Chapter 50: The aftermath of blood
The battlefield was eerily silent, save for the soft, windless whisper of Kaelen's labored breaths. His heart thundered in his chest as he stood above the fallen form of Lorian, the Primogenitor, the ancient blood master who had once seemed invincible. Now, there was only the dying echo of his power. The earth was soaked with the crimson fluid, blood cascading from every gash, every tear in the nightmarish skin. It was as if the very soil drank from the wound that the Primogenitor had left in the world.
Kaelen's body was battered, his form hunched and worn with exhaustion, his flesh aching from the blows he had absorbed in the fight. His hands trembled, but he refused to drop his weapon—the Abyssal Night sword. It had tasted victory tonight, and its dark hum seemed to pulse in time with his own heartbeat, the connection between them now undeniable.
With a strained breath, Kaelen staggered forward, dragging his sword behind him. His gaze remained fixed on Lorian, who lay broken on the ground, his once-imposing presence now diminished, fragile. The ancient vampire's blood pooled around him, a vivid contrast against the darkness of the night. Kaelen stepped closer, ignoring the agony in his limbs as his footfalls disturbed the bloody soil beneath him.
"I have waited so long for this moment," Kaelen whispered, his voice rasping but triumphant. The words hung heavy in the air as he knelt beside the Primogenitor. Lorian's eyes flickered, weak, but his gaze still held a trace of defiance.
"You think… this is victory?" Lorian rasped, his voice a gurgle of blood. "You… don't understand. *You can never win*."
Kaelen's lips curled into a cruel smirk, his bloodied face illuminated by the flickering light of the moon. "You were right about one thing. I didn't understand. But I understand now."
Without another word, he lifted the Abyssal Night sword, the blade humming with anticipation as he prepared to deliver the final blow. But before he could strike, something flickered in Lorian's eyes—a faint smirk, one last spark of defiance.
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Suddenly, the ground trembled beneath Kaelen's feet. It was as if the earth itself was recoiling from the violence that had unfolded upon it. The blood around Lorian's form surged, pulling itself together in an impossible, unnatural motion, as if the very essence of the Primogenitor's existence was refusing to let go. Kaelen froze, his senses on high alert. The air had changed—charged with an oppressive force that was heavier than before.
Then, from the blood itself, Lorian's body began to shift. The Primogenitor's body twisted, bones snapping and reforming as the blood coalesced into a grotesque, monstrous shape. Kaelen took a step back, his mind racing. This wasn't over. It couldn't be.
Lorian's body reformed into a towering figure, his bloodied visage now an unholy form, his features elongated and distorted. His mouth stretched impossibly wide, revealing rows of jagged, razor-sharp teeth. His hands grew large and clawed, his skin a shade of darkness Kaelen had never seen. The very air crackled with an intense pressure, a force that threatened to crush him with its weight.
"You should have finished me," Lorian's voice rumbled, now a deep, guttural growl, his eyes glowing with an infernal fire. "But now… you will face the true power of the Primogenitor."
Kaelen's eyes narrowed. **This was the reason for the arrogance**, the reason Lorian had not feared him before. This form was no longer just a vampire. This was something ancient, something that transcended the limits of Kaelen's understanding. **The blood magic that birthed him had no equal.**
Kaelen's grip tightened on his sword as he steeled himself. **I've come this far. I won't let this beast stand in my way.**
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Lorian lunged with terrifying speed, his claws swiping through the air like jagged blades. Kaelen barely managed to dodge, his vampiric speed allowing him to leap back just in time. But the wind from Lorian's strike sent his body tumbling across the ground. Before he could recover, the air was filled with a dark energy that slammed into him with enough force to knock him to his knees.
Kaelen gritted his teeth, his vision spinning as he struggled to regain his footing. Lorian's laughter echoed in the night as the vampire towered over him, his blood-churning power overwhelming the very earth beneath them.
"You are nothing," Lorian mocked, his voice a thunderous roar that seemed to rattle Kaelen's very soul. "You think you can surpass me? You have no idea what true power is!"
Kaelen's blood boiled in his veins, his hatred for the Primogenitor rising to a fever pitch. This fight was far from over. He wasn't just fighting for his life anymore. He was fighting for everything—the world, his destiny, his ambition.
With a snarl, Kaelen surged to his feet, his sword held high. He called upon the Abyssal Night sword's full power, drawing on the depths of his dark magic. The blade hummed with an energy so intense that it threatened to tear the fabric of reality itself.
Lorian's monstrous form reared back, readying another attack. Kaelen had no time to waste.
With a roar, he swung the Abyssal Night sword. The blade cleaved through the air like a bolt of lightning, trailing dark energy in its wake. It collided with Lorian's outstretched claws in a deafening explosion of power.
The ground cracked beneath them, and for a moment, time seemed to freeze. The clash between their forces created a shockwave that sent rocks and debris scattering in every direction. Kaelen could feel the air itself bending around them, the sheer intensity of their conflict warping the space between them.
But as the smoke began to clear, Kaelen saw it—Lorian's monstrous form, bleeding, weakened, but still standing.
He couldn't let up. Not now.
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Kaelen fought with everything he had, his strikes swift and precise, his magic roaring to life with each swing. The sword felt like an extension of his very being, its power syncing with the dark essence of his vampiric nature. He could feel it now—the connection between them, a bond that only grew stronger with each strike.
Lorian roared in defiance, but his movements were sluggish. Blood dripped from his wounds, and his once-imposing form seemed to be unraveling. Kaelen's resolve hardened. **I've come too far to fail now.**
With one final strike, Kaelen drove the Abyssal Night sword deep into Lorian's chest, piercing through the heart of the Primogenitor.
Lorian's roar echoed across the battlefield, a final scream of defiance before his body crumbled, disintegrating into blood and ash. The monstrous form dissipated, and the last remnants of Lorian's power melted into the ground.
Kaelen stood, breathing heavily, his body trembling from the effort. His clothes were soaked in blood—some of it his own, but most of it Lorian's. The fight had taken everything from him. And yet, even as the victory settled into his bones, there was a hollow feeling inside him. **What now?**
He had killed the Primogenitor. The world had shifted beneath his feet. But for all his power, all his ambition, Kaelen couldn't escape the gnawing question that remained. **What comes after?**
As the night drew on and the battle came to a close, Kaelen stood alone amidst the silence, the weight of the victory and its consequences sinking in. There was no one left to challenge him now—except himself.
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