Bloodline craft?

With a thunderous leap and a powerful strike from his feet, he tried to kick the head of the shadow figure beneath him, but the figure swiftly evaded, leaping aside just in time. The ship's deck groaned under George's weight as he landed, echoing his intent.

Without hesitation, George pushed forward, unnleashing a blow with extraordinary force, aiming squarely for the figure's face. A muffled impact resonated, yet to George's surprise, there was no visible injury on the figure's face.

Bewildered, he glanced down at his foot, finding it faintly smeared with blood. How had he drawn blood without leaving a mark?

Puzzled by this new development, George barely had time to process before the figure raised a hand, fingers pointed at him like a deadly weapon.

With a grimace, the figure intoned, "Bloodline craft : Red Flush!"

As the figure intoned the words, a small sphere of crimson liquid began to form around its fingers. The blood seemed to defy gravity, swirling and condensing into a perfect orb.

What caught George's attention, however, was the eerie glow emanating from the blood sphere. It pulsed with an unnatural, deep red light that seemed to absorb the darkness around it. The glow intensified with each passing second, casting an ominous crimson sheen on the figure's face and illuminating the immediate area with its otherworldly radiance.

The ball of blood continued to grow brighter, its luminescence becoming almost painful to look at directly. It hummed with barely contained energy, vibrating slightly as if eager to be unleashed.

Then, in a movement almost too fast for George to follow, the figure pulled its arm back. The glowing blood sphere stretched slightly, clinging to the creature's fingers like some nightmarish slingshot.

With a sharp, fluid motion, the figure released its hold. The blood sphere shot forward at incredible speed, trailing a tail of crimson light behind it as it hurtled towards George. The air itself seemed to crackle and part in its wake.

George had only a fraction of a second to react as the radiant blood bullet streaked towards him, its unearthly glow promising devastating consequences should it make contact. George instinctively braced himself, ready to evade at a moment's notice.

The blood projectile erupted from the figure's fingers with lethal velocity. George's instincts screamed, propelling him into action. He launched himself sideways, muscles straining as he pushed his newfound abilities to their limit.

The glowing sphere of blood streaked past him, missing by mere inches. George felt the heat of its passage searing his skin, the air crackling with malevolent energy.

An earth-shattering boom resonated through the night as the blood attack struck the ship. Metal shrieked and twisted, a significant portion of the vessel's structure disintegrating on impact. The ship lurched violently, groaning under the strain of the damage.

George tumbled across the now sharply angled deck, his enhanced reflexes barely keeping him from plummeting over the edge. He scrambled for purchase, fingers scraping against the tilted surface as he fought to regain his footing.

As he struggled to orient himself, George's gaze locked onto the figure. The creature's face remained an impassive mask, devoid of any satisfaction or frustration. Its eyes, however, gleamed with a predatory intensity that sent chills down George's spine.

The figure's fingers twitched, a telltale red glow beginning to coalesce around them once more. The air grew heavy with anticipation, charged with the promise of another devastating attack.

George's mind raced, adrenaline surging through his veins. He knew he couldn't keep dodging forever – each attack seemed capable of obliterating him in an instant. As the figure prepared to unleash another Blood attack, George realized he needed to do more than just evade. He needed to fight back.

Aware he couldn't afford to give his opponent another chance, George leaped with a ferocity that shattered the ship's structure.

Catching the figure off guard this time, George seized him by the neck and delivered a thunderous blow to his face, momentarily disorienting him. But before George could press his advantage, the figure retaliated swiftly, grabbing his arm and slamming him forcefully into the ground.

Infuriated, the figure attempted to crush George beneath his weight, but George managed to evade just in time, putting some distance between them.

Heart pounding with adrenaline, George watched as the figure nursed his injured face, clearly affected by the blow he had landed.

"You fool!" the figure spat, his anger palpable.

Before George could react, the figure lunged at him with terrifying speed. Despite his efforts to evade, George found himself caught by surprise as the figure's claws slashed forward, he instinctively raised a hand to block the attack from hitting his neck but ended up with deep cuts in his forearm. Then the figure followed it up with a fist that slammed into George's chest, launching him into the air.

As George struggled to make sense of the chaotic situation, he suddenly felt the figure's icy grip clench around his chest, mid flight — the figure had closed in unexpectedly.

Before he could react, mid-air, the figure bellowed, "Bloodline craft : Blast.."

Instantly, a searing pain erupted from his chest, radiating through every fiber of his being.

The sheer force of the attack launched him like a ragdoll, crashing mercilessly into a nearby shipping crate, the impact leaving him in serious pain.

Summoning every ounce of strength, George managed to pull himself to his feet, gazing up through the debris he had created.

In the pale moonlight, George tensed, anticipating another assault. Instead, he heard the sharp crack of splintering wood as the figure burst through a crate on the opposite side. The creature closed the distance with inhuman speed, its hand already poised with a deadly sphere of pulsating blood.

Driven by raw instinct, George moved with newfound agility. He twisted away, the blood sphere missing him by a hair's breadth. But the figure's momentum was unstoppable, and George found himself slammed against another wall, the impact rattling his bones.

The blood sphere struck the crate behind him, detonating with a thunderous boom. Wood and metal exploded outward, the structure collapsing in on itself, riddled with smoldering holes.

George scrambled through the crumbling debris, his enhanced senses guiding him through the chaos. He darted between crates, the figure's emotionless visage always just a step behind. Weaving through the maze of cargo, George's mind raced for a plan.

In a burst of inspiration, George skidded to a halt. As the figure closed in, he sprang backward, his foot connecting solidly with the creature's face. The impact sent the figure hurtling through the collapsing crate with a satisfying crunch.

"I think I got him!" George exclaimed, his voice echoing through the wreckage as he scanned for any sign of movement.

"You've surprised me, fledgling," came the figure's voice, eerily calm as he emerged from the rubble. "To endure my attacks without having fed enough to access your Bloodline..."

The word caught George's attention. 'Bloodline?' he mused, pieces of the puzzle falling into place.

His contemplation was cut short as the figure rose, a malevolent grin spreading across his face. Raising both hands, the creature's voice dropped to a menacing growl: "Bloodline craft..."

Two massive spheres of blood materialized, flattening into disc-like shapes before hurtling skyward. George tensed to dodge, then hesitated as the projectiles soared far overhead, almost disappearing from view.

"Did he miss?" George wondered aloud, unease creeping into his voice.

The figure's reply came swiftly, chilling in its finality: "Boomerang!"