The Hunter and the Hunted

The night air was still thick with the scent of fresh blood as Kellvin wiped his mouth, the warmth of his latest kill still coursing through his veins.

The rush of absorbing Blood Essence was intoxicating.

His body felt stronger, his movements sharper, his instincts deadlier.

Yet, even with this newfound power, something unsettled him.

A feeling—no, a presence.

For the last few minutes, an invisible weight had settled over him.

He was being watched.

Kellvin's Blood Vision flared to life, flooding his sight with pulses of red and gold. He scanned the rooftops, the alleys, the distant figures moving through the slums—yet, whoever was observing him remained just beyond his reach.

His eyes narrowed.

"Whoever they are… they're good."

Still, if they thought he was easy prey, they were dead wrong.

Turning on his heel, Kellvin disappeared into the darkened streets, his steps silent, his senses sharp. He wove through the labyrinth of alleyways, moving with deliberate speed, taking sharp turns to lose any unwanted pursuers.

And yet—

The feeling of being watched never faded.

His blood burned with anticipation.

If they wanted to stalk him like prey, he would turn the tables.

Kellvin darted into a narrow passage between two crumbling buildings, the walls so close that only one person could pass at a time.

A perfect trap.

He slowed his breathing, let his heart steady, and then—

He waited.

Seconds stretched into eternity.

Then—a whisper of movement.

A flicker of golden light reflected in the darkness.

There!

With explosive speed, Kellvin spun around and lunged. His hand lashed out toward the figure moving toward him—only for his wrist to be caught mid-air.

A cold, iron grip clamped around his arm.

Then, before he could react, a knee slammed into his stomach.

Pain.

Kellvin staggered back, barely keeping his balance as a shadowed figure stepped fully into view.

The stranger was tall and lean, wrapped in black, with a hood drawn low over their face. But what struck Kellvin first was their eyes—piercing golden irises, glowing faintly in the dim light.

A dangerous smirk played across the stranger's lips.

"You're fast," the voice was smooth, almost amused. "But not fast enough."

Kellvin clenched his fists. His blood was boiling with challenge.

"And who the hell are you supposed to be?" he growled.

The figure tilted their head slightly. "You can call me… Varian."

The name meant nothing to Kellvin, but the power radiating from Varian's body was undeniable.

This was no ordinary assassin.

This was a predator.

And Kellvin had no intention of being prey.

Varian moved first.

A blur of motion, faster than Kellvin expected—almost inhumanly fast.

Kellvin barely had time to react before a blade of condensed blood materialized in Varian's hand, slashing toward him.

He dodged, twisting his body just in time to avoid the deadly arc, but the force of the strike tore through the stone wall behind him.

"He's strong. Stronger than the assassin from before."

But Kellvin wasn't helpless.

Blood Dominion - First Gate.

With a flick of his wrist, Kellvin willed his own blood to respond. A thin crimson thread extended from his fingertips, forming into a curved dagger.

Varian raised an eyebrow. "Oh? You're learning fast."

Kellvin smirked. "Try and keep up."

Then he attacked.

Their weapons clashed, a storm of blood and steel ringing through the narrow alleyway. Kellvin's speed was faster than before, his strength greater, but Varian's movements were precise, calculated.

It was like fighting a shadow.

Every strike Kellvin launched was met with a perfect counter. Every dodge Varian made felt effortless.

Then—Varian vanished.

Kellvin's eyes widened. Blood Sense flared.

Above.

Too late—

Varian dropped from above, slamming a crimson-coated fist into Kellvin's chest, sending him crashing through a wooden crate.

Dust and debris exploded around him as he struggled to rise.

Varian stood over him, calm and unbothered.

"Not bad," he admitted. "But you're still unrefined. Your power is raw. Wild. You rely too much on instinct."

Kellvin wiped blood from his lips, glaring. "And you talk too much."

Varian chuckled. "You remind me of someone I once knew."

Then his smirk faded.

"You need to get stronger."

Kellvin narrowed his eyes. "And why the hell do you care?"

Varian's golden eyes glowed. "Because the Blood Trials are coming."

The air grew heavy.

The Blood Trials.

Kellvin had never heard of them, but something about the way Varian said those words made his instincts scream that they were important.

Varian turned away. "If you survive long enough, you'll understand. But for now…" He glanced back over his shoulder. "I'll be watching."

Then, in the blink of an eye—he was gone.

Kellvin stood there, breathing heavily, the words still echoing in his mind.

The Blood Trials are coming.

And whatever they were…

He had a feeling they would change everything.