Isolde’s breath caught in her throat. Her voice came out sharp, trembling with disbelief. "Why does he sound like him?!"

Adam didn’t have time to respond. His hands were already moving, dark energy gathering in his palms. "[Abyssal Pierce]!" The void-empowered projectile shot toward Vladislav’s chest.

The vampire lord didn’t even look at it. His form dissolved into a swirl of crimson mist, the attack passing through empty air. He reformed several feet to the left, his eyes fixed on Adam with cold amusement.

"[Prismatic Beam]!" Adam shifted tactics, a lance of rainbow light erupting from his palm. Vladislav moved again, faster this time, his body blurring as he sidestepped the beam with millimeters to spare. The light carved a smoking trench in the stone wall behind him.

"[Shadow Lance]!" Adam fired again, then again, a rapid barrage of dark projectiles filling the chamber. Vladislav weaved between them like smoke, his movements almost lazy, as if the attack was merely an annoyance rather than a threat.

Adam’s fists clenched at his sides. ’He’s too fast. I can’t land a clean hit.’

Lilith stepped forward, Soulreaver materializing in her grip. "Allow me."

She didn’t swing the blade. Instead, her fingers curled, and the sword dissolved, breaking apart into a dozen gleaming fragments that hovered in the air around her, each one connected to her fingers by nearly invisible threads.

Vladislav’s crimson eyes tracked the fragments, his expression unchanging. "Clever."

Lilith’s smile was serene, but her crimson eyes gleamed with malice. "I haven’t even started."

Her hand swept forward, and the fragments shot toward Vladislav from every angle. He dodged the first three, twisted away from the next five, but the eleventh and twelfth struck home—one slicing across his shoulder, the other burying itself in his thigh.

Black ichor sprayed. Vladislav’s form flickered, just for an instant.

Lilith’s threads pulled taut, the fragments retracting, readying for another strike. "Now this," she said, her crimson eyes gleaming, "is what true threads can do."

Vladislav’s crimson eyes swept over the ichor staining his coat, his expression unchanged. "Still not enough to kill me."

Adam pressed the attack without hesitation. His fist, wreathed in dark energy, slammed toward the vampire’s chest. Vladislav caught it. His pale fingers wrapped around Adam’s wrist and the Progenitor felt his momentum halt mid-strike.

"Blood Dominion: Scarlet Onslaught."

The words were soft, almost gentle.

The chamber turned red. Blood erupted from the walls, the floor, the ceiling, pouring from every crack in the ancient stone. It rose in waves, thick and suffocating, swallowing the amber glow of the runes, drowning the light.

Adam’s eyes widened. He tried to pull back, but Vladislav’s grip held. "Lilith! Ignis!"

Lilith’s threads snapped toward the rising tide, trying to push it back, but the blood was too thick. It coiled around her ankles, her wrists, pulling her down. Isolde’s own blood rose in answer, trying to shield her, but the vampire lord’s power was overwhelming, it pressed against her defenses like a collapsing star.

Ignis’s flames blazed brighter.

"[Dragon’s Will: Solar Nova]!"

She didn’t aim for Vladislav. She aimed for the blood itself. Fire erupted from her jaws, white-hot and blinding, a star born in the throat of a dragon. The flames met the crimson tide, and steam exploded between them—hissing, shrieking, a wall of vapor that filled the chamber.

The blood boiled.

It evaporated where the fire touched, the crimson tide retreating, shrinking, as Ignis’s flames pushed it back. Vladislav’s form flickered, the manifestation struggling to maintain its shape as the heat consumed the blood that sustained it.

Isolde didn’t waste the opening. Her hands shot forward, blood erupting from her palms in twin streams that joined together, spiraling into a sphere of crimson that pulsed with growing heat.

"[Blood Dominion: Crimson Sun]!"

The sphere blazed, turning from red to orange to white-hot as she poured her rage into it. The heat was immense, warping the air around it, and she hurled it directly at Vladislav’s chest.

The vampire lord had no time to dodge. The blazing sphere struck him, and his form convulsed as the heat seared through his borrowed flesh. Black ichor bubbled from cracks in his skin, evaporating before it could drip. His mouth opened, but no sound came out. He simply burned.

Ignis watched the flames consume him, her golden eyes wide. "That was easy... Are we done already?"

Isolde’s chest heaved, her blood retreating back into her body, the crimson sun fading into wisps of steam. Her voice came out quiet, shaken, barely a whisper. "Did we... did we win? Against my father? I don’t..."

Her words died in her throat.

The flames flickered.

And then they moved.

The fire that had been consuming Vladislav didn’t extinguish. It bent. It twisted. It flowed toward him, wrapping around his body like a second skin, feeding into his wounds instead of burning them. The black ichor that had bubbled from his flesh reversed course, sinking back into his skin, and the burns sealed themselves, leaving behind smooth, pale flesh.

The fire subsided, revealing Vladislav’s form whole and unmarred.

He raised a hand, and the blood that had spilled during the battle rose from the stone, answering his call. It spiraled around him, weaving into a cloak of crimson that settled over his shoulders like a mantle of royalty.

And above his brow, a crown materialized.

It was like Isolde’s crown of thorns, but darker, more ancient. The thorns were thicker, curled into cruel barbs, and they pulsed with a deep, blood-red light that seemed to drink the amber glow from the walls. It sat upon Vladislav’s brow like it had always been there, like it was part of him.

Adam’s eyes widened. "Oi, oi... You’ve got to be kidding me."

Vladislav’s crimson gaze swept over them, lingering on Isolde. When he spoke, his voice was cold and soft, carrying the weight of ages.

"I thought it was merely my imagination," he said, "but it seems I was right. That level of blood manipulation... I’ve only ever known one other who could wield it like that."

His lips curved into a hollow expression that was not quite a smile. 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

"My daughter. I expected more from my own blood. After all these years... you’re still this weak?"