his head, crimson-gold eyes narrowing on the glowing screen before him.
Vaeltharion Noctis – The Crimson Inheritor
Vitality: [Stable – 72%]
Hunger: [Satiated – 41%]Will: [Tense – 55%]
Menus pulsed faintly at the top: Equipment / Skills / Traits / Evolution Tree / Blood Grid.
A spear hovered inches from his ribs, frozen in the staggered pulse of slowed time. Noctis smirked, and instead of defending, he reached for the menu.
"Blood Grid," he thought.
The screen fractured into crimson shards and reformed into a lattice, veins of glowing red stretching upward. The lowest tier burned faintly:
Root: Crimson Awakening– Wraith Step (Unlocked)– Blood Field [3m] (Unlocked)– Devour [Contact] (Unlocked)
Above them stretched dim nodes branching outward: beast forms, weapon mutations, shadow skills—all hazy, locked.
Noctis's smirk deepened. "So this is what they left inside me. The system of chains carved into my blood."
The pulsing slowed further. A droplet of blood hung in the air, trembling. Noctis traced the lattice, eyes glinting.
One faint node shimmered:
Blood Lash – Tier 1 Mutation.
Cost: 10 Blood Essence.
Another flickered like shadow between bars:
Specter's Veil – Tier 1 Movement.
Cost: 8 Blood Essence.
His grin widened. "Kill to grow. Drink to evolve. Their torture gave me a weapon they never meant to."
He flicked back to the Status Screen. Traits pulsed beneath his name:
– Crimson Inheritor (Lineage): Enhanced regeneration, Devour synergy.– Shackled Fury (Condition): Stats suppressed by chains and experimental trauma. Power locked until further evolution.
A low laugh rumbled in his chest. "…Suppressed? Then this is only the prologue."
The pulse of time quickened. The spear inched forward again, then lunged at full speed.
Noctis blurred—Wraith Step—vanishing as the blade sliced through mist. He reappeared behind the guard, claws tearing through his back.
The screen lingered at the edge of his vision, blood-red and waiting. He lunged again, spear skewering another soldier, pulling him into Devour. Hunger ticked upward, Will steadied.
"Good," Noctis growled, fangs bared. "Every kill brings me closer to the next chain to break."
The priests raised their censers, smoke filling the hall. Guards shouted and pressed forward.
And Noctis's eyes flicked to the Blood Grid once more. His lips curled. "Let's see how fast I can earn my first evolution."
The priests' chanting rose, smoke thickening until it burned his throat. Guards surged as one, spears stabbing in a storm of steel.
Noctis stood still for half a heartbeat, crimson mist flaring tighter around his body. His Hunger bar pulsed in the corner of his vision—half-full, trembling. His eyes flicked to the hovering lattice.
The Blood Grid gleamed, a faint node above his current tier glowing brighter with every life he devoured.
Blood Lash – Tier 1 Mutation.
Cost: 10 Blood Essence.
His lip curled, exposing fangs. "Close enough."
He blurred—Wraith Step—vanishing through the first spear wall. Reappearing, his claws slashed open a guard's jugular in a spray of crimson. The mist thickened, pulling the blood into him.
+3 Blood Essence.
Another guard lunged. Noctis ducked under the thrust, drove his stolen spear into the man's stomach, then dragged him into Devour. The body withered, crumbling into ash.
+5 Blood Essence.
The Grid pulsed violently. The node burned brighter, waiting.
Noctis roared, voice echoing against stone. "Break."
The lattice shattered forward. The locked node flared crimson, exploding into his vision. His veins burned like molten fire.
[Blood Lash – Unlocked.]Your arms extend with whip-like veins of hardened blood, striking foes at medium range. Damage scales with Hunger.
His right arm twitched—and then snapped, veins ripping outward from his flesh in a whip of pulsing scarlet. The bloody lash cracked through the air like thunder, striking a guard across the chest. Armor split, ribs shattered, the man hurled into the stone wall with a sickening crunch.
The priests recoiled, chants faltering.
Noctis stared at his arm, blood still writhing, then grinned, wide and hungry. "…Now we're talking."
Another guard rushed. Noctis swung the lash—its tip pierced the man's armor and yanked him forward, straight into waiting claws.
Devour. The guard shrieked, then turned to ash in his grasp.
His Hunger bar surged.
The priests tried to rally, raising their censers high. "Light protect us—"
Noctis's lash snapped again, cutting one down mid-prayer. The other screamed and ran, smoke trailing after him.
The dungeon fell silent.
Noctis flexed his hand. The lash receded back into his arm, leaving faint cracks glowing under his skin. His smile was feral, dripping with satisfaction.
"The first chain," he muttered. "Broken."
But the silence didn't last. From deeper in the dungeon, heavy steps echoed—boots striking with practiced rhythm. Chains rattled. Something larger moved in the dark.
Noctis raised his spear and smirked, blood still dripping from his new weaponized veins.
The silence after the slaughter was thick, broken only by the hiss of burning incense and the drip of blood pooling on stone. Noctis stood among the ashes of priests and guards, his crimson lash retracting into his arm with a wet slither.
Then the air shifted.
Heavy boots echoed down the hall—slow, deliberate, each step ringing with authority. Chains rattled in time, dragging against the stones.
Noctis's smirk widened. "Finally… something interesting."
The torchlight trembled as the figure appeared at the far end of the corridor.
A towering man clad head to toe in blackened steel armor, etched with holy runes. His helm was horned, visor glowing faintly with sanctified light. Across his shoulders draped a mantle of scorched cloth, and in his hands he carried a colossal flail—its chain links thick as wrists, its spiked iron head dripping with consecrated oil.
The Inquisitor Champion.
He stopped at the threshold, voice like gravel scraped across steel. "Monster. Your blasphemy ends here."
The Blood Grid pulsed faintly in Noctis's vision. A warning.
[Caution: Target Resists Blood Field]
Noctis chuckled, raising his stolen spear. "Resists, does he? Let's test that theory."
He stepped forward, crimson mist erupting around him. The Blood Field spread, three meters of choking hunger. Ashes at his feet stirred, blood still staining the stone—but the Champion didn't falter. His armor glowed faintly, the runes across his breastplate burning with pale fire.
The mist curled against him, and hissed as if burned.
Noctis's eyes narrowed. "So… a wall of steel and scripture."
The Inquisitor swung. The flail's head screamed through the air, a blur of iron. Noctis blurred—Wraith Step—vanishing just before the impact. The weapon smashed into the wall, stone exploding into shards.
Reappearing at the man's flank, Noctis lashed out. His arm snapped forward, veins erupting into a crimson whip. The Blood Lash cracked across the Champion's armor. Sparks flew—but no penetration.
The Inquisitor turned his helm, voice low and cold. "Your tricks are meaningless."
The flail surged again, forcing Noctis back. The sheer force of the swing tore grooves in the stone floor.
Noctis smirked, crimson-gold eyes gleaming. "Meaningless? No. Just needs the right application."
The Champion advanced, every step steady, the dungeon trembling with his weight. Noctis crouched low, spear in one hand, blood still twitching under his skin.
The first true battle of his escape had begun.
The dungeon corridor became a cage of steel and shadow.
The Inquisitor Champion advanced with relentless calm, every step measured, every swing of his colossal flail a death sentence. Sparks flew with each impact as the spiked head tore through stone, leaving gouges in the walls and floor.
Noctis circled him, spear gripped in one hand, blood pulsing beneath his skin. His eyes glimmered with hunger and calculation.
"Let's see what bites."
He flared his Blood Field, crimson mist boiling outward. The Champion didn't slow. Runes across his armor glowed brighter, burning the mist away in hissing tendrils.
Noctis smirked. So. Field useless. Next.
The flail swung low. Noctis blurred—Wraith Step—vanishing and reappearing at the Champion's back. His claws lashed for the joints of the armor. Sparks screeched as metal deflected them. No purchase.
The Champion turned instantly, backhanding with his gauntleted fist. The blow caught Noctis across the jaw, sending him sprawling into the wall with a crash.
He rose slowly, licking blood from his lips, grin widening. "Good. You hit harder than the fodder."
The Champion raised his flail, runes blazing. "You cannot hide, creature. Your death is inevitable."
Noctis's eyes narrowed. "Hide? No. Adapt."
He lashed out with Blood Lash. Crimson veins snapped through the air, curling around the Champion's arm. Noctis pulled hard, trying to wrench the flail wide.
The runes on the armor burned hotter. The lash hissed and sizzled, melting away as though scorched by holy fire.
Noctis's grin twitched. "…So much for leash tricks."
The flail came down again. Noctis blurred aside at the last moment—Wraith Step—the weapon smashing into the ground where he had stood, leaving a crater of shattered stone.
Noctis appeared at the man's flank, drove his spear forward at the gap between helm and gorget. The tip slid across the runes, skittering uselessly.
The Champion turned his helm, the glow within his visor like cold fire. "You are a rat. Nothing more."
Noctis stepped back, pacing, watching the man's rhythm. The Field burned away, Lash dissolved, claws blunted against scripture.
But his grin only grew sharper.
"Steel cracks," he murmured. "Runes flicker. All I need is patience."
The Champion advanced again, flail sweeping in slow, brutal arcs. Noctis darted, circled, vanished and reappeared in clouds of mist, always searching for a seam, a weakness.
Each time he tested—Field, Lash, Claw—the Champion's defenses flared, perfect and absolute.
And still Noctis smirked, golden-crimson eyes glowing in the dark.
"This isn't your hunt, priest," he whispered, crouching low as the flail screamed past him again. "It's mine."
The dungeon walls shook with every swing. The Champion's flail shrieked through the air, stone erupting wherever it struck. Sparks rained as steel scraped stone, the holy runes across his armor blazing with unwavering light.
Noctis blurred and shifted, a predator testing a cage. Wraith Step carried him through narrow gaps, his claws and lash striking again and again—always failing, always hissing away against holy fire.
But his eyes never stopped watching.
The Champion paused only once, just long enough to shift his stance. The flail's runes dimmed for half a breath before blazing bright again.
Noctis's lips curled. There.
He darted forward, aura flaring, and lashed his arm. The Blood Lash snapped against the flail's chain—not to bind, but to pull. The runes on the weapon flickered, sparks spraying.
The Champion ripped the lash free with brute strength, armor hissing as it burned the blood away. "You are persistent, abomination. Futile."
Noctis tilted his head, smirking. "Persistent, yes. Futile… no."
He circled again, faster, his eyes fixed not on the man, but on the weapon. The Champion swung wide. The runes across the chain flared bright—then dulled as the momentum slowed.
Every strike burned essence. Every glow drained the script.
And every pause left the runes weaker.
Noctis darted in close. The flail whistled past his head, shattering stone. He lunged, claws striking the joint at the Champion's elbow. Sparks flew—but this time, the runes there sputtered weakly. The blow sank deeper.
The Champion staggered, gauntlet jerking.
Noctis's grin split wide, fangs flashing. "…Your armor doesn't shield forever. It eats itself with every swing."
The Inquisitor's helm turned, visor blazing with anger. "Blasphemer!" He raised the flail, runes straining to ignite once more.
Noctis's mist flared, chains rattling as he crouched low, ready to strike.
"Not blasphemy," he growled, crimson light burning under his skin. "Opportunity."
The Champion raised his colossal flail once more, runes blazing bright across its length. Each swing scorched the air with holy fire, each impact tore stone into splinters.
Noctis slipped between the arcs, mist curling around his form. His crimson-gold eyes tracked every pulse of light, every flare, every flicker.
There. The runes burn too hot. They dim with each strike.
The Champion roared, voice reverberating through the dungeon. "Your resistance is meaningless! All who bear the curse of night—"
The flail swung down, runes blazing.
Noctis blurred—Wraith Step—vanishing as the weapon slammed into the floor. The chain groaned, links sparking with strain. The runes sputtered for a fraction of a second.
And in that instant, Noctis struck.
His arm snapped forward, Blood Lash erupting in a whip of crimson veins. It coiled around the flail's shaft, constricting like a serpent.
The Champion snarled, trying to wrench it free, but Noctis was already moving. He lunged, claws digging into the weakened joint of the chain.
Crimson light flared. Sparks exploded.
The runes burned once—twice—then shattered.
The flail's head tore free, crashing to the floor with a thunderous clang. The chain snapped, fragments scattering across the dungeon. The holy fire sputtered out, leaving only faint glowing scars across the metal.
The Champion staggered, suddenly vulnerable. His helm tilted toward Noctis in disbelief. "You… dare—"
Noctis grinned, blood dripping from his claws. "I don't just dare. I break your gods' toys."
He seized the fallen flail-head with one hand, lifting it despite its massive weight. Blood veins crawled across its surface, wrapping around it like tendrils. His Hunger bar ticked upward as the weapon drank from his aura, reshaping itself in his grip.
The Blood Grid pulsed.
[Adaptive Weaponization: Triggered]Your blood feeds into broken steel, reshaping it for your use.
The massive flail-head hissed, crimson veins stitching into the cracks. What had been a holy weapon now pulsed with dark red light.
Noctis turned it once, smirking at the Champion. "Now… let's see how you like being on the other end."
The Champion roared, drawing a blade from his hip. Sparks lit the hall as steel clashed, holy fire against crimson blood.
The dungeon shook with every breath of the duel. Sparks danced like fireflies, ash swirled where the dead had fallen.
Noctis hefted the corrupted flail-head in one hand, its once-holy steel now pulsing with red veins that twitched like living flesh. It hummed with his Hunger, eager to crush.
The Inquisitor Champion advanced with his longsword raised, runes glowing along the blade's edge. His voice was thunder behind the horned helm. "Profaner! You twist what is sacred!"
Noctis smirked, spinning the massive flail-head on its crimson veins like it weighed nothing. "Sacred? No. Useful."
The Champion lunged, sword flashing in a deadly arc. Noctis met the blow head-on, swinging the corrupted flail. The impact cracked like thunder. Steel rang against steel—then the flail's head slammed into the Champion's chestplate.
CRACK.
The runes across the armor sputtered. A glowing fracture spiderwebbed across the breastplate.
The Champion staggered back, snarling. Noctis advanced, each swing of the corrupted weapon heavier, hungrier.
Another strike crashed against the pauldron. CRACK. Armor dented, fragments scattering across the floor.
The Champion raised his sword in desperation, blocking a third swing—but the veins along the flail writhed, gripping the blade. Noctis twisted, ripping the weapon aside. His follow-up slammed into the man's ribs.
CRACK. The armor split.
Noctis's grin widened, fangs gleaming. "I told you, steel cracks."
The Champion roared, driving forward in sheer fury. His blade flashed again, carving a shallow gash across Noctis's chest. Black blood hissed against the air, sizzling where it landed.
Noctis only laughed, stepping into the pain. "Yes… break me harder."
He swung again, the corrupted flail whistling through the air. This time, it connected with the Champion's helm.
CRACK.
The visor split down the center, one glowing eye exposed beneath.
The Champion staggered, gasping raggedly, blood spilling through the gap. Yet his will did not falter. He raised his sword again, voice trembling with rage and faith. "I… will not… fall to you!"
Noctis's golden-crimson eyes gleamed, aura flaring. "You already have."
He swung the corrupted flail in a brutal overhead arc. The impact shook the dungeon, stone splitting beneath their feet. The Champion's armor shattered across his chest and shoulders, fragments scattering like broken glass.
The man fell to his knees, still clutching his sword, still burning with faint holy fire—but his protection was gone.
Noctis stood over him, blood whip twitching at his side, corrupted flail pulsing in his grip.
"Your chains are broken," he said softly. "Now… you're mine."
The dungeon echoed with the ragged breaths of the Inquisitor Champion. His armor lay in fragments across the stone, holy runes dimming, one eye glaring defiantly through the split visor.
Noctis loomed above him, corrupted flail resting on his shoulder, crimson veins pulsing like a second heartbeat. The hunger gnawed at him, whispering, Finish it. Consume him. Claim it.
The Champion raised his longsword with trembling arms. "Monster… even broken, I will fight—"
Noctis dropped the flail. His hand shot out, claws clamping onto the man's helm. The runes sputtered at the contact, glowing weakly—then shattering under the surge of crimson light.
The Champion screamed as Noctis's eyes burned bright.
"Devour."
The air warped. Blood erupted in glowing threads from every crack in the man's body—through wounds, pores, even his eye. They streamed into Noctis's palm, siphoned into his veins with a hiss like boiling water.
The Champion convulsed, his sword clattering to the ground. His voice turned from rage to agony, then to nothing but a choked gurgle. His body shriveled, armor clattering empty to the floor.
Moments later, he was ash.
Noctis stood in the silence, his breath slow and steady, the last threads of crimson essence coiling into him. His wounds knit shut. His strength surged. His Hunger bar pulsed, climbing higher, his Will refilled to the brim.
The Blood Grid burned in his vision.
[Devour: Major Essence Absorbed]
Inquisitor Champion – Sanctified Strength unlocked.
+12 Blood Essence
New Trait: Resist (Minor) Holy Damage
Noctis smirked, flexing his claws. "Perfect. Even their faith feeds me."
He turned, the corrupted flail still pulsing in his grip. Around him, the dungeon groaned, as though more enemies stirred deeper within.
The ashes of the Champion still smoldered, faint motes of sanctified light evaporating into nothing. Noctis stood above the wreckage, his corrupted flail humming faintly as if satisfied with its feast.
The Blood Grid pulsed in his vision, urgent and insistent. He raised his hand, claws twitching, and willed it open.
Crimson veins unfurled into a lattice, new nodes glowing with fresh intensity. One pulsed brightest of all, shaped like a slit-pupil eye burning with scarlet light.
[New Evolution Available]Crimson Eye of Revelation
See through lies of flesh and steel.
Reveal status, strength, weakness.
Cost: 12 Blood Essence.
Noctis's grin sharpened. "An eye that sees more than light. An eye that feeds me data."
He didn't hesitate. He reached through the lattice and seized the node. Crimson fire seared his skull, veins burning upward into his eyes. For a heartbeat, the dungeon vanished into red haze—then sharpened again, but with layers of new clarity.
Floating text appeared above the broken armor on the ground:
[Inquisitor Champion – Slain]Class: Elite Boss – Human Inquisitor
Health: 0 / 10,000
Stamina: 0 / 2,000
Mana: 0 / 500Status: Consumed
Noctis chuckled low, his eyes glowing faintly crimson-gold, slit pupils narrowing like a predator. "Now I see their lives as numbers. Their weakness as bars to bleed dry."
He turned toward the hall, where more footsteps echoed closer. His gaze flicked forward, and data appeared above the oncoming forms.
[Inquisitor Zealot – Lv. 14]
Health: 720 / 720
Stamina: 210 / 210
Mana: 80 / 80
[Sanctum Priest – Lv. 18]
Health: 540 / 540
Stamina: 160 / 160Mana: 600 / 600
Floating damage trackers shimmered faintly beside them, glowing empty but ready to fill.
Noctis grinned wider, fangs glinting. "Perfect. I'll carve their bars down to zero… or overkill."
The Blood Grid shimmered once more, sealing the ability into his core.
From this point forward, every foe before the Crimson Inheritor would be laid bare—their names, their strength, their unraveling measured blow by blow.
He tightened his grip on the corrupted flail. "Let the hunt become a ledger of blood."
The footsteps quickened. The next wave had arrived.
And now, nothing could hide from his gaze.