Blood trickled down his chin, burning his skin with scorching drops. Reinhardt coughed, his chest tightening painfully, but he refused to show weakness. Taking a sharp step back, he yanked the blade from his stomach, leaving a crimson trail behind. The wound burned, his insides felt like they were ablaze in hellfire, but he wouldn't let the pain consume his mind.
— What the hell… — he thought hoarsely, gripping the hilt of his sword.
His eyes locked onto the figure standing before him.
Silivan… no, this was no longer the man he had just been fighting. A dark aura enveloped his body, dense and oppressive like primordial darkness. The wound on his chest, the one Reinhardt had inflicted just minutes ago, had closed, covered by a murky haze, like thickening mist. Red eyes flared with murderous hunger, his face contorted into a mad grin. Swollen veins surfaced across his body, as if filled with black liquid.
Reinhardt smirked, despite the pain.
— Hah… Now he truly looks like a killer.
But he couldn't afford to relax.
Focusing, he activated his aura, channeling it through his veins to constrict the blood vessels and halt the bleeding. A wave of heat spread inside him, mixed with sharp pain, but the blood stopped flowing, and his body regained some strength.
— I won't be able to maintain this technique for long, — the thought flickered through his mind. — It drains too much mana, and holding my concentration in this state is even harder.
Silivan breathed heavily, like a wild beast. His shoulders rose and fell, his lips stretched into a manic smile, steam escaping from his mouth as if he were burning from within.
— Damn it… — the assassin knight's voice was low and rasping, filled with hatred. — Even if I die soon from using this technique, I will take you with me—no matter the cost!
And then—he vanished.
Reinhardt didn't even catch the moment it happened. Just a fraction of a second—and emptiness. No sound, no shift in the air, nothing. Only a perfectly honed, death-dealing technique, refined through years of relentless training.
His instincts screamed in alarm.
He dodged instantly, his muscles tensed to their absolute limit. His right hand shot up instinctively, raising his sword.
The clash of metal and a shower of sparks.
A blinding flash of light erupted across the arena as their blades collided.
Reinhardt felt the shockwave rip through his body. His arm throbbed in pain, his fingers briefly going numb.
— He's gotten stronger. Much stronger.
Faster. And even his aura… it's not the same as before.
Even his aura now felt far more powerful, as if it were devouring the very life force around it.
Reinhardt gritted his teeth.
— He's using a technique that consumes life energy in exchange for strength…
His eyes flicked around, quickly analyzing the battlefield.
— That means he won't last long…
But then—
A chill ran down his spine.
His heart clenched, his muscles tensed to the breaking point.
Danger. Unconcealed and absolute.
Reinhardt froze, focusing on every sound, every shift in the air around him.
He felt it—an attack was coming.
But from where...?