The droplets transformed into blood daggers, shooting toward the Knight King with deadly precision. The king raised his shield, the daggers clashing against it with a deafening clang. Instead of deflecting, the daggers splattered against the shield, only to reform and strike again.
Van Dijk moved like a conductor in an opera, his arms swaying with an almost hypnotic rhythm. The daggers multiplied, their numbers swelling into the hundreds, then thousands. The sound of their impacts became a cacophony, a symphony of destruction that forced the Knight King to retreat step by step.
The blood weapons evolved, shifting from daggers to swords, arrows, spears, and hammers. Each weapon struck with a unique sound, creating a chaotic yet strangely harmonious melody. The king's shield buckled under the relentless assault, his once-imposing figure now struggling to hold his ground.