Vaelor III

Magnus Draykar, the Martial King, had once told Arthur that footwork was the foundation of all martial arts.

Arthur had agreed wholeheartedly.

Now, his Grade 5 art surged with renewed vigor, each strike imbued with the potency of pseudo astral energy and the fluid precision of his evolved footwork through Divine Copy. It wasn't just skill; it was a relentless dance, a storm of attacks that bombarded Vaelor from every conceivable angle.

Vaelor's spear, cloaked in the swirling darkness of night and the crimson glow of blood astral energy, met Arthur's onslaught with calculated precision. Yet, it was clear the balance had shifted. The effortless dominance Vaelor once held over Arthur's strikes was gone.

Before, the ocean Arthur created couldn't submerge Vaelor—it had broken against the immovable rock of his strength.

But now… now the tides were rising. 

Arthur was close, tantalizingly close, to matching him. But that was all—just close. 

Vaelor still stood at a level Arthur had yet to reach. His mastery of Heart—the crystallization of one's journey with a weapon—allowed him to harness astral energy to its fullest potential. Heart wasn't just a step beyond Resonance; it was a leap, a pinnacle that magnified power and transcended ordinary limits.

Even as Arthur's refined movements amplified his strength, they weren't enough to overwhelm the Vampire Elder. Vaelor's spear remained steadfast, parrying each strike, its power unyielding. In truth, Arthur was holding his ground only because of his new footwork, gliding around Vaelor's heavier, deadlier strikes with precision and grace.

But Arthur knew better than to rely on a war of attrition. This wasn't a game he could win by endurance or even pure skill. Vaelor's strength would eventually wear him down.

Arthur needed something decisive.

In the Isolation Chamber, his God Flash had clashed with Art's White Flash, and in that moment, Arthur had seen it—his own inferiority laid bare. White Flash wasn't just an improvement; it was a transformation, a movement that had evolved beyond the boundaries of God Flash.

But Arthur hadn't copied White Flash. He didn't want to. 

Instead, he refined God Flash further, sharpening it to a singularity—a pure, razor-edged expression of speed and precision. It wasn't a move meant to compete with White Flash. It was something else entirely. A movement designed to exploit the smallest lapse, to strike with such blinding speed and decisive power that the opponent wouldn't have time to react.

Vaelor raised his spear, forcing Arthur back with a powerful surge. His mind churned, calculating the next move in this intricate dance of death. For just a moment, he relaxed his guard.

That moment was enough.

Arthur moved. A flash—a streak of white light cut through the dimly lit cavern, searing across the darkness like a comet tearing through the night sky. 

Vaelor barely had time to react. The air itself seemed to split, the silence shattered by the sound of Arthur's strike closing the gap between them.

Arthur moved past Vaelor in a blur, the space between them collapsing in an instant. By the time Vaelor realized what had happened, it was already too late.

Arthur's strike had landed. The Vampire Elder's body was wracked with the devastating force of pseudo astral energy, the concentrated power tearing through him like a storm unleashed.

Arthur staggered as he spat out blood, his hand instinctively reaching for his side. The cut from Vaelor's spear was deep, the edges burning with residual energy, but Arthur's fingers glowed faintly as light mana poured from them, knitting the wound together as best as he could manage.

Vaelor, however, was in far worse condition. Arthur's newly refined God Flash had struck true, its full force crashing against Vaelor's body. Even with his unnatural durability, the damage was severe. Yet, as blood seeped from his wounds, his body began to knit itself back together.

The regeneration wasn't on par with the miraculous healing of Immortal-rankers, those who had undergone the second body metamorphosis and transcended such injuries. But it was still formidable—a trait of vampires who had undergone the first body metamorphosis, granting them resilience beyond mortal understanding. Compared to Arthur, still at Integration-rank and yet to experience his own first transformation, it was a significant advantage.

Vaelor's crimson eyes widened, his usually composed expression now betraying a flicker of disbelief. 

Not just at the damage Arthur had inflicted, though that alone was staggering. 

It was the speed—the sheer impossibility of the attack. Arthur had struck with blinding precision in the microsecond Vaelor had lowered his guard, exploiting the moment with an instinct and timing that spoke of terrifying skill.

The room felt colder somehow. Vaelor's chest tightened as an unfamiliar sensation coursed through him, making his heart beat harder against his ribs.

Fear.

True fear.

For the first time in this battle, Vaelor felt the creeping edge of mortality, the icy whisper of death brushing against him. Arthur had not just wounded him—he had shaken the foundation of Vaelor's confidence, exposing the Vampire Elder to a vulnerability he had long believed was beyond him. 

Vaelor stared at Arthur, blood dripping from his body, and saw not a boy out of his depth but a predator who had learned how to hunt something far larger than himself.

Vaelor couldn't afford to falter, not now. The weight of his existence bore down on him—his duty, his purpose, and above all, the survival of the Vampire Monarch. He couldn't allow himself to fall, not while the Red Sun continued its work.

Blood astral energy surged around his spear, coiling like a living force, the crimson glow deepening as it expanded, the weapon now a towering extension of his will. The energy pulsed in time with Vaelor's Spear Heart, a beat that seemed to resonate with the very air around them.

Arthur stood opposite him, his breaths heavy but his resolve unshaken. A flicker of light shimmered beside him, and then a small, doll-like figure materialized, her amethyst hair cascading like a waterfall of twilight.

Her eyes, however, were the true terror. They held the infinite depths of the universe, stars glimmering within galaxies that seemed to twist and churn in silent judgment. Vaelor felt an involuntary chill creep up his spine. He raised his guard instinctively, unsure what power Arthur had summoned to the field.

But hesitation was not in Vaelor's nature. Without allowing himself the luxury of thought, he thrust his spear forward. The sheer force of the motion sent his astral energy lancing across the distance between them, a streak of blood-soaked night cutting through the air.

Arthur didn't flinch. With a calm, deliberate motion, he swung his sword downward, its pseudo astral energy meeting Vaelor's attack with equal ferocity. The energies collided, a thunderous crack reverberating through the cavern as Arthur's strike shattered Vaelor's blood astral energy, scattering it like shards of broken glass.

Vaelor surged forward, his spear a crimson blur as he sought to press Arthur into submission. Their weapons collided with a deafening clash, the force rippling through the air like a distant storm breaking.

Arthur's blade began to move once more, a fluid dance that Vaelor recognized but quickly realized had evolved. It wasn't the same relentless art from before—this time, spellcasting wove itself into the movements. 

As Arthur's Grade 5 art flowed with lethal precision, the air around him shimmered with the energy of multiple 6-circle spells, each one cast with the ease of a master multitasking at the peak of their craft. Fire, water, wind, earth, light, dark, lightning, ice, time, space and gravity magic swirled in a chaotic orchestra, creating a battlefield Vaelor could scarcely navigate.

The Vampire Elder gritted his teeth as he felt the pressure mount. Each clash of his spear against Arthur's sword left him reeling, his body marked by a growing number of injuries. Arthur, too, wasn't unscathed. Vaelor's spear found its mark more than once, but the damage Arthur sustained was nothing compared to the toll inflicted on Vaelor.

For the first time, Vaelor felt it—true defeat looming on the horizon. His movements grew heavier, his attacks slower. He was losing ground.

Then it happened. Arthur's strike broke through, forcing Vaelor back, his body trembling under the strain of the relentless assault. He staggered, his crimson eyes narrowing as he watched Arthur advance once more.

But this time, something was different.

Arthur's blade hummed with an unnatural resonance. Two layers of pseudo astral energy encased the blade, each vibrating with raw power. Between the layers was a hollow gap, swirling with black specks that seemed to devour the light around them, tiny voids that pulsed with ominous energy.

Vaelor's grip tightened on his spear. He could feel the finality in the attack Arthur was preparing. With a growl, he summoned the last reserves of his astral energy, pouring everything into his weapon. A blood circle manifested around him, its crimson glow amplified by his Spear Heart, the very essence of his mastery.

And then they clashed.

Arthur's Hollow Eclipse met Vaelor's spear with a force that shook the cavern to its core. The black voids within Arthur's blade erupted on contact, collapsing and expanding in bursts of destructive energy. Vaelor's blood circle flared brilliantly as his spear pushed back against the overwhelming power, the two forces locked in a battle of wills.

For a moment, time seemed to freeze. The air stilled, the only sound the deafening hum of colliding energies. And then the storm broke.