Evolution

The air trembled as the four Radiant-rankers unleashed their Domains, twisting the space-time axis into something unrecognizable. The world around them shifted, isolating their battlefield from everyone else. Within this warped reality, the lines of power were drawn, the stakes clear.

Martial King Magnus Draykar faced the towering presence of the Vampire Monarch, Caladros von Noctis. The weight of the Monarch's aura pressed against the very fabric of existence, a challenge that Magnus answered with the silent hum of his astral-infused blade.

Twilight Ice Sovereign Selene Kagu stood across from the Crimson Dancer, Alyssara Velcroix. Their gazes locked, the tension between them palpable.

Selene's God's Eyes shimmered, a faint, cold glow as they worked to analyze her opponent. In that moment, the realization struck her like a thunderclap.

She was outmatched.

Selene Kagu, though at the peak of low Radiant-rank, could feel the overwhelming power radiating from Alyssara. The Crimson Dancer wasn't just formidable—she was near the bottom of mid Radiant-rank, a clear gulf between them in both strength and control.

Alyssara tilted her head slightly, her cyan-green eyes glimmering with something unsettling. "Let's not fight," she said, her voice smooth, almost musical.

Selene's eyes narrowed, her breath steady despite the chill of unease creeping down her spine. Her grip on her glaive tightened, the frost-coated weapon gleaming in the strange light of their isolated domain.

"And why," Selene asked coldly, her voice cutting through the tension like a shard of ice, "would I agree to that?"

Alyssara's lips curled into a smirk, her demeanor casual, though her every movement was calculated. She stretched her arms languidly, as though they weren't standing on the precipice of a battle that could decide the fate of nations. Her crimson threads wove around her, coiling and uncoiling like living serpents.

"Because," Alyssara said, "we both know how this ends. You'll fight valiantly, I'm sure. You'll even make it interesting, which I'll admit is more than most could manage. But ultimately…" She leaned forward, her smile widening, revealing a glint of teeth that were far too sharp. "You'll lose."

Selene's grip on her glaive remained steady, but her heart quickened. The sheer confidence in Alyssara's voice wasn't arrogance—it was truth. Cold, unyielding truth.

"I'm not here to entertain you," Selene replied, her God's Eyes flaring brighter, ice beginning to crystallize around her feet. The air grew heavy, frost spreading across the distorted ground as her Domain shifted, filling with the biting chill of twilight.

Alyssara sighed dramatically, the threads around her whipping through the air like crimson lightning. "Ah, so stubborn. It's charming, really." She twirled a finger lazily, and one of her threads lashed out, slicing through the icy mist with unnatural precision.

Selene didn't flinch. Her glaive moved like an extension of her body, intercepting the crimson thread with a crackling surge of freezing energy. The collision sent shockwaves rippling through the distorted space, shattering the silence with a sharp, resonant burst.

The frost-laden mist swirled around Selene, encasing the ground in shimmering ice. She kept her eyes on Alyssara, her mind racing. This woman was too close in power to Magnus Draykar, and that comparison brought back bitter memories. Selene had fought the Martial King once before and had lost, decisively. And though years had passed since then, she knew, deep down, that she hadn't truly grown stronger. The cold truth gnawed at her resolve.

The current her would lose. And losing now wasn't an option.

"If you're worried about respect or appearances, don't be," Alyssara said, her tone almost teasing as her pink hair fluttered in the warped air. "We can put on a good show for everyone else. Pretend we're locked in combat while we, you know, take a break. It'll be our little secret."

Selene's grip on her glaive tightened as she studied Alyssara. The pink-haired woman's demeanor was maddeningly casual, as though she already knew the outcome and had decided it wasn't worth the effort. Yet, there was something unsettlingly genuine in her suggestion. 

Finally, Selene gave a slow, reluctant nod. Her God's Eyes remained fixed on Alyssara, watching her every move as the Crimson Dancer gracefully settled into a cross-legged position on the fractured ground.

Alyssara's smirk deepened as she folded her legs beneath her, her posture radiating confidence. For a moment, she seemed to forget the battle entirely, her cyan-green eyes growing distant.

Memories—fragments of something both familiar and alien—flitted through her mind like the remnants of a dream upon waking. She replayed them again and again, trying to piece them together. The face that lingered in her thoughts was unmistakable. Arthur.

Not the Arthur who stood in this fractured battlefield, but someone different. And yet… the same. 

Her lips curled into a quiet smile, an expression that didn't belong on the face of someone so steeped in violence. She couldn't explain it yet, but the sensation was undeniable. She didn't need to. Not now.

"I'll understand it soon enough," she murmured, her voice barely audible over the humming energy of their domain. "My Arthur."

Her mind brushed against the bond she had forged with the Vampire Monarch, the contract that granted her mastery over blood magic. It was a tether, one that had bolstered her rise to power—but it had grown stifling, a chain she no longer wished to bear.

'How tedious,' she thought, her smile fading as disdain replaced it. 

The Vampire Monarch, Caladros von Noctis, was stronger than her. That much she conceded. But even his power was constrained, hemmed in by the same limitations that bound all who clung to the old ways of their kind. He ruled from within the rigid framework of what he had been. Alyssara sought something greater.

She couldn't simply sever the contract—it wasn't in her nature to discard something so useful. No, she would do what she always did: take. 

Absorption, not dissolution. She would consume the bond, drawing in every fragment of power the Vampire Monarch had tied to her. The blood magic that coursed through her veins would no longer carry the taint of subservience. It would be hers alone.

The air around her grew heavier as the first threads of the contract began to unravel. Alyssara felt it—the pushback, the resistance, as the Vampire Monarch's will surged against hers. He wasn't one to let go of his tools lightly.

But Alyssara smiled, her threads coiling tighter around her as her astral energy swirled with crimson brilliance. 

"Not yours anymore," she whispered, her voice dripping with a dark promise. "Mine." 

For a brief moment, Selene's God's Eyes flickered, sensing the disturbance in Alyssara's aura. She turned her gaze toward her opponent, her caution sharpening to alarm. But Alyssara didn't move. She remained seated, her face serene, her hands resting lightly in her lap.

Selene could only watch as Alyssara's aura twisted and writhed, a crimson hurricane of power that churned through the air. It wasn't just the magnitude of it that made the atmosphere tremble—it was the quality, the unmistakable sense of something breaking its chains. Something transforming. The world itself seemed to shudder in anticipation of what Alyssara was becoming.

Breaking a contract like this was nearly impossible. To absorb one? That bordered on the unthinkable. The contract tethered Alyssara to the Vampire Monarch, Caladros von Noctis, a being of mid Radiant-rank and the most formidable vampire alive. It wasn't just a bond of power—it was a cage, reinforced by the will of one far stronger than her.

But Alyssara didn't care for impossibilities. She had no time for cages.

The contract's power wasn't resisting her as much as it should. No, it couldn't—not when Caladros was locked in battle with Magnus Draykar. The clash of titans, the duel that warped the very fabric of space-time, demanded the Monarch's full attention. Alyssara smirked at the thought. Let him duel the Martial King. Let his will falter for even a moment. That was all she needed.

Threads of scarlet light spun around her like a cocoon, weaving tighter and tighter as she pulled at the bond, unraveling it strand by strand. She could feel the pulse of the Vampire Monarch's power, the lifeblood of his magic coursing through her. It resisted her with every beat, but the more it fought, the more she consumed.

Alyssara's focus didn't waver. This wasn't merely about freedom. This was evolution.

She knew the truth.

Even as she stood now, a force beyond most comprehension, she wasn't enough. Not yet. Arthur, despite his youth and current limitations, carried a potential that dwarfed her own. She had seen it, felt it in every clash of his blade, in the raw fire of his will. Arthur would one day surpass even the greatest Radiant-rankers. He would rise to heights she could only dream of.

And the current her? She would never reach those heights. Her path, as it stood, would never lead to the peak. 

But that was fine. Alyssara had no intention of staying as she was.

If she were to truly love him—possess him—she needed to be more. She needed to become something greater. 

The vampiric blood Caladros had planted in her body to enforce his will was her key. What he had meant as a shackle, she would use as a foundation. She could feel it now, the dark potency of the blood magic surging within her threads, the taste of power that was both foreign and familiar.

Alyssara's lips curled into a grin as she drew it in, thread by thread, until it became her own.

The transformation wasn't subtle. Crimson tendrils of light burned brighter, suffusing her entire form. Her cyan-green eyes deepened to a luminous jade, glowing with an intensity that spoke of a predator who had seen beyond mortal limits. Her skin, pale as moonlight, took on a faint, otherworldly shimmer. The air around her seemed to hum, vibrating with a rhythm that echoed the beating of an alien heart.

She was no longer simply human, but neither was she fully vampire. She had forged something entirely new.

A hybrid. A synthesis of humanity's relentless will and the primal, unyielding hunger of vampirism. 

Her powers coalesced, sharper and stronger than ever before. The threads she wove seemed alive, shimmering with a vitality that pulsed with the rhythm of her transformation. The limits she once felt—the barriers that kept her from reaching the highest echelons of Radiant-rank—crumbled away.

Selene watched, her glaive at the ready, but she didn't attack. For all her caution, all her preparation, what could she do? Alyssara's power wasn't merely growing—it was reimagining itself, stepping into realms that Selene's own strength couldn't hope to touch.

Alyssara finally opened her eyes, her gaze alight with predatory delight.

"I suppose this is what it means to evolve," she said softly, her voice carrying a silken edge. She stretched her arms, her threads swirling around her like the tendrils of a cosmic entity. "And here I thought that contract would hold me back forever. How dull."

She turned her gaze toward Selene, the faintest smile playing on her lips. "And now… I have all the time in the world to understand him. My Arthur."

Selene braced herself, gripping her glaive tighter. She couldn't afford to let her guard down, not even for a moment. Whatever Alyssara had become, it was something far beyond the foe she had prepared to face.

But Alyssara merely tilted her head, as though amused. "Don't worry, Kagu," she said, her tone almost teasing. "I'm not here for you. I have bigger plans."

With a single, fluid motion, Alyssara turned, her threads dissolving the last vestiges of the contract. Her transformation was complete. And as the fractured space around them seemed to settle, the Crimson Dancer smiled.

"My dear Arthur," she murmured, almost to herself. "You'll come to see it, won't you? Just how perfect we'll be together."

Alyssara Velcroix had reached high Radiant-rank.