Manor Of Sin 3

The air within the manor pulsed with suffocating pressure. A weight, unseen but undeniable, pressed against the bodies of those who dared to stand in defiance.

Duke Erisia exhaled, stepping out from the shattered wall, his Erisian Gauntlets shimmering in the dim light. His smirk was unshaken, but the gleam in his eyes sharpened with something resembling intrigue. He brushed dust from his shoulder, the motion eerily casual given the circumstances.

"I had assumed Etrea only sent lapdogs," he mused, his gaze shifting between the squad. "But you lot… you might actually be worth the trouble."

There was no hesitation. No words. Just action.

—BOOM!

Rajin moved first. Lightning surged down his arms, his spear crackling with raw electricity as he launched forward, his form vanishing in a blur of motion.

"Third Art: Thunderclap—Piercing Bolt!"

A thunderous crack split the air as his spear thrust forward at breakneck speed. The sheer force of his movement distorted the space around him, creating a momentary vacuum.

But before it could connect—

A gust of wind howled through the room.

Rajin's attack veered off course as an invisible force struck him mid-charge, sending him skidding across the floor. Duke Erisia hadn't moved an inch—only raised a single hand, his palm open, fingers curled slightly. The residual energy of a perfected Galebreath technique rippled through the air.

"Tch—" Rajin gritted his teeth, his muscles twitching from the backlash of his interrupted attack.

Leo didn't let the moment slip.

With a swift step, he inhaled sharply—ether flooding his lungs—then unleashed it all at once.

"Second Art: Howling Tempest!"

A spiraling torrent of wind exploded from his blade, curving toward the Duke like a coiled serpent ready to strike. It carried the force of a hurricane, bending the steel beams of the ruined chamber as it bore down on its target.

The Duke's smirk widened. With a flick of his wrist—

BOOM!

The wind split apart as if cleaved by an unseen blade, dispersing into harmless drafts. The maneuver was effortless, a testament to his mastery over Galebreath.

"Amateurs."

The moment the words left his lips, a golden arc of lightning slashed towards his exposed flank.

Velvet had closed the distance in an instant, their daggers wreathed in Thundercall, striking in a flurry of electric flashes. Their footwork was impeccable, weaving between the flickering shadows and broken pillars, every step calculated.

—CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

Duke Erisia countered each strike with nothing but the back of his gauntlets, deflecting them with an ease that was almost insulting.

Velvet's frustration spiked. Their next attack aimed straight for his throat—

—Only for their wrist to be caught mid-swing.

"Too predictable." The Duke's grip tightened like a vice, ether coiling around his fingers.

Velvet's pupils dilated. In the split second before impact, they twisted their body, a violent crack resounding as they wrenched free, narrowly avoiding having their arm shattered outright. Still, the force of his grip sent them crashing backward, rolling across the floor.

Kouneli had been waiting for that opening.

He lifted his arm, veins bulging as a deep crimson glow spread across his skin.

"Second Art: Crimson Bind!"

From his palm, tendrils of congealed blood shot forth like living chains, weaving through the air to ensnare the Duke's limbs. The moment they wrapped around him, they tightened, pulsating with life as they attempted to drain him of strength.

But—

With a mere flick of his wrist—

SHATTER!

The blood chains exploded into mist, undone by a concentrated burst of ether. Kouneli's breath hitched as the Duke turned toward him, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and disappointment.

"An interesting trick," he admitted. "But weak."

He took a step forward—

Then froze.

A deep crimson light reflected in his pupils.

Ubel stood behind him, his sword raised, fire licking at the blade's edge. He had slipped through the chaos, his presence forgotten, his killing intent suppressed to the absolute minimum.

A master of the unseen strike.

Duke Erisia had just enough time to react.

The flower-shaped sword descended.

—SHING!

A thin line of fire carved through the air where the Duke had stood a second ago. But he had moved—barely—his head tilting just enough to avoid a direct decapitation.

Ubel's eyes sharpened. He had anticipated the dodge.

Which is why his palm was already positioned beneath the swing.

"Third Art: Flame Wave."

A wave of searing fire erupted point-blank, swallowing the Duke in an inferno of scarlet and gold. The flames roared to life, hungrily consuming everything in their path, the heat alone warping the air.

For the first time, the Duke grunted.

His body was launched across the chamber, crashing into the far wall with a deafening boom.

As the flames receded, his form was revealed—smoke curling from his gauntlets, his armor slightly singed but otherwise intact. He lifted his head, exhaling slowly.

Then he chuckled.

"…Heh."

His smirk widened, but his eyes no longer held amusement. Instead, a sharp, cutting focus had settled into them, as if he had finally identified the true threat among them.

Ubel could feel it. The shift.

The Duke was no longer toying with them.

The ground trembled as a gale of ether surged around him, his Gauntlets glowing with an ominous light. His voice was almost casual as he flexed his fingers.

He stepped forward.

His aura surged—

And the battle began anew.