"I was never the type to get into fights when I was little," I mused quietly to myself. "It's weird how these days I can't walk anywhere without stumbling into an ambush or an attack. Though, looking back, I suppose I seem to actively search for them now."
As that deep and profound thought about the trajectory of my life drifted through my mind, a gigantic wolf paw tipped with wicked, razor-sharp claws suddenly entered my field of vision, heading straight for my throat. I instantly willed a defensive barrier into existence, and those lethal claws slammed heavily into the invisible shield. Despite managing to block the initial assault, the sheer kinetic force of the impact sent me hurtling backward, crashing violently into the masonry wall of a nearby building.
The barrier I had manifested completely spared me from taking any blunt trauma from the collision. I dislodged myself from the indentation in the wall, the metal structural beams groaning softly under the shifting weight. Pushing myself back to my feet, I stared down the mountain of muscle standing before me, who was glaring at me as if I were a freshly prepared dinner.
Up above, brilliant flashes of light continuously split the night sky, accompanied by thunderous booming noises that underscored the terrifying intensity of the ongoing battle. I had never witnessed a conflict of such colossal proportions. Both combatants were so obscenely powerful that their high-speed clashes made the surrounding buildings quake from the resulting shockwaves.
Shifting my attention back to my own fight, I quickly began calculating the best strategy to take down this monstrous adversary. His physical frame had become so heavily reinforced by the mage's synthetic doping agent that standard blunt trauma barely registered, and slashing attacks left nothing more than superficial scratches.
Taking a deep, stabilizing breath, I decided to take the initiative. Exerting every ounce of explosive strength into my right leg, I launched myself forward, leaving a deep, cratered footprint in the concrete. The momentum of the leap sent me sailing high past the rooftops of the neighboring buildings.
As my ascending trajectory reached its absolute peak, I willed the air beneath my feet to rapidly condense, forming a stable, solid platform. I stood upside down mid-air for a fleeting moment before crouching and violently propelling myself downward like a missile toward the ferocious werewolf waiting on the ground.
He saw me descending at a blinding velocity and raised his guard. Despite his bolstered confidence after ingesting the mage's concoction, the mysterious power I had used to deflect his earlier onslaught made him deeply wary.
In a fraction of a second, I had bridged the gap. As I neared his position, I once again willed the surrounding atmosphere to compress, creating a localized vacuum before gathering the rushing air into a razor-sharp, three-meter-long wind blade.
As I plummeted, the blade whistled through the atmosphere, screaming of its unparalleled cutting edge. The werewolf recognized the lethal danger too late; he tried desperately to dodge, but my arms moved faster. Swinging downward in a powerful arc, the wind blade sliced cleanly through the atmosphere and bisected his massive body in two. His upper torso separated instantly from his lower half, and a twin geyser of dark blood and viscera erupted from both ends.
BANG!
I landed heavily, forming a fresh crater in the pavement. As I tried to regain my bearings, a sharp wave of dizziness washed over me. I realized immediately that I had severely overtaxed my Willpower; every single cell in my body throbbed with fatigue, and I could barely drag myself toward the dying werewolf.
Standing over his twitching form, I watched as his severed muscles continued to spasm in a testament to his tenacious, supernatural vitality. Crouching down, I quickly put an end to his misery before collapsing dead tired right beside his corpse.
High above, the aerial battle had reached its catastrophic climax as both fighters unleashed their most devastating techniques. Chloe was shrouded in a terrifying, dense red haze, moving so fast she left trailing, broken afterimages across the sky, completely blinding the mage to her positioning as she hurled head-sized fire orbs his way.
I briefly wondered why ordinary humans hadn't flooded the streets to gawk at the massive commotion, but realized it was undoubtedly due to the perimeter management of Chloe's subordinates. The combat paused for a brief second as Chloe demanded answers from the mage regarding their true objective—slaughtering hundreds of innocent people.
"Our goal?" The mage's gaze drifted into the distance with a fanatical, unsettling gleam in his eyes. "Nothing much. Our master simply has a great need for the souls of these beings."
My expression hardened instantly at those words.
The hollow abysses I saw inside those preserved corpses... that's what happens when souls are forcibly ripped right out of their mortal shells, I realized with a chilling start.
Chloe's demeanor turned absolute ice as she grasped the dark implications of his confession. Within the supernatural community, the soul was rarely spoken of or understood; it was generally known only as the ultimate prize sought by demons.
The fact that these cultists were harvesting souls on such a massive scale signaled a terrifying omen for the future. It also strongly indicated that they were either aligned with or directly serving a powerful demonic entity.
Although the cosmic veil separating our worlds remained sealed—preventing true demons and angels from crossing over physically—they had clearly found backdoor channels to manipulate and corrupt humans.
"I see," Chloe said coldly. "Why do you need so many souls, and which demon are you working for?"
The mage looked confused for a split second before throwing his head back in booming, manic laughter.
"Why we need so many souls is not for grunts like us to know; it is, of course, part of the grand master plan! As for your second question—no puny demon could ever be my master. His brilliance and power are incomparable. He is destined to rule this entire world!" He laughed hysterically.
Hearing that answer, I watched Chloe's brow furrow. She had clearly deduced that a much larger, highly sinister conspiracy was at play beneath the surface. She took a slow, calming breath, and a freezing, ruthless composure settled over her features. Glazing up at the raving lunatic, she spoke with absolute finality:
"Even though I still don't know the specifics of your master's grand design, you've given me more than enough to start digging. Now, it's time for you to die."
Her crimson eyes flared, growing brighter and brighter until they burned like twin red suns. The raw presence emanating from her was ancient, brutal, and profoundly archaic—the exact same terrifying aura she had projected the very first time she tasted my blood.
The mage stared at her, recognition finally dawning across his pale, blood-streaked face.
"You... you are Chloe Crimson! The Blood Dragon!!" he cried out, absolute terror gripping his voice.
I remained flat on the ground, resting my battered muscles while watching their duel. Sensing the sheer density of energy radiating from Chloe now, I knew she had stopped holding back.
Ever since the day she ingested my blood, something dormant had awakened within her—the very catalyst that fueled her abnormal, terrifying growth rate. Her power had steadily compounded over time, and she had once confided in me that her baseline strength already rivaled that of a vampire over two thousand years old.
I understood now that while she had been toying with the lunatic earlier, she had deliberately acted as though they were on equal footing, letting him believe he had a fighting chance so he wouldn't hold back or conceal anything from her.
A churning crimson haze abruptly enveloped her form, solidifying into a massive, terrifyingly lifelike dragon. The beast radiated an aura of pure, suffocating bloodlust. Its glowing gaze locked onto the trembling mage, and it struck.
A bloody streak tore across the night sky as the dragon hurtled through the atmosphere toward its target. Sweating profusely, the mage desperately threw up a reinforced, glowing blue barrier, funneling every remaining drop of his magical reserves into the defense.
It was entirely futile. The blood dragon paid the magical shield zero mind, ripping through the barrier as if it were a fragile soap bubble. Before the mage could even register that his final line of defense had shattered, his lower body was cleanly sheared off in a single, brutal bite.
He shrieked hysterically as he stared down at his missing limbs.
"My master won't let you stop him! Even if you figure out who he is, you aren't his match—nobody is! He will destroy—"
Before he could finish his tragic final monologue, the blood dragon whipped around and ended him with a second decisive snap of its jaws, dissipating harmlessly into the night air.
As the dragon vanished, Chloe exhaled softly, her skin flushing with vitality as the minor cuts and scrapes she had sustained during the fight instantly sealed themselves closed. I suspected the concentrated life force of the mage's blood had nourished her. She descended smoothly from the sky, landing lightly right beside me.
"Are you okay?" she asked, glancing down briefly at the charred remains of the werewolf before focusing on me.
"Yeah, don't worry, I just severely overexerted my Will," I muttered, wincing. "So... soul catchers, huh?"
"Yeah," she frowned deeply. "It seems this faction is exponentially more dangerous than I initially calculated. The fact that they're harvesting souls can only mean one thing—a direct, active pact with the nether realms."
She gazed upward, her eyes glowing briefly, and within seconds, her two tactical subordinates materialized from the shadows.
"Take care of the cleanup," she commanded crisply before reaching down to help me to my feet. Supporting each other, we walked back to the luxury car and began the long drive back to the mansion.