Revenge (part 1)

Luke's breaths came in ragged gasps as he stood amidst the aftermath of the battle. His dagger dripped with the blood of the last bandit he had felled, a testament to his own contribution to the fight against Vice and his band of marauders. But his attention was quickly drawn to a different spectacle, one that sent shivers down his spine.

The clash between General Elara and Vice had been cataclysmic, a display of power that shook the very earth beneath their feet. Luke could feel the shockwaves of their battle reverberating through the air, each impact a reminder of the incredible strength they both possessed. He watched in awe as the battlefield became a maelstrom of divine fire and necrotic energy, a clash of opposing forces that seemed to defy the laws of nature.

As the dust settled and the echoes of their final clash faded, Luke's gaze fixated on General Elara. She stood victorious, her armor scorched and battered, but her spirit unbroken. She had faced the malevolent blood mage and emerged triumphant, a beacon of justice amidst the chaos.

But even as a sense of satisfaction washed over him, Luke's heart was conflicted. Anger bubbled within him, a simmering frustration that he hadn't been the one to deliver the final blow to Vice. He bit his lip, his fists clenched at his sides, the emotions within him warring for dominance. He had yearned for vengeance, for the chance to personally bring down the man who had caused so much pain. And yet, that opportunity had been stolen from him.

Amidst his turmoil, Luke's senses remained sharp. He observed as the bandits and corrupt guards who had been connected to Vice through his blood buff skill began to falter, their strength waning as the connection was severed. It was a relief to see their reign of terror coming to an end, but Luke's attention was abruptly diverted.

His keen eyes caught a glimpse of movement, a shadowy figure retreating from the battlefield and disappearing into the city. Luke's heart raced as he realized that not everything was as it seemed. There was more to this battle, more to Vice's actions, than he had initially thought. His gut churned with a mixture of disgust and determination. Whoever that figure was, they were connected to Vice's malevolence, and Luke was determined to unveil the truth.

Without hesitation, Luke made his decision. He couldn't let this shadowy figure slip away into the city unnoticed. With a determined glint in his eyes, he followed the figure's path, weaving through the chaos of the battlefield and into the city beyond. The streets were still, a stark contrast to the battle that had raged just moments before.

Luke's footsteps were quiet and purposeful as he navigated the city's winding paths. His instincts guided him, leading him closer to the figure he pursued. His mind raced with questions—Who was this person? What was their connection to Vice? And most importantly, what dark secrets did they hold?

As he neared the outskirts of the city, Luke's pace quickened. He could sense that the figure was growing increasingly aware of his pursuit, their movements becoming more frantic. With a burst of determination, Luke pushed forward, his senses honed to a razor's edge.

He followed the figure through the city's streets, a silent pursuer in pursuit of the unknown. The figure slipped into the forest at the edge of the city, disappearing into the verdant depths. Luke's steps quickened, his determination unyielding as he pressed forward.

The forest welcomed him with its hushed whispers and dappling sunlight. Luke moved through the underbrush, his senses attuned to the figure ahead. And then, through a gap in the trees, he caught sight of the figure once more. It stood at the edge of a sunlit glade, its form tense and ready.

"Come out, rat!" The figure's voice was laced with arrogance and annoyance. "If you've got a death wish, show yourself!"

Luke's breath caught, his heart pounding as he stepped into the glade. His eyes narrowed as he locked onto the figure, his anger bubbling to the surface. And then, as the sunlight revealed the features of the figure, Luke's eyes widened in disbelief and fury. It couldn't be. It shouldn't be. Yet, there stood Vice—the embodiment of the darkness that had plagued the kingdom.

Vice's lips curled into a sinister smile, his eyes gleaming with malevolent amusement. "Ah, the little puppy with a bark louder than its bite. How amusing."

Luke's anger surged, his grip on his dagger tightening. "You should be dead. How—"Luke's voice trembled with a mix of rage and disbelief. He had witnessed the clash between Vice and General Elara, had seen the cataclysmic power they had unleashed upon each other. And yet, here Vice stood, seemingly unscathed.

Vice's laughter cut through the air, grating on Luke's nerves. "Survival, my dear boy. A skill that has served me well."

Luke's anger transformed into burning determination. "You're a coward, You caused so much suffering, so much death. And you dare to Run from the fight."

Vice's expression shifted, his amusement fading. "Running, yes. But not from you, little puppy."

Luke's grip on his dagger remained unwavering. "fine then, I will finish what should have been done."

Vice's gaze met Luke's, his smile giving way to a more serious demeanor. "Very well. If you're so eager to meet your end, who am I to deny you?"

With a swift, fluid motion, Vice's bloodstained hand shot forward. Luke's eyes widened as he watched a short sword materialize, the weapon formed from Vice's own blood. It was a grotesque display of power, a testament to Vice's mastery over his [blood mold] skill.

Luke's resolve solidified, his anger fueling his actions. He raised his dagger, his stance battle-ready, and approached Vice with determined steps. The glade seemed to shrink around them, the weight of their confrontation heavy in the air.

And then, in an instant, their clash began. Luke lunged forward, his dagger a blur of motion as he unleashed a flurry of strikes. Vice met each attack with calculated precision, his movements fluid and evasive. The clash of steel rang through the glade as their weapons met in a dance of danger and skill.

Vice's mocking laughter filled the air, his movements taunting and calculated. "Is this the best you've got, little puppy?"

Luke's anger found an unexpected ally. He felt a surge of power deep within him, a familiar presence that had aided him in battles before. With a focused thought, he activated his [Shadow Reflection] skill, summoning forth his shadowy minion from the depths of his own shadow. The figure emerged behind Luke, its form shrouded in darkness. Its eyes glowed with an otherworldly light as it prepared to move in tandem with Luke.

Vice's expression shifted as he caught sight of the shadowy companion, his arrogance giving way to surprise.

"Ah, a desperate trick," Vice remarked, his eyes narrowing. "A fight of desperation should indeed have surprising elements."

Vice's form emanated a thick crimson essence. It was as though the very essence of blood had wrapped itself around him, intertwining with the crimson currents that flowed within his veins. The air around him grew heavy with a palpable sense of foreboding, his power surging to the surface with an unsettling intensity.

"COME, PUPPY! LET'S END THIS!"