The dungeon widened into a vaulted hall, torchlight flickering weakly against damp stone. Voices echoed ahead—more numerous, layered with unease.
Through the Crimson Eye, Noctis saw them before stepping into view: a full squad, twelve strong. Eight zealots formed a shield wall, and four priests huddled in their center, censer smoke hanging thick in the air. Their health bars burned bright in clustered formation, fragile flames waiting to be snuffed.
[Inquisitor Zealot – Lv. 13–16]
Health Range: 655–810
[Sanctum Priest – Lv. 15–18]
Health Range: 490–560
Mana Range: 540–610
The priests muttered hurried prayers, voices cracking with strain.
"Hold formation."
"Do not falter. The Champion's ward may have broken, but the light is still with us."
"The monster cannot pass through holy steel."
Their confidence was brittle, already frayed.
Noctis pulled the priest's hood lower, adjusting the censer at his belt. The Veil of Piety shimmered faintly, cloaking the storm beneath. He walked forward calmly, shackles dragging softly across stone like chains of devotion.
The zealots at the edge of the formation stiffened, spears lowering. "Identify yourself!"
Noctis did not break stride. He tilted his head just enough for the hood's golden threads to catch torchlight. To their eyes, he was nothing but another weary priest.
"I bring word," he rasped, his voice coated in false reverence. "The others… are gone."
Gasps rippled through the group. The priests inside the circle clutched their censers tighter. One stepped forward, hood trembling. "Gone? Speak plain, brother!"
Noctis's Crimson Eye glowed faintly behind the veil. He saw their bars, their mana reserves, their fear bleeding into numbers. His hunger pressed against the disguise, eager to unravel it here and now.
"The dark swallows all who wander," Noctis said slowly. "And soon, it will swallow you."
The priests froze. One zealot tightened his grip on his spear, suspicion rising in his eyes. "What do you mean by that?"
For a moment, silence stretched, broken only by the faint rattle of his chains.
Noctis smiled under the hood. Fangs pressed faintly against his lips. "That the wolf has walked into the flock."
The Veil of Piety flickered. Crimson bled through the gold.
The zealots shouted, shields slamming into place. The priests screamed prayers, their Mana bars flaring as barriers ignited.
And Noctis laughed low, corrupted sword sliding free of its sheath, Crimson Eye blazing like fire through the illusion.
"Let's see how quickly your numbers drop to zero."
The hall erupted into chaos the instant the Veil of Piety fell. Crimson fire blazed from Noctis's eyes, shattering the illusion of sanctity. His shackles clanged as he lunged forward, predator revealed, predator unleashed.
The zealots slammed their shields together in a wall, spears bristling. The priests shrieked prayers, their Mana bars flaring as golden barriers bloomed in frantic desperation.
Noctis struck before the formation could settle. His corrupted longsword carved down like a guillotine.
–812 [Critical Strike]
Health: 0 / 810 [Overkill]
[Essence Gained: +4 Blood, +2 Iron]
The first zealot split in two, shield clattering to the ground. Ash drifted across the formation.
"Hold! HOLD!" another zealot screamed, but his bar was already flashing red. Noctis blurred—Wraith Step—and reappeared inside the wall. His corrupted flail smashed wide, pulping two zealots in one brutal swing.
–765 [Crushing Blow]
Health: 0 / 765 [Killed]
[Essence Gained: +4 Blood, +1 Iron]
–725 [Overkill]
Health: 0 / 725 [Killed]
[Essence Gained: +3 Blood, +1 Iron]
The priests wailed, raising barriers around themselves. Golden domes shimmered, runes flaring with desperate light.
Noctis's Crimson Eye read them instantly:
[Holy Barrier – Integrity: 1,200 / 1,200 |
Regen: +100/sec |
Weakness: Blood-corruption surge]
He snarled, veins flaring. Blood Lash shot from his arm, crimson tendrils wrapping around the ward. Corruption seeped through the cracks, drinking their prayers dry.
–382 [Corruption Surge]
Integrity: 818 / 1,200
Mana Drain: –140
The first priest shrieked, clutching his censer.
Health: 490 / 490
Mana: 420 / 560
Noctis yanked. The barrier shattered in a spray of golden shards. His claws buried into the priest's chest.
–490 [Devour]
Health: 0 / 490 [Consumed]
[Essence Gained: +5 Blood, +2 Faith]
The second priest screamed, stumbling back, but Noctis was already on him. His blade sheared through barrier and flesh alike.
–545 [Overkill]
Health: 0 / 545 [Killed]
[Essence Gained: +5 Blood, +2 Faith]
"Monster!" a zealot bellowed, lunging. His spear pierced Noctis's side, health bar ticking.
–184 [Pierce]
Noctis Health: 1,346 / 1,530
Noctis grinned, blood sizzling from the wound. "Yes. The monster."
He wrenched the spear free, dragging the zealot closer. His fangs sank into the man's throat.
–655 [Devour Critical]
Health: 0 / 655 [Consumed]
[Essence Gained: +3 Blood, +1 Iron]
The last two zealots panicked, shields raised. Their bars flickered red as fear drained stamina.
Stamina: 210 / 210 → 90 / 210
Noctis blurred behind them. His flail swung wide.
–389 [Backstrike]
Health: 0 / 389 [Killed]
[Essence Gained: +2 Blood]
–412 [Overkill]
Health: 0 / 412 [Killed]
[Essence Gained: +3 Blood, +1 Iron]
The final priest raised his hands, screaming a prayer, golden light flaring desperately. Noctis hurled a blood-forged dagger through his skull.
–560 [Crimson Arsenal: Throwing Dagger Critical]
Health: 0 / 560 [Killed]
[Essence Gained: +5 Blood, +3 Faith]
Silence.
Ash swirled across the hall, drifting down like snowfall. The censer smoke died. Only Noctis remained, standing over the ruin of twelve lives, his robes charred crimson, his eyes still burning like molten gold.
The Blood Grid pulsed faintly, nodes glowing brighter with the feast of essence he had claimed.
He exhaled, low and steady, before whispering into the silence:
"Your faith is fuel. Your prayers are ash. And I am the fire between them."
The hall erupted into chaos the instant the Veil of Piety fell. Crimson fire blazed from Noctis's eyes, shattering the illusion of sanctity. Shackles clanged as he surged forward, predator revealed, predator unleashed.
The zealots slammed their shields together in a wall, spears bristling. The priests shrieked prayers, their Mana bars flaring as golden barriers bloomed in frantic desperation.
Noctis struck before the formation could settle. His corrupted longsword carved down like a guillotine.
–812 [Critical Strike]
Health: 0 / 810 [Overkill]
[Essence Gained: +4 Blood, +2 Iron]
The first zealot split in two, shield clattering to the floor. Ash drifted across the formation.
"Hold! HOLD!" another zealot screamed, but his bar was already flashing red. Noctis blurred—Wraith Step—and reappeared inside the wall. His corrupted flail smashed wide, pulping two zealots in one brutal swing.
–765 [Crushing Blow]
Health: 0 / 765 [Killed]
[Essence Gained: +4 Blood, +1 Iron]
–725 [Overkill]
Health: 0 / 725 [Killed]
[Essence Gained: +3 Blood, +1 Iron]
The priests wailed, raising barriers around themselves. Golden domes shimmered, runes flaring with desperate light.
Noctis's Crimson Eye read them instantly:
[Holy Barrier – Integrity: 1,200 / 1,200 | Regen: +100/sec | Weakness: Blood-corruption surge]
He snarled, veins flaring. Blood Lash shot from his arm, crimson tendrils wrapping around the ward. Corruption seeped through the cracks, drinking their prayers dry.
–382 [Corruption Surge]
Integrity: 818 / 1,200
Mana Drain: –140
The first priest shrieked, clutching his censer.
Health: 490 / 490
Mana: 420 / 560
Noctis yanked. The barrier shattered in a spray of golden shards. His claws buried into the priest's chest.
–490 [Devour]
Health: 0 / 490 [Consumed]
[Essence Gained: +5 Blood, +2 Faith]
The second priest screamed, stumbling back, but Noctis was already on him. His blade sheared through barrier and flesh alike.
–545 [Overkill]
Health: 0 / 545 [Killed]
[Essence Gained: +5 Blood, +2 Faith]
"Monster!" a zealot bellowed, lunging. His spear pierced Noctis's side, health bar ticking.
–184 [Pierce]
Noctis Health: 1,346 / 1,530
Noctis grinned, blood sizzling from the wound. "Yes. The monster."
He wrenched the spear free, dragging the zealot closer. His fangs sank into the man's throat.
–655 [Devour Critical]
Health: 0 / 655 [Consumed]
[Essence Gained: +3 Blood, +1 Iron]
The last two zealots panicked, shields raised. Their bars flickered red as fear drained stamina.
Stamina: 210 / 210 → 90 / 210
Noctis blurred behind them. His flail swung wide.
–389 [Backstrike]
Health: 0 / 389 [Killed]
[Essence Gained: +2 Blood]
–412 [Overkill]
Health: 0 / 412 [Killed]
[Essence Gained: +3 Blood, +1 Iron]
The final priest raised his hands, screaming a prayer, golden light flaring desperately. Noctis crouched, claws tearing a chunk of iron from a broken shield. He clenched it in his fist, Blood Forging igniting—veins of crimson searing across the shard, shaping it into a jagged spike.
He hurled it.
–560 [Blood-Forged Shard Critical]
Health: 0 / 560 [Killed]
[Essence Gained: +5 Blood, +3 Faith]
Silence.
Ash swirled across the hall, drifting down like snowfall. The censer smoke guttered and died. Only Noctis remained, standing over the ruin of twelve lives, his robes charred crimson, his eyes still burning molten gold.
The Blood Grid pulsed faintly, nodes glowing brighter with the feast of essence he had claimed.
He exhaled, low and steady, before whispering into the silence:
"Your faith is fuel. Your prayers are ash. And I am the fire between them."
The silence after slaughter was deafening. Ash drifted in lazy spirals through the vaulted hall, settling across broken shields and shattered censers. The only sound was the slow drip of blood sliding down Noctis's blade, pattering softly onto stone.
He tilted his head, letting the crimson glow of his eyes fade for a moment. Hunger coiled low in his chest, but it was muted—sated by the flood of flesh and faith he had consumed.
The Blood Grid pulsed in his vision, answering the feast. He summoned it, and the lattice of crimson veins unfolded before him like a living map. Nodes burned brighter, gold threads now woven among the red.
[Essence Balance Available]
Blood: +46
Faith: +8
Iron: +7
The grid shimmered, new possibilities awakening.
Sanctified Shroud (Tier II – Faith/Blood)
Corrupt holy light into armor; shields you against divine wards.
Cost: 15 Blood, 5 Faith
Req: Veil of Piety unlocked.
Revelation Gaze (Tier II – Faith/Blood)
Expand the Crimson Eye to pierce barriers, illusions, and enemy intentions.
Cost: 15 Blood, 5 Faith
Req: Crimson Eye unlocked.
Sanguine Crucible (Tier II – Blood/Iron)
Forge battlefield remains into weapons or armor mid-combat.
Cost: 20 Blood, 7 Iron
Req: Blood Forging unlocked.
The nodes pulsed in turn, each whispering promise.
Noctis crouched among the ashes, claws dragging across the stone. His gaze lingered on the glowing names, his grin faint but sharp.
"Shroud to walk their light… Gaze to see through their lies… Crucible to arm myself with their corpses."
He exhaled slowly, the breath curling like smoke. The dungeon stank of incense and fear. The survivors deeper within would not remain still forever.
The Blood Grid flickered impatiently. The choice loomed.
The Blood Grid pulsed like a living heart, veins of crimson and gold threading across his vision. Every node flickered with promise—some within reach, others glowing faintly, locked behind hunger yet to be sated.
Noctis didn't hesitate. His claws reached for the node that burned hottest, its veins shot through with faint traces of Faith.
The lattice shattered.
[Skill Unlocked: Crimson Arsenal]Summon temporary weapons from blood essence. Shape at will, but fragile and short-lived.Cost Paid: –15 Blood, –5 FaithEssence Remaining: Blood 31 / Faith 3 / Iron 7
Power surged instantly. His blood stirred, molten and restless, aching to become steel.
He raised his hand. Blood welled outward, twisting, hardening into a dagger—thin, crimson-veined, balanced perfectly for killing.
He flicked his wrist.
The dagger hissed across the hall, drilling through a corpse's skull before dissolving in a puff of red mist.
Another, then another. Each came easily, vanishing within seconds. His grin widened.
"Ephemeral… but deadly. A storm waiting to be called."
He tried shaping larger forms—a longsword, a spear. Both drained essence heavily and collapsed after a heartbeat. Wasteful. Daggers, however—swift, efficient, brutal—were the perfect choice for his rhythm.
The Grid pulsed again, rippling outward. The entire lattice shimmered, its branches glowing faintly.
⚔️ Combat Branch
Blood Field (Tier I) – Unlocked
Blood Lash (Tier I) – Unlocked
Blood Flood (Tier II) – 20 Blood → Available
Crimson Arsenal (Tier II) – Unlocked
Bloodstorm (Tier III) – 25 Blood, 10 Faith → Unavailable (Faith too low)
Crimson Dominion (Tier IV) – 40 Blood, 15 Faith → Unavailable
🌑 Movement Branch
Wraith Step (Tier I) – Unlocked
Shadowmeld (Tier II) – 20 Blood, 6 Faith → Unavailable
🛡️ Survival Branch
Devour (Tier I) – Unlocked
Sanguine Regeneration (Tier II) – 15 Blood, 5 Faith → Unavailable
Crimson Cocoon (Tier III) – 35 Blood, 10 Faith → Unavailable
⚒️ Forging Branch
Blood Forging (Tier I) – Unlocked
Sanguine Crucible (Tier II) – 20 Blood, 7 Iron → Available
Dominion Armory (Tier III) – 40 Blood, 15 Iron → Unavailable
✝️ Faith/Deception Branch
Veil of Piety (Tier I) – Unlocked
Sanctified Shroud (Tier II) – 15 Blood, 5 Faith → Unavailable (Faith too low)
Crimson Eye (Tier I) – Unlocked
Revelation Gaze (Tier II) – 15 Blood, 5 Faith → Unavailable (Faith too low)
Only two nodes glowed within reach:
Blood Flood (Tier II Combat) → expand his field of hunger to a ten-meter radius, suffocating everything in its grasp.
Sanguine Crucible (Tier II Forging) → forge corpses and battlefield remains into new weapons or armor mid-combat.
Noctis tilted his head, fangs glinting in the torchlight.
"Flood for slaughter. Crucible for endurance. Both within reach… but Faith still holds the keys to Shroud and Gaze. I'll need priests' blood before I can pierce their lies."
He dismissed the Grid, crimson glow fading back into his veins. Daggers still hummed at his fingertips, eager to fly.
The cathedral chamber waited. The flock had gathered.
And the wolf now carried blades in his blood.
The dungeon air was thick with incense and ash, heavy with the stench of faith and blood. Noctis stood still, Crimson Eye burning faintly as the Blood Grid shimmered again before him, its lattice alive with pulsing veins.
Two nodes glowed bright in reach:
Blood Flood (Tier II Combat) – 20 Blood
Sanguine Crucible (Tier II Forging) – 20 Blood, 7 Iron
His claws flexed. The choice was simple.
"Steel I can forge from corpses later. But hunger—hunger I must drown them in now."
He touched Blood Flood.
The node ruptured, crimson veins exploding outward and threading into his chest. His veins seared, his heart pounding like a war drum as his field expanded. The very stone beneath his feet pulsed red.
[Skill Unlocked: Blood Flood]Expand your Blood Field into a ten-meter radius. All within are drained of essence and slowed.Cost Paid: –20 BloodEssence Remaining: Blood 11 / Faith 3 / Iron 7
The Grid dimmed, satisfied, as power rippled through him. Noctis exhaled slowly, savoring the taste of it.
He raised a claw, and the air itself quivered. His field unfolded—once a tight circle, now a broad crimson haze that swallowed the hall. The shadows thickened, and he could feel it: every drop of blood in range, every heartbeat trembling under his pull.
A rat scurried from the stone, squealing. Its health bar blinked into view.
Health: 12 / 12 → 0 / 12[Essence Gained: +1 Blood]
The corpse dropped in silence, shriveled into husk and ash. Noctis grinned, eyes glimmering gold-crimson.
"Yes. This is no longer a field. This is a flood."
He dismissed the Grid, the glow collapsing into his veins. His disguise still clung to him—the Veil of Piety flickered faintly, priestly robes draped across his shoulders. The daggers of Crimson Arsenal hummed in his blood, eager to be loosed.
Ahead, the cathedral chamber waited, voices echoing in hymn and fear. Priests chanted desperately. Zealots clashed their weapons to steel their resolve. Survivors gathered for one last stand.
And Noctis walked toward them, the flood already spilling from his body, unseen but ready.
The wolf was coming to the flock.
The cathedral doors creaked shut behind him, drowning the world in a suffocating quiet. The vaulted chamber smelled of iron and incense, a mingling of blood and sanctity that set his teeth on edge. Candles flickered along rows of cracked statues, their wax-dripped halos bending and warping the shadows. At the center of the hall, a congregation knelt before the high altar, their chants low and guttural—an unbroken dirge echoing from stone to bone.
Noctis walked among them in silence. The stolen robes hung heavy over his frame, still damp with another man's blood. Shackles clinked faintly at his wrists, half-hidden in the folds of the fabric. He kept his head bowed, letting his long, tangled hair veil his face. Each step carried him deeper into their ritual circle, deeper into the waiting snare.
The grid shimmered faintly in his mind. Blood Flood pulsed there, a waiting tide he had only glimpsed in thought. Its call was seductive, promising devastation—a storm that would drown the weak and leave none standing. Beneath that, Crimson Arsenal itched to be drawn, each phantom blade hungry for release. He held them back, just a whisper from ignition, his will wound tight as steel wire.
A priest's voice rose above the rest, ragged yet fervent."Tonight the heretic dies. His false line ends, and the Father of Chains is appeased!"
The crowd answered in unison, their cries crashing against the high stone arches. Noctis passed among them like a phantom, the glow of their torches lighting the edge of his jaw, casting his eyes as twin embers beneath the cowl. None looked too closely; all were consumed by their devotion. Still, his skin prickled with the weight of suspicion. At any moment, one might see through the borrowed guise.
He reached the inner ring. The altar loomed ahead, its marble face painted with sigils scrawled in blood. The zealots bowed so low their foreheads smacked the floor, uncaring of the cracks splitting their skin. Behind the altar, a Cardinal robed in crimson lifted a chalice. Black liquid swirled within it, thick as tar, reflecting the candlelight with an oily sheen.
The Cardinal's voice was a hiss and a hymn all at once."Let his blood feed the flood, let his soul bind the chain."
Noctis's fingers twitched beneath the robes. A faint tremor rippled through the congregation—fear not of him, but of their own expectation. They were waiting for the victim, the sacrifice to be dragged in chains. None imagined he was already standing among them.
A woman in the front row turned her head slightly, eyes narrowing at the shadow of his face. The moment stretched. Suspicion. Recognition. A breath too long.
Noctis met her gaze. For an instant, her lips parted to cry alarm.
The flood answered first.
From his feet it spread, a ten-meter haze of living crimson, seeping outward like a rising tide. The air thickened. Torches guttered and died, their flames swallowed by blood-mist. Zealots stiffened mid-bow, their voices caught in throats as the haze coiled into their lungs. The ground itself darkened, veins of red webbing across the marble floor.
Noctis straightened to his full height, casting off the cowl. His eyes glowed with twin infernos—crimson at the rim, gold burning deep within. His fangs caught the candlelight, sharp as the promise of death.
Gasps rippled through the hall. The woman never found her scream.
"Your Father of Chains…" Noctis's voice rolled like thunder through the drowned air, "…will not save you."
The Blood Flood surged.