A Healer's Sacrifice

Horus let out a deafening roar, taunting everyone within the vicinity. The mere mortals he once looked down upon were putting up a good fight, and it was really getting under his skin.

The chamber trembled with the force of the battle, and the air was thick with tension. Albrecht, having regained some strength, prepared to continue the fight when he noticed the healer—a young woman with bright eyes and a fierce determination—rushing toward him.

"Heal!" The young healer let out as she waved her staff around, getting dangerously closer to Horus's area.

"Wait!" Albrecht called out, his voice cutting through the chaos. Although it wasn't clear, he knew that if the healer got too close, Horus would be automatically drawn into her, targeting her instead of Albrecht.

The Tank, realizing the danger, shouted as well, "Get back in formation!"

It was too late. The healer was already too close. She meant well, but at that moment, that intention was the equivalent of tempting death.

Her instinct to heal overrode her sense of caution, and in that brief moment, Horus seized the opportunity. With a fluid motion, he drew his bow and released an arrow, its tip glinting with deadly intent as it hurtled through the air.

Fwoosh~!

"Sh-t" Albrecht let out as he tried to rush towards the healer who had already waved her staff once. No matter how fast Albrecht could go, however, there was nothing he could do to stop the arrow.

Even if he used his time manipulation skill, Chronos Reversal, he knew that the arrow was instantaneous, and he didn't really expect the healer to rush towards him.

Fwip~!

Before anyone could react, the arrow struck the healer with a sickening thud. The force of the impact sent her sprawling, her body convulsing as the arrow's dark magic began to tear through her. Blood pooled around her, staining the ancient stones. She let out a gasp, but only a gargle escaped her mouth, and she was beginning to drown in her blood. 

Gaagghk~!

The adventurers rushed to her side, their faces pale with fear and desperation. The healer's breaths came in ragged gasps, her life force ebbing away with each passing second. Her eyes, once so full of life, were now filled with pain and fear.

"Stay with us!" the Tank pleaded, his voice breaking as he tried to apply pressure to the wound. But it was clear she was in no condition to continue the battle.

Albrecht knelt beside her, his mind racing. He didn't have a dedicated healing skill, but there was one ability he knew could help—an ability that he had come to rely on in moments like this.

"Thanks... but you shouldn't have done that. All of you, it's your job to guard your healer no matter what. I can't believe you let him slip past. If I weren't here, she'd have died." Albrecht said, glaring at everyone in the group, letting his words sink in as they stared with dilated eyes. 

Without hesitation, he activated Vampire Metamorphosis, his form shifting as dark energy enveloped him. His skin grew paler, his eyes glowing with a fierce red light. His fangs extended as he bit into his own wrist, allowing the vampiric blood to flow. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he summoned Sariel's Death Scythe.

[Sariel's Death Scythe equipped.]

The System's prompt flashed before his eyes, but he paid it no mind. The scythe's dark energy pulsed in his hand as he channeled it into the healer. The energy surged into her body, knitting torn flesh, staunching the flow of blood, and mending broken bones. It wasn't a complete healing, but it was enough to stabilize her, enough to keep her from death's door.

The healer gasped as the pain lessened, her body trembling from the strain. Her eyes met Albrecht's, filled with gratitude and relief.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice weak but sincere.

Albrecht nodded, his expression grim. "Stay down. You're out of the fight, but you'll live."

The adventurers gathered around the healer, their relief palpable. But the respite was short-lived. From across the chamber, a mocking laugh echoed, cold and cruel.

Horus stood atop a pile of rubble, his bow still drawn, a twisted smile playing on his lips. His laughter grated against Albrecht's nerves, igniting a fury deep within him.

Albrecht's eyes narrowed, his anger rising as he watched Horus. The god's arrogance, his cruelty—it was infuriating. Without a word, Albrecht stood, his grip tightening on Sariel's Death Scythe.

"Stay here," Albrecht ordered the adventurers, his voice low and dangerous. "I'll deal with him."

The Tank opened his mouth to protest, but the look in Albrecht's eyes silenced him. There was a fire there, a determination that left no room for argument. The Tank could only nod, stepping back as Albrecht moved forward.

As Albrecht approached Horus, the chamber seemed to darken, the air growing heavy with anticipation. The god's laughter faded, replaced by a cold, calculating stare. Albrecht could feel the weight of Horus's gaze, the challenge in his eyes.

The battle was far from over. If anything, it was only just beginning.

The vast desert landscape that Horus commanded loomed ahead, a treacherous domain filled with shifting sands and mirages. Albrecht could already feel the heat radiating from the stones beneath his feet, the oppressive weight of the sun bearing down on him. The God of the Hunt was a master of this terrain, and his legendary bow was no ordinary weapon. Each shot was a precision strike, capable of sniping even the most elusive of targets.

But Albrecht was ready. He had faced gods before, and he knew that this battle would test him in ways that few others had. The stakes were high, and the price of failure was unthinkable.

As he stepped forward, the shadows lengthened, and the sands began to shift. Horus's eyes gleamed with anticipation as he drew his bow, the string taut and ready to unleash its deadly payload.

Albrecht raised Sariel's Death Scythe, the blade gleaming with dark energy, and prepared to face the god's wrath. This battle would be one for the ages—a clash between a mortal who had defied the odds and a god who ruled the hunt.

And as the sands of the desert began to swirl around them, the stage was set for the next epic confrontation.