Meanwhile, in the Human Empire.

Evelyn was barely holding the massive golden barrier that stretched around the Avaloria Empire. Every clash between Alex and Kyle above sent waves of pressure crashing against it like divine storms.

The barrier trembled violently, golden cracks spreading across its surface each time their powers collided.

Her arms shook as she forced more divine energy into the barrier. Her breathing was labored, sweat rolling down her face. 'If I let go, the shockwaves alone will erase half the Empire. I can't… I can't let it fall.'

Suddenly, a familiar voice called out, breaking through the chaos. "Big sis! What the hell is happening?!"

Evelyn turned her head sharply.

Running toward her through the dust and broken earth was Ethan, his aura blazing with golden light. Behind him were King Edward evans avaloria, Duke Reynard, Marquis Starlight, and Marquis Augustus—each surrounded by their elite knights and soldiers.

Their faces were pale from the overwhelming pressure of the two forces colliding in the sky.

Evelyn's eyes widened in alarm. "What are you all doing here?!"

King Edwards shouted, his voice barely audible over the thunder above. "We came as soon as we sensed the disturbance! The sky itself is tearing apart!"

Evelyn clenched her jaw. "Enemy forces are here. Go—protect the city! Help evacuate the citizens immediately. This entire region has become a battlefield!"

Ethan stepped forward, his fists glowing with holy flames. "But I want to help you!"

Evelyn's tone turned sharp, commanding. "Just do as I say, Ethan! Now!"

Her shout carried divine force, shaking the air. Ethan's eyes widened in frustration, but he saw the desperation on her face. Without another word, he nodded and ran toward the lower districts where the battle was spreading, followed by the others.

Evelyn exhaled shakily, turning her focus back to the barrier. The golden dome pulsed faintly as another devastating impact struck from above, sending cracks racing across the sky.

She grit her teeth, reinforcing the structure with what little energy she had left. 'Alex… please end this soon. I can't hold forever. Or thousands will die.'

On th other hand on the battlefield Azrael knelt on one knee, his breathing ragged. His armor was shattered, blood dripping from several deep gashes that refused to close. The once-mighty demon looked barely alive. Around him lay scorched earth and the corpses of dozens of soldiers.

Across from him stood Silas, the man who had cornered him, he was unscathed and his spear dripping with blackened blood. Behind Silas, three of his allies—high-ranking grandmasters feom th cult—watched with cruel satisfaction.

Silas sneered, stepping closer. He placed his boot on Azrael's head, pressing him into the dirt. "You did well," he said mockingly. "I bet your father would've been proud to see how pitifully you fought."

Azrael clenched his fists, glaring up from the ground, hatred burning in his eyes. But his body refused to move. Blood trickled down his forehead. He was spent.

Silas raised his spear high, the black edge glinting in the dim light. "Let's end this."

Azrael closed his eyes, accepting the inevitable.

But then—an eruption of black fire ignited between them.

A surge of heat swept through the air, swallowing the battlefield in roaring flames. The explosion engulfed Silas's three allies before they could even scream. Their armor melted, their bodies consumed by pure black fire that devoured flesh and bone alike.

Their screams echoed only for a second before silence took hold.

When the flames settled, nothing remained of them—just ash drifting through the night wind.

A calm, confident voice echoed across the field. "Looks like they did a number on you, Mr. Demon."

Azrael's eyes opened, his breath catching as he turned toward the source of the voice.

Standing amidst the dying embers was a young man with fiery red eyes and a confident smirk. His black coat fluttered in the hot wind, his hand resting casually on the hilt of his glowing crimson sword.

It was Alden von Crestvale.

Beside him stood a woman draped in midnight attire, her pale skin gleaming under the faint moonlight. Her crimson eyes glowed faintly, and the black aura surrounding her carried an unmistakable chill of death. Two long fangs caught the light when she smiled faintly.

Lilith Noctis Bloodrose—the Vampire Princess.

Lilith's gaze fell toward Silas, her expression indifferent but deadly. " this one… smells disgusting."

Silas took an instinctive step back. His muscles tensed, his instincts screaming danger. 'Damn it. I've already used up nearly all of my strength. And those two… they're not normal. Both carry divine protection. If I fight recklessly, I'll die.'

His eyes darted toward the shadowed forest behind him. 'I have to find a way out.'

But before he could move, Alden's figure vanished.

In the blink of an eye, Alden appeared directly in front of him, his sword drawn. The air shimmered from the speed of his movement.

Alden's tone was cold, almost disappointed. "What the hell are you thinking?"

Silas barely had time to react. He twisted his body desperately as Alden's blade slashed toward his neck. The edge grazed his shoulder instead, cutting deep into his arm.

A blast of black flames followed the strike.

Silas screamed as his arm was consumed instantly, vanishing in a swirl of burning shadow. The stench of charred flesh filled the air.

Alden's voice echoed calmly through the battlefield. "Forget it. That arm will never come back."

Silas stumbled backward, panting, his body trembling from shock. He looked around frantically, hoping to find an opening, but then—

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

Three wet sounds echoed in succession.

Silas turned, his eyes widening in horror.

Three of his remaining allies—each a Low Grandmaster—stood frozen, crimson spears of hardened blood piercing straight through their chests. Their eyes rolled back, and they collapsed lifelessly to the ground.

Silas's voice trembled. "Impossible… Low Grandmasters… killed by mere blood spears?"

His gaze shifted slowly, fear rising in his chest.

Lilith stood calmly a few meters away, her hand outstretched, crimson energy swirling lazily around her fingertips. Her expression was cold and serene, as if she had merely swatted away insects.

Silas's blood ran cold. 'That vampire girl… she's no ordinary avatar. She's a monster.'

------

Just as Silas thought he was about to die, a calm yet mocking voice drifted across the scorched battlefield.

"Looks like you're in trouble, Mr. Crow."

The moment that voice reached his ears, Silas froze. His eyes widened in recognition. Relief and dread mingled on his bloodied face.

"Mr. Albert," he exhaled weakly, "you really took your time."

From the shadows stepped a tall man with brown hair and sharp brown eyes, his expression carrying the effortless confidence of someone used to being obeyed. The faint crimson aura around him pulsed with terrifying density—the unmistakable pressure of a Transcendent Rank being. Behind him followed a dozen more figures, each radiating immense power.

Their arrival shifted the very air. The black flames around Alden and Lilith flickered as the temperature changed, the atmosphere suddenly heavy with murderous intent.

Alden's jaw clenched tightly as his grip on his sword hardened. His teeth ground together when he saw the familiar face. Lilith glanced sideways at him and spoke quietly. "He's a Transcendent… Do you know him?"

Alden nodded, his expression dark. "He was my uncle, Albert von Crestvale." His voice lowered, bitter and cold. "But he betrayed our family years ago… joined the Cult instead."

Lilith's eyes narrowed, her lips curving into a grim smile. "So this is the traitor I've heard about."

Albert's amused gaze fell on Alden. "Alden, my boy," he said with a tone that carried both mockery and nostalgia. "You've grown splendidly. I must say, I wonder what expression your father will make when I send him your head."

Alden's eyes burned with fury, but his smirk didn't waver. "Why don't you try taking it then, incompetent bastard? I still can't believe my father had someone as pathetically useless as you for a brother."

The insult hit like a blade. Albert's calm façade cracked. His face flushed red with rage. "You insolent brat!" he roared. In the next instant, he vanished from sight.

Alden barely had time to move before Albert reappeared directly before him, his leg raised mid-kick—fast enough to split the air. The shockwave from his movement shredded the ground beneath them.

But before the blow could land, another voice thundered across the battlefield.

"Don't you dare touch him!"

A loud metallic clang echoed as the kick met resistance. A strong hand had caught Albert's leg mid-strike, halting it completely.

Standing between Alden and Albert was a tall man with same identical brown hair and nrown eyes—the aura surrounding him steady, authoritative, and heavy with divine presence.

Reynard von Crestvale had arrived.

Behind him, soldiers of Crestvale's elite guard emerged through the smoke, their armor gleaming and weapons drawn.

Reynard's voice cut through the chaos, low and controlled. "It seems even rats crawl out from the dark when the world starts to burn." He tightened his grip on Albert's leg, forcing him back a step. "I've been waiting a long time after you ran way last time lik coward."

Albert's eyes narrowed, fury boiling beneath his calm exterior. "Ill kill you this time, Reynard? The family should've fallen long ago. I'll finish what I started."

Reynard released his leg and drew his sword in one smooth motion, the blade radiating a faint golden light. "Then come and try."

Chaos eruoted around them.

-----

Somewhere else within the Avaloria Empire's lower districts, chaos was spreading fast.

A crimson-haired woman sprinted through the debris-filled streets, her boots splashing through shallow puddles of blood and rainwater. Her communicator crackled in her ear as she shouted, panic lacing her voice. "Arya! Arya, where the hell are you?!"

She panted heavily, her grip tightening on the small EtherPad in her hand. The screen displayed a flickering location marker. "Where is Master Kyle? Say something, damn it!"

Her name was Melina. And right now, fear was etched deeply into her features.

Following the blinking marker on the screen, she turned a corner and arrived at a desolate courtyard scorched by fire and battle. Smoke curled into the air, and the stench of burnt metal hung thick.

The location matched exactly.

Melina slowed her steps, eyes darting around cautiously. But instead of finding Arya, she saw someone else sitting calmly at the center of the devastation—a girl with long white hair that shimmered faintly under the broken moonlight.

The girl sat on a stone bench, legs crossed, her posture relaxed as if the chaos around her didn't exist. Her sapphire-green eyes glowed faintly as she regarded Melina's approach with quiet amusement.

It was Alicia von Crestvale.

Melina froze. 'Those eyes she's…' she thought, her instincts screaming danger. 'I can't sense her strength at all. That's… impossible.'

Alicia tilted her head slightly, her voice calm yet laced with amusement. "I knew someone would come."

Melina's heart pounded as she took a cautious step forward. "You're looking for that green-haired lady, aren't you?" Alicia continued casually.

Melina's jaw tightened. "What did you do to her?!"

Alicia smiled softly, her tone disturbingly playful. "Relax. I didn't do anything… She's still alive."

With a casual flick of her finger, a translucent ripple spread through the air, revealing a hidden barrier nearby.

Melina turned toward it—and froze.

Inside the barrier, Arya was screaming silently. Her mouth was open in agony, her eyes bloodshot, but no sound escaped. Her voice was trapped within the seal. Her body convulsed as grotesque, writhing insects crawled all over her flesh, burrowing into her skin, tearing away pieces of her body.

They devoured her slowly, methodically. Her face was swollen beyond recognition, and every inch of her skin was scarred and bloody. The silence made it worse—every detail visible, every twitch of her body magnified in the horrific quiet.

Melina's stomach churned violently. She staggered back, covering her mouth as bile rose in her throat. The urge to vomit was overwhelming.

Her entire body trembled. 'What kind of monster would…'

Alicia stood beside her, watching Arya's suffering with detached fascination. Her tone was disturbingly calm. "You see, that woman did something she shouldn't have. And that crazy boyfriend of mine didn't want to give her an easy death…" She paused, smiling wider. "So I found a fitting one for her."

Melina's eyes widened in shock as she turned to face her. The madness in Alicia's expression was undeniable now—her pupils dilated, her grin twitching into something feral. "Isn't it perfect?" she whispered.

For a brief moment, her composure cracked entirely, and her voice became an echo of insanity. "Don't worry, you'll join her soon enough. You people just pushed someone you shouldn't have… and the consequences will be horrifying."

Melina's aura flared with rage, but deep down, her instincts screamed that this girl was dangerous.

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