Alzara froze. The tiny creature gleamed like carved obsidian, its stinger dripping with faint violet light. Galato grinned wider, the veins on his neck bulging as he stroked the creature with a perverse fondness.

"This little beauty is called a Soul Widow." His tone dripped with mockery. "One sting, and your mana veins dissolve while your body stays alive. You will become a crippled mortal woman and succumb to torturous pain every single day."

"Oh… nothing turns me on as much as pain does. My sweet princess. Come, let's go to my pleasure palace. There are many women like you there. All are enjoying my bond of pain every day. You will become one of mine and live forever serving me."

"Oh, make sure you satisfy me. Otherwise, I will throw you to the outer sect members. There are millions of them, and they won't let off a beauty like you easily. Even if you want to die, it won't be possible. Many of them are talented healers." He laughed. "They will heal you over and over and rape you until you bleed to death."

Alzara's trembling stopped. Even after hearing all the vicious words, only a look of indifference covered her beautiful face. She spat at him without uttering a word.

The glob of spit landed squarely on Galato's cheek, sliding down the side of his face and dripping onto his collar.

Then the man's expression twisted, fury, disbelief, humiliation all colliding into something feral. "You dare? You dare defy me? Your master? You filthy whore!"

Alzara's gaze didn't waver. Her golden eyes, once trembling with fear, now glowed with cold defiance. "I've met monsters before," she said softly. "But you… You are not even worthy of that word. You are filth that learned to speak."

Galato's composure snapped. The Soul Widow writhed in his palm as his aura exploded outward, the ground beneath him cracking. "You think your little tricks can save you again, witch?!" He raised his hand, ready to strike, his killing intent suffocating.

But before the stinger could fall, a blood tendril silently appeared and grabbed the small scorpion. It then crushed it and absorbed the small beast's blood essence, all in the blink of an eye.

"That is an interesting little beast." Damon clicked his tongue in disappointment. He was hoping for a soul attack or something interesting, but he did not really get any specific skill from the scorpion. "Do you know where I can find more of that?" He asked casually, appearing right behind Galato.

At the same time, his shadow clone appeared behind Nara, and several burning crimson lances materialized all around them.

Galato froze. His pupils contracted to pinpricks, his entire body locking up as the air itself thickened with bloodlust. A heartbeat later, the crushed remains of the Soul Widow dripped between Damon's fingers like black tar, dissolving into crimson mist.

"How…" Galato never finished the question. Damon's hand shot forward, piercing straight through his shoulder and out the other side, the force so precise that not a drop of blood hit the ground.

The crimson tendrils that followed pulsed like veins, wrapping around the man's body and pinning him in midair and absorbing his blood essence as he writhed in agony from the poison spreading in his body.

"Still breathing," Damon murmured, studying him like one might a specimen under glass. "Good. So your body has also undergone some sort of poison training. Your technique should be pretty good if you have so much resistance to even my venom!"

At the same time, the shadow clone behind Nara acted as the many blood lances shot forward. The assassin was much better than the other one, as his figure blurred swiftly, evading the attack. "Now this is fascinating… how did a bloodsucker like you end up here?" The man's voice boomed from everywhere and nowhere.

The moment his voice echoed, the entire grove darkened. Shadows stretched unnaturally, bending and twisting as if alive. The temperature dropped, and even the whispering leaves fell silent. Nara's presence completely vanished, yet his killing intent lingered.

Suddenly, dozens of shadow blades erupted from every direction, slashing toward Damon and Alzara. Blood barriers shot up around them, protecting them from the attack, but each attack was like a missile, tearing apart the blood barrier as if it were nothing.

At the same time, more crimson lances appeared, forming a storm of red energy. Blood domain erupted all around. Each blade that touched a lance hissed and disintegrated, splattering ink-like darkness into the ground.

Nara only laughed at this response, and the next moment, black circles appeared all over the ground. Shadows danced from these runes as they started taking down the blood storm. The clash was apocalyptic. Crimson and black collided in a maelstrom that tore apart the grove, stripping bark from trees and splitting the ground into glowing fissures.

Alzara shielded her eyes, the golden veil around her cracking under the sheer force of the two auras battling for dominance. When she finally dared to look up, she saw Damon standing in the center of it all, utterly still amid the chaos, the storm orbiting him as if the world itself bent around his will.

"Run." Damon turned around and mouthed at her. He did not wait around to see what she would do. He started running as well. Not towards the fairy king's tomb but towards the other direction, the direction of the chaos.

Nara looked at him with a strange glint in his eyes and then gave chase.

"Running from me already?" Nara landed in front of him in a blink, his cloak of darkness rippling like liquid night. "You just entered C-rank, didn't you? You are still too weak to face someone like me!" Nara laughed as numerous shadows erupted all around Damon.

In an instant, Damon was completely locked into some sort of shadow world. But it was right at this moment that the giant treant that was wreaking havoc in the chaotic battlefield decided to turn around and pay attention to Nara.

***

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