In the next moment, I approach the fallen sword, my footsteps purposeful and steady. As I reach down to grasp it, a vibrant glow emanates from the hilt, bathing my hands in a pulsating light. The sword trembles in my grip, resonating with a power that seems to recognize me.
ραΠdαsΝοvεl ƈοm
Roth and Avril descends gracefully to the ground beside me. Roth’s gaze lingers on the sword, curiosity etched upon his features. “Why did you collect his sword?” he asks, his voice filled with intrigue.
“Because it’s mine,” I reply, a flicker of seriousness in my eyes. I offer no further explanation, my attention shifting toward Zamira, who stands nearby.
“Good job, wifey,” I say to her with a small smile, acknowledging her resilience and strength. Walking past her, I stop in front of the motionless figure of Zero, who lies on the ground, still unconscious.
Raising my foot, I bring it down with a swift motion, crushing his head beneath my heel. The sound of bones cracking fills the air as his skull caves under the pressure, reducing it to a grotesque mess.
“Bastard didn’t even live up to my expectations,” I mutter, shaking my head in mild disappointment. The battle may have been fierce, but Zero’s performance fell short of the mark.
Zamira’s voice cuts through the air, her tone tinged with a mix of gratitude and correction. “You are wrong, Jake. The truth is, he was stronger than me. If it weren’t for the hint you gave me, I might not have survived.”
I pause, considering her words. The weight of her revelation sinks in, altering my perception of the battle’s outcome. I nod, acknowledging the truth in her statement. “I see…” I respond quietly.
“Why did you tell me to capture him though since you were going to kill him either way?” Zamira inquires, her confusion evident as she questions my actions.
“Well, I wanted to kill him myself,” I reply with a mischievous grin, my eyes reflecting the thrill of the impending confrontation.
In the aftermath of the intense battle, the atmosphere is heavy with the weight of loss and sacrifice. As I turn my attention to Roth and Avril, their faces bear the marks of exhaustion. Only the four of us remain now.
“There are only the four of us left, huh,” I mutter, the gravity of the situation settling upon us. Avril and Roth nod in solemn agreement, their expressions tinged with weariness.
“Yeah, what else…?” Roth mumbles, the weight of our fallen comrades pressing upon him.
“What else, huh…” I trail off, my mind grappling with the consequences of our choices. There is no escape from the reality before us, and I realize that the path to victory may demand even greater sacrifices.
Suddenly, a surge of determination surges within me. With a decisive gesture, I raise my hand in the air, forming the shape of a gun with my fingers. Roth and Avril’s eyes widen in shock, realizing my intent. They move to dash towards me, but it is too late.
In an instant, a burst of aura erupts from my hand, manifesting into crimson bullets that pierce through their heads. Their bodies freeze, impaled by my blood bullets, before falling to the ground, their forms slowly disintegrating into dust.
“Bastard…” Roth mutters, a faint smile gracing his lips as he acknowledges the inevitable end. His body dissipates into the air, leaving behind only memories of our shared battles.
“That was unexpected… But they should have known,” Zamira says quietly, her gaze steady as she observes me. “Since we are not on the same team, they would have to put up a fight.”
I nod in agreement, acknowledging the bittersweet truth of our situation. We all knew the risks, the delicate dance of allegiances and alliances that could crumble in the face of conflicting objectives.
“Is that so…?” I ask, a sly smile curling on my lips. My actions have caught Zamira off guard, her expression a mixture of confusion and concern.
“Jake, what’s that expre–” Before she can finish her sentence, a sudden burst of energy erupts from my hand, impaling Zamira’s head. Time seems to slow as her body freezes, her eyes locked onto mine in shock.
“W-Why? I thought we were comrades, we are on the same team…” she utters weakly as her form begins to disintegrate into fine dust.
As Zamira disintegrates, a feeling of emptiness swirls inside me. It’s as if a void has opened up within, and I am left questioning the path I have chosen. I have grown immensely powerful, capable of defeating almost any vampire that crosses my path. Yet, the emptiness remains, haunting my thoughts.
I haven’t even regained all my powers, and yet this sense of emptiness plagues me. Perhaps it’s not just about physical strength. Maybe there’s something deeper, something intangible that I am missing.
The thoughts churn in my mind as I consider my next move. There are still many powerful beings out there, challenges that await me beyond the realm of vampires. Fully-evolved Demon-rank beasts, Deity-rank beasts, dragonkins, Balors, Asuras, and formidable humans and Dhampirs beckon me. Perhaps it’s time to seek out new adversaries and test my mettle against these formidable foes.
With a heavy sigh, I contemplate my uncertain path. The world around me starts to crumble and shift, transforming into the familiar arena where the tournament began. However, something is different this time. Instead of being in the arena, we find ourselves inside a glass room situated adjacent to the battlefield, just like before the tournament commenced.
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