Thirteen's third eye narrowed for a split second before his sword whirled in a perfect circular motion. The blade of black steel roared briefly as it tore through the air, flinging Lucian's still-warm blood onto the ground. The red droplets evaporated as soon as they touched the barren earth, leaving behind a trail of bluish smoke as if the earth itself rejected their presence. "That's the problem," he hissed, the raspy voice coming from between clenched teeth. His jaw muscles hardened like tempered steel, holding back the throbbing pain from the burn that spread across his shoulder. "I don't intend to give a second chance"
The last sentence was cut short by the electrical hum that buzzed in his ears.
"Krak!!"
Lucian shot out like a meteor ripped from the sky. The remaining electrical energy in his body exploded in a bluish-white glow, incinerating the spot where he had stood. His entire body was now just a faint, glowing silhouette, streaks of purple light blazing, forming a trail after the afterimage in the air. The air cracked behind him, leaving a trail of ozone that stung his nose.
"Thunder Onslought!!"
The sky seemed to split. Twenty? Thirty? It was impossible to count the number of lightning strikes that struck from his sword. Each strike formed a grid of fierce energy that tore through the earth, burning oxygen until the dust around them melted into black crystals. Thirteen's hair whipped in the hot wind, his skin blistered by electrical radiation, but his feet remained firmly planted. In the midst of the storm of chaos, his eyes caught the pattern: each of Lucian's attacks was getting shorter, his lightning flashes dimmer. He was burning the rest of his life.
Thirteen sighed. His breath suddenly calmed.
Then…
His little finger touched the hilt of the second sword tucked into his back.
"Nighfall Requiem."
The world changed in an instant.
The light vanished as if swallowed by an endless abyss. Lucian's lightning flashes that had filled the air with a bluish-purple glow were now extinguished, sucked into a cold, lifeless void. Even sound died—no wind rustled, no dust whispered, only the silence that pressed like a giant tombstone.
Lucian stopped moving. His breath caught in his throat. His eyes, which could normally catch the slightest movement, now only saw pitch black. No shadows, no shapes, only the nothingness that enveloped him. It felt like being trapped between the world and nothingness, where time and space lost their meaning.
Then—
"Ssshh!"
"Ssshh!"
Wounds began to appear on his body. Thin lines that split the skin, as if drawn by an invisible knife. Blood flowed slowly, warm and thick, dripping onto the now invisible ground. Lucian tried to move his hand, tried to summon the rest of his lightning energy, but his body didn't respond. His muscles felt frozen, as if locked by the darkness itself.
"Argh…!" His growl was muffled, like a sound trapped in a vacuum.
And then, in the midst of the darkness, he saw it, a pair of eyes that glowed faintly, like embers about to die. The eyes did not blink, did not move, they just stared at him with a bone-chilling coldness.
Then…
"Death Piercer!"
A sword pierced his chest with deadly precision.
"Bzzzzt!"
The remaining electrical energy in Lucian's body exploded in a brief spark, trying to resist, but the attack was too late. The sword pierced his heart, destroying his last defense. The electricity that flowed wildly from his body was only the last flicker before it went out.
Thirteen pulled out his sword with a steady motion. The black steel blade came out with a wet sound, releasing a spurt of blood that warmed the cold air. Lucian staggered back, his knees trembling before finally bending. His hand clutched his chest, trying to stop the flow of blood that continued to pour out, but in vain.
"You…" His voice was weak, almost inaudible, like the wind whispering among ruins.
Thirteen stood tall, his sword still dripping Lucian's blood. His cold eyes stared mercilessly, without regret. "It's finally over," he said, his voice flat.
Lucian gritted his teeth, trying to hold back the pain that spread throughout his body. But then, amidst his gasping breaths, his lips stretched into a faint smile. A smile full of meaning, not defeat, but acceptance.
"...Good."
Lucian's body collapsed to the ground with a heavy thud, like a giant tree that had fallen after centuries of standing tall. Blood pooled around him, forming a red pool that slowly seeped into the ground. The flashes of lightning that had enveloped his body, the energy that had once made him like a god of war, now faded one by one. The bluish-purple glow flickered weakly before finally extinguishing, leaving a silent darkness.
Lucian… was dead.
Thirteen stood over his body. His black sword was still dripping blood, each drop creating a small ripple in the red pool beneath him. But this victory was not cheap, he felt every wound on his body like a burning fire. The burns from Lucian's remaining lightning still stung, while the stab wound in his waist oozed fresh blood that slowly weakened him.
His breath grew heavier, each breath felt like it was piercing his lungs. He tried to hold himself back, but his body finally gave in. His knees buckled, falling to the ground with a dusty sound. Fresh blood flowed from the corner of his mouth, dripping onto the ground and mixing with Lucian's blood.
He looked at his trembling left hand, seeing the blood that stained his palm. "Heh…" The short sound came from his mouth, half-held back, half-mocking. "You really… made me work hard."
Meanwhile, elsewhere
The thick purple mist was not just smoke, it was alive. Each strand hissed softly, slipping into the pores of the skin like venomous snakes seeking the warmth of blood. This battlefield had turned into a labyrinth of poison, where the air itself was the enemy. In the midst of it, Thirty-Seven darted like a phantom. His body barely touched the ground, each step leaving a trail of mist that split momentarily before merging back together. Only the flashes of purple light from the reaction of the poison in the air occasionally revealed his figure: a black combat jacket damp with poison, sharp eyes squinting behind his mask.
In the center of the poison storm, Selene stood like a queen ruling her own small universe. Her black dress, like a manifestation of the mist itself, billowed, its edges glowing green from the reaction of the deadly substance she emanated. Her pale fingers danced softly, directing the flow of poison as if playing a deadly symphony. "I can feel your heartbeat… slowing," she whispered, her voice echoing from all directions, as if the mist was her vocal cords. Her purplish lips stretched into a smile that made the hairs on the back of one's neck stand on end. "Like music… that's getting softer…"
Thirty-Seven clenched his teeth. The poison had crept into his veins, he could feel its coldness spreading from his fingertips. But his eyes remained focused. Behind his mask, his breath was regulated: four seconds inhale, six seconds exhale. His body crouched behind the rubble, feeling the vibration of the poison surrounding Selene. He just needed one opening. One moment where Selene's defenses.
"Shadow Ripper!"
His body split into six shadowy silhouettes, each launching from a different angle. Not an illusion, each silhouette was a real attack ripped from his dark soul. His claws glowed dark purple, leaving streaks of light in the poisonous air like devil's claws tearing through dimensions. The air hissed, crushed by their speed, the mist split into straight lines towards Selene's heart.
But the woman just raised an eyebrow. "Venomous Dome."
Her finger moved.
"Wuuush!"
The mist, which had been static, suddenly spun wildly. The poison crystallized into thousands of microscopic needles, forming a protective dome that pulsed like a living organism. Thirty-Seven's shadowy silhouettes that touched the dome were instantly eroded, flesh evaporated, bones crushed to black dust. The real Thirty-Seven managed to jump back, but…
"Ssshhh!"
A poison needle larger than a thorn slipped past his arm. The wound on his arm was only the size of a needle prick, but in less than 1 second, the skin around it turned black as if burned. His veins bulged green, spreading from his arm to his neck. His breath hitched. The blood in his mouth tasted metallic mixed with bitterness.
Selene stepped closer, her dress sweeping across the poison-scorched ground. "You think shadows can fool poison?" she laughed coldly, her index finger gathering the mist into a pulsating green ball. "Poison… is in your breath. In your sweat. In the fear you hide behind those techniques."
Thirty-Seven collapsed to one knee. His hand gripped his infected arm, his veins already black like the roots of an old tree. But his eyes still burned. Behind the pain, his mind worked quickly, "His poison reacts with oxygen… If I could create a vacuum…"