Tobias rolled off the silk sheets and onto the carpet. Calming himself, he spat out a mouthful blood onto the floor and looked up at Kurt, opening his fox-shaped eyes that burned with predatory intellect.

"Haha, Kurt Rosanna." Tobias chuckled, slowly backing up and reaching for his black dagger. "So nice to see you again. I must say, meeting you here was certainly the last thing I would have expected."

"Oh, I bet it was."

Kurt reached into his belt and slid on a pair of heavy brass knuckles, clicking the mechanism on the side. With a sharp shink, the switchblades erupted from the front of the knuckles, shimmering with deadly intent.

"But I’m not here for any pleasantries, Tobias. I’m here to put you down." Kurt said as his Mana Coating flared to life. "Now die."

Shooting himself forward with the explosive power of a coiled spring, his fist whistled toward Tobias’s jaw. Tobias, despite his age, moved with a fluid, unnatural speed. He ducked the blow and lashed out with the black dagger, aiming for Kurt’s throat.

Kurt pivoted on his heel, using the momentum to swing a heavy wooden chair into the bishop’s path. Tobias caught the chair with his free hand. His veins began to bulge, turning a bruised black colour. With a roar of effort, he crushed the solid wood into splinters.

"... What the hell is wrong with your body? You look even creepier than before."

"Hahaha, this? This is Divinity! Blood Magic magic in its purest form."

"Blood magic? Is that what you’ve been doing with those innocent children? Draining their blood for your own selfish means and giving their hearts to that purple-haired bitch?"

"So you know that much? That saves me the explanation. Tell me, Rosanna. What is the life of a few dozen peasants compared to the birth of a deity?"

"It’s more than your life is worth," Kurt retorted.

He lunged again, but this time it wasn’t a punch. He grabbed the golden silk curtains and yanked them downward. The iron rod snapped, and the massive fabric collapsed over Tobias like a net. Kurt followed up with a barrage of stabs through the fabric, his blades tearing through.

"Grrr! Stop that!" Tobias let out a guttural growl.

A burst of crimson energy erupted from beneath the curtains, shredding the silk into confetti. He emerged, his skin now a pale, deathly grey, his strength tripled by the cursed blood flowing through his veins. He tackled Kurt, slamming them both into a marble-topped vanity.

"You keep this shit in your bedroom!? So, you’re one of those types, huh?!" Kurt mocked as he reached for anything his hand could find.

Perfume bottles shattered. Mirrors cracked. The room was quickly becoming a ruin of high-end decor and low-end violence.

Tobias pinned Kurt against the wall, the black dagger inches from Kurt’s remaining eye. "I can smell the desperate mana on you, boy. You’re burning yourself dry just to keep up with me."

"You’re imagining things, old man."

Kurt slammed down his foot on Tobias’, stunning him for a moment. This gave him just enough room for an inward knee strike on the bishop’s sternum to break the hold. As the bishop staggered, Kurt grabbed an iron fire poker from the hearth and swung it like a mace. The iron whistled through the air, catching Tobias in the shoulder with a bone crushing crack.

Tobias fell back, his blood magic instantly beginning to knit the wound together, the black veins pulsing faster. "Is that all? I’ve been whipped by better men than you for far less!"

"Whoa. T.M.I. If that’s the case, then let’s try something heavier."

He kicked the heavy oak nightstand into Tobias’s shins, following up with two quick strikes to the bishop’s face and jaw. As the fight continued on, Kurt used anything and everything he could find. He destroyed furniture, opened a closet and used a belt to lash at the bishop’s eyes, and even shattered a floor lamp to use the jagged base as a secondary spear.

But he wasn’t being willy-nilly. He was looking for something.

Tobias, on the other hand, was relentless. He used his dagger not just to cut, but as a focus for his magic. He flicked his wrist, and droplets of his own blood became hardened needles, dying Kurt’s clothes and drawing thin lines of red across his cheeks.

"You’re nothing, Rossana!" Tobias laughed, his voice sounding more demonic with every passing second. "And I am the one who is loved the most by our dear Mother!"

They eventually collided in the center of the room; their arms locked in a desperate struggle for dominance. Kurt’s brass-knuckle blades were pressed against the flat of Tobias’s obsidian dagger, the two metals screeching as they ground together. They were near chest-to-chest, breathing each other’s sweat and fury.

"Give up," Tobias hissed, his face inches from Kurt’s. "You think this noise will go by unnoticed? The fortress is surely alerted by now. My brothers are coming. You’ll die in this room, and I’ll use your heart to restart Violet’s collection."

"Hahaha. Really?"

"What’s so funny? Is the thought of death so amusing to you?"

"Nope. I just love dramatic irony. Also, you talk too much for a man about to die."

Just then, the sound of heavy boots echoed from the hallway outside.

’Dang. That’s what I get for sneaking and not killing on sight.’

"To the bishop’s chambers!" a voice roared. "Hurry! Protect our leader, Bishop Tobias!"

Kurt’s eye flicked toward the door, then back to Tobias. He had seconds.

"Sounds like your fan club is here. Too bad they’re going to be late for the funeral."

Kurt didn’t try to push Tobias away. Instead, he leaned into the pressure and used a quick-witted martial arts technique. He suddenly dropped in his center of gravity while simultaneously hooking his foot behind Tobias’s ankle. He slammed his forehead into Tobias’s nose, the bone shattering with a satisfying crunch, and then used the bishop’s own weight to pivot them both.

With a roar of channeled mana, Kurt jumped and unleashed a double-footed drop kick into Tobias’s chest, propelling them both backward. However, right as Kurt’s foot connected, Tobias grabbed a tight hold on it and flew backwards towards the sliding glass panel.

SHATTER!!!

The glass exploded. Kurt and Tobias plummeted through the frame, glass shards raining down around them like diamonds.

Tobias, realising he was falling toward and off the stone balcony, reached out with a desperate, claw-like grip. He grabbed the back of Kurt’s ankle, digging his fingers deep into the skin.

"If I’m going down... You’re coming with me!"

"Let go, Godammit!" Kurt tried kicking but Tobias’ pull was too strong.

And so, they fell.

They slammed into the wet, cold stone of the outdoor landing together, rolling through the puddles and the mud that had washed up from the garden. The heavy rain instantly assaulted them, soaking their clothes and cooling the heat of the fight.

Tobias scrambled to his feet; his gown tangled around his legs. He ripped the sodden fabric away with a snarl, tossing the ruined garment into the wind. He stood there in his black-silked trousers, greyed skin and eyes that glowed red in the darkness. The glass shards in his scalp were washed clean by the rain, leaving dozens of small, weeping wounds.

He looked around but saw no other body. Then, to the balcony, but the landing was empty. The only sound was the drumming of the rain and the howling wind. Kurt was gone. Vanished into the shadows of the estate walls or the darkness of the garden below

"Rossana! Show yourself, coward!"

"""Father!"""

Four cultists burst through the shattered glass panel, their black-and-red robes waving in the storm. They held heavy maces and crossbows, their faces pale with shock as they saw the state of their leader.

"He’s here!" Tobias pointed a shaking finger toward the darkness of the garden. "The one who killed Brother Arlo! He’s wounded! He’s near! Search the perimeter! I want his head on my dinner tray by midnight!"

The four cultists didn’t hesitate. They leaped over the railing and descended into the dark to hunt the man who had dared kill their own.

Tobias stood on the landing and watched carefully as the rain washed the wine and blood from his face. He gripped his dagger so hard his knuckles turned white. "You think the rain is your ally, boy?" he whispered into the dark. "I am the one who bled this land. I am the future of our Brotherhood. You will not escape me."

Deep in the shadows of a massive oak tree below, Kurt stalked from a crouch, his hand pressed against a gash in his side and his blades extended on brass knuckles. He watched as black-cloaked figures scattered around the garden with a predatory glint in his eye, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

"How many fools can I kill today♪ Too many to count, don’t get in my way♪"