The air ripped apart.
BLOOD. EVERYWHERE.
In an instant, the room was drowned in carnage.
Before the Skinwalkers could even process what happened—they were being torn apart.
Their own blood twisted into shape, forming dozens of identical clones of the vampire, their glowing red eyes filled with nothing but murderous intent.
"Wha—"
The clones moved.
Flesh ripped.
Bones shattered.
Limbs were ripped from their sockets.
The clones moved with inhuman precision, overwhelming the Skinwalkers like an unstoppable wave of death.
Bodies burst apart, organs spilling across the floor.
Within seconds, half the Skinwalkers were reduced to mangled corpses—their bodies still twitching from the sheer speed of their slaughter.
The battle had already ended for them.
But for the Noble Skinwalker—it had just begun.
He barely dodged as the real vampire lunged at him.
Fangs bared.
Eyes glowing.
Unrelenting.
The two collided, a shockwave blasting through the already ruined mansion.
Their battle shook the ground.
Fists met claws.
Blood splattered against the walls.
Their movements blurred, too fast for any human to follow.
The Noble Skinwalker sneered, baring his sharp teeth.
"I see it now… You're an outcast, aren't you? A disgrace to your kind."
The vampire didn't reply. He didn't need to.
Because in that moment—his fangs were ready to sink into the Skinwalker's throat.
And the real massacre began.
The moment their fists connected, the entire mansion shook.
The Noble Skinwalker grinned, twisting mid-air, narrowly dodging the vampire's next strike. His elongated claws gleamed under the bloodstained moonlight as he slashed at his opponent's side—only to hit nothing but an afterimage.
Hoo... he's fast—!
Before he could react, a knee slammed into his gut, sending a shockwave rippling through his body. His vision blurred, pain bursting through his core as he was launched through three walls, his body crashing into the streets outside.
But before the dust could settle—
WHOOSH.
He was already back on his feet, wounds closing almost instantly, his crest glowing with a sinister blue light.
The Skinwalker licked the blood from his lips, his jagged teeth gleaming in the crimson moonlight.
"Not bad."
His body morphed grotesquely—his muscles bulging, his arms elongating into sickle-like weapons. The crest stretched all over its body as it flared, sending out a shockwave of sheer malice that rattled the entire mansion.
"You're quick, I'll give you that." His voice slithered through the air, filled with dark amusement. "Let's see if you're still smiling when I tear your spine out."
The Skinwalker vanished, appearing directly in front of the vampire. His claws tore through the air, fast enough to split steel—
The vampire tilted his head ever so slightly, the deadly claws missed his throat by a hair's breadth.
The Skinwalker's pupils shrank.
A blinding impact.
The vampire's elbow struck like a cannon, crushing into the Skinwalker's ribs with enough force to send shockwaves through the air. Bones snapped like brittle twigs, sending him crashing into the ground with a deafening BOOM.
The ground cratered.
Blood spilled from the Skinwalker's mouth, but he didn't stop. He lunged again, this time from behind, growing another set of arms mid-strike, struck the vampire— landed a direct hit
The vampire's chest split open, dark blood splattering the floor in a sickening spray.
"You bare the mark but you're just an impersonation after all. Pathetic." The skinwalker mocked.
But as the Skinwalker blinked, he realized it had all been an illusion—his attack had never actually landed on the vampire.
A cold breath against his ear.
"Did you enjoy that short fleeting victory?" the vampire sneered, a devilish grin stretching across his face. "Because that's the only way you'll ever defeat me—in your imagination."
Before the Skinwalker could process his words, the vampire vanished. A split second later—CRACK. His face was slammed into the floor with bone-shattering force.
The Skinwalker's blood ran cold.
"You… BASTARD." He roared, but his voice shook—not from rage. From fear.
The vampire's hand shot forward, piercing the Skinwalker's chest like a blade through silk. Blood sprayed as he wrenched the still-beating heart free, its rhythmic pulsing a grotesque counterpoint to the Skinwalker's choked gasps.
"You're too weak," the vampire murmured, his voice colder than the abyss beneath them. "A clone shouldn't play at being a king. Going all out on you would be a waste."
"I expected nothing less from a Noble."
The real Noble Skinwalker emerged, standing at a distance, his smirk unfazed. "I'm not so stupid as to fight against a Noble. You seem odd that's why I even bothered with a clone but as expected, you saw through it." he mused, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Hiding that immense power to taunt me into thinking I had a chance," His eyes narrowed. "Not very vampire-like."
Shadows engulfed the floor beneath the skinwalker. "The meeting was short, but this is where I bid you farewell."
The Skinwalker immediately tried to disappear—but he couldn't move.
His smirk faded.
His feet were stuck.
He looked down,
A massive pool of crimson stretched beneath his feet, rippling unnaturally, like a portal to the abyss.
"This technique…!"
The blood began to take shape—dozens of hands clawing upward, grabbing at his legs, creeping up his torso like they were alive.
The vampire's crimson eyes gleamed as he murmured, "It is a connection between worlds that I created myself. The greater your sin, the darker the torment."
The hands gripped him tighter. He struggled, but the more he fought, the deeper he sank into the sea of blood.
"My brethren have taken note of this... they'll come for y—!"
His voice cut off.
His body was dragged into the abyss.
The last thing he saw was the vampire's cold, amused smile.
"Oh, and say hi to my alter ego for me."
But he was gone.
"Guess you can't hear me again..."
The battlefield was silent. The vampire exhaled. The fight was over.
His gaze fell upon Max and his family, their bodies broken, their breath shallow. He could hear their heartbeat slowly fade.
For a moment, he hesitated. Then—he made a small incision in his own wrist.
A single drop of his blood fell into Max's mouth.
The wounds began to fade. One after the other, he fed them his blood. His gaze lingered on the small boy—Max Junior which reminded him of his son. He watched his slowly fading breath turn to snore, he was fast asleep.
He sighed, ruffling the kid's hair.
Then, without another word, he vanished into the night.