Malric stood a few paces from Liliana, his eyes alight with a sinister glow, his hands already guiding the blood around him into a swirling vortex. "You should have stayed gone, Liliana. The Scarlet Veil can’t protect you this time. No one can."

  Liliana didn’t flinch. “I don’t need protecting. Least of all from you.”

  Malric let out a low chuckle. “Funny. I hear that’s exactly what your sister said before she died.”

  Liliana’s expression didn’t change, but something flickered behind her eyes. She knew what he was trying to do—drag ghosts to the surface, force her to hesitate. He thought this would shake her.

  She tilted her head slightly, eyes cold. “Which one?”

  Malric just smiled.

  Liliana’s magic flared, the gem on her forehead pulsing to life. “Doesn’t matter. You’ll die just the same.”

  Malric’s sneer deepened as he thrust his hands forward. Streams of blood erupted from his fingers, twisting and turning as they shot toward her.

  Liliana’s response was swift, effortless. Her aura pulsed, expanding outward like a black wave, and the tendrils froze in mid-air, trembling. The blood hung suspended for a heartbeat, then it reversed direction, snapping back at Malric like whips, hissing through the air.

  Malric summoned a blood shield just in time, the crimson barrier shimmering in front of him. The whips collided with it, and the shield cracked under the pressure, shards of blood scattering to the ground like shattered glass. His sneer faltered, replaced with a flash of frustration.

  “Still leeching off the power of others, I see, just like your mother. Tell me, Liliana, do you actually know what you’re doing with that little trinket? Or are you just hoping it doesn’t devour you before I do?”

  “Bla, bla, bla.” Liliana rolled her eyes, her voice laced with icy indifference. “Are you done whining, or is there more?”

  “Oh, there’s more.”

  Liliana gave a slow, mocking nod. “Of course there is. You always did love the sound of your own voice. Let me guess—now comes the part where you tell me how special you are. How powerful. How I should be quaking in my boots. I’d be happy to oblige, really… but I seem to have misplaced my legs.”

  Malric’s face twisted with fury. Blood surged from the ground beneath him, gathering at his feet before morphing into two massive crimson blades. With a snarl, he hurled them at her.

  Liliana floated effortlessly to the side, easily dodging the blades, her mocking smile still in place.

  Malric’s frustration erupted into rage. His roar echoed through the streets as he slammed his hands into the pool of blood at his feet. From it he pulled a scythe, a monstrous thing dripping with dark magic.

  He charged forward, swinging in a wide arc, aiming to cleave her in two.

  Liliana’s eyes glinted with amusement as her aura pulsed again. The black energy swelled outward, and as Malric’s scythe neared, it stopped dead just inches from her face. The weapon shuddered, straining against the raw force of her magic, utterly overpowered.

  “You can’t win, Malric,” she said. “Not against me.”

  Malric refused to give up. He pulled back and swung again, but Liliana did not move. The air around her shimmered ominously, and from the shadows beneath her, jagged spears of blood and dark magic burst forth, shooting toward Malric.

  Malric barely managed to raise his blood shield, but the first wave of spears hammered into it, causing cracks to spread across its surface. The shield trembled as Malric gritted his teeth, sweat beading on his forehead.

  Then came the second wave—faster, sharper, relentless. The spears struck with devastating force, tearing through his shield like brittle glass. Cracks spiderwebbed across the barrier before it shattered completely, and the remaining projectiles found their mark.

  Malric staggered, dropping to one knee as the jagged spikes ripped through him. Blood dribbled from the corner of his mouth, his breath ragged and uneven. He dug his fingers into the ground, but he refused to fall.

  “I won’t… lose… to you…” he said, desperation in his voice as Liliana unleashed another barrage of blood spears.

  Malric activated his last resort—Blood Form. His body dissolved into a swirling crimson mist, the spears slicing harmlessly through the space where he had stood. They struck the stone wall behind him, leaving deep craters in their wake.

  Liliana smiled. “You already have.”

  She activated Dominate and seized control of the bloody mist that once made up Malric’s body. The mist quivered, straining against her hold for a fleeting moment, but resistance was futile. Her mastery over blood magic far surpassed his, and now, his very essence belonged to her.

  Malric’s voice echoed faintly from within the mist, filled with shock and terror. “No... you can't...”

  “Oh, but I can,” Liliana said. The mist began to condense, tightening under her control, forcing Malric back into a solid form, but not as he wished. His limbs contorted, his body twisted painfully as his blood refused to obey his commands.

  “No!” he screamed, his voice breaking as he realized he was utterly powerless, Liliana’s magic twisting and bending the blood inside his body to her will.

  With one final pulse of dark energy, his body collapsed inward. His bones crunched, flesh caving. Blood coiled and compressed in an instant, folding him into himself until, with a sickening squelch, he was gone.

  All that remained was a crimson stain and the faint, pitiful echo of his scream.

  Kale watched from a few paces away, his breath slow, his body tense.

  Liliana hovered above what remained of Malric, completely unshaken. The blood that once made up his form was already drifting toward her. She barely spared a glance at the stain left behind, her voice calm, detached.

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  "I offer your death in his name. May it strengthen me, and me alone."

  That was it. No goodbye. No satisfaction. Just a simple, matter-of-fact execution.

  Kale swallowed hard. Damn.

  It was the most cold-blooded thing he had ever seen. Efficient, brutal, absolute. And yet, as disturbing as it was, he couldn’t deny… it was impressive. There was no hesitation in her. No second-guessing. Just raw conviction.

  A part of him thought, I wouldn’t want to be on the other side of that.

  The other part?

  I hope she never says my name like that.

  Rika let out a low whistle, resting her warhammer on her shoulder. “Damn, Lili. That was some cold-blooded shit.”

  Liliana turned to her, unbothered. “It was necessary.”

  Rika raised a brow. “Yeah, but didn’t you guys go way back? He doesn’t even get a goodbye? No ‘see you in hell’?”

  Liliana shrugged. “He was nothing. Just another fool who thought he could stand in my way. In the end his only worth was in dying.”

  Kale exhaled, shaking his head. Brutal.

  As the tension settled, he remembered he had leveled up. It had happened in the middle of the fight, but there hadn’t been a second to check.

  Now, with Malric reduced to nothing and the battle over, he finally focused inward.

  Let’s see what I got this time.

  As he closed his eyes, he could feel it, the quiet hum of potential within him. The choice.

  Kale took a slow breath.

  It was like a deep, instinctual awareness of the paths laid before him, each option pulsing faintly within his mind. His soul, or perhaps his very essence, resonated with the decision. And as he focused, the choices revealed themselves to him.

  Three distinct options.

  [Grim Sonata: Torrent of Blood

  Infuse your strikes with the power to create endless, bleeding wounds. Every successful hit tears deep into your enemies, causing continuous blood loss over time. These wounds will bleed for an extended duration, weakening your foes as their strength and stamina drain away with every passing second. As the bleeding intensifies, your enemies become slower and more vulnerable, allowing you to capitalize on their faltering defenses. With each cut, you bring them closer to death.

  Bonus: Bleeding effects stack with each successive hit, causing increasing damage over time.]

  Relentless pressure, he thought. His enemies would weaken with each passing second, growing slower, more desperate as the blood poured from their bodies.

  [Grim Sonata: Relentless Assault

  Unleash a relentless barrage of attacks that grow stronger with each strike. As you land consecutive hits, your power and speed increase, allowing you to chain together rapid, devastating blows. Each successful strike builds momentum, turning you into an unstoppable force. The longer you fight, the deadlier you become.

  Bonus: Each hit increases attack power and speed. A finishing strike triggers after reaching maximum momentum.]

  Pure offense. It would turn him into a storm of blades, each hit amplifying the next, until nothing could stand in his path.

  [Grim Sonata: Phantom Waltz

  Move through the battlefield like a phantom, phasing through enemies as you strike. Each attack leaves behind an illusory afterimage that mimics your movements, delivering delayed strikes that confuse and disorient your enemies. With your ethereal movements, you become unpredictable and nearly impossible to hit, while your afterimages create a deadly, multi-layered assault. Your enemies won’t know where the next attack will come from

  Bonus: Afterimages deal additional delayed damage, and you can phase through enemies to avoid being blocked or trapped.]

  Illusions, misdirection, and overwhelming speed. Kale thought about phasing through his enemies, their strikes missing as his afterimages cut them from all sides.

  Kale stood in silence, weighing his options. Each ability pulsed in his mind, offering different paths, different ways to fight. Phantom Waltz was the one that immediately called to him—its fluidity, the idea of phasing through enemies and leaving behind deadly afterimages. It was everything he loved about combat: speed, unpredictability, and control. But then the thought hit him—what if his allies got caught in the crossfire? What if, in the heat of the battle, they ended up between him and one of his phantom strikes?

  He clenched his fist, imagining Rika or Liliana getting hurt because of him. No. It wasn’t worth the risk. He wouldn’t forgive himself if something happened to them because of him.

  That left Relentless Assault and Torrent of Blood.

  Relentless Assault was undeniably powerful. The idea of building momentum, becoming faster and stronger with every hit, had its appeal. But Kale wasn’t naive, he knew his own limits. He was improving, sure, dodging more, getting hit less. But he wasn’t invincible, not yet. Landing consecutive strikes without interruption was easier said than done. One misstep, one counterattack, and the momentum would be broken. The thought of leaving himself open to a fatal strike lingered in his mind. If he couldn’t keep up the tempo, he’d fall short. He wasn’t ready for that, not yet.

  And then there was Torrent of Blood.

  At first glance, it seemed like the weakest of the three, but as he thought about it, the pieces began to fall into place. It wasn’t just about him. This ability wasn’t flashy, but it had something the others didn’t: synergy. Liliana could use the blood from the wounds, her magic drawing strength from the endless flow he would create. Rika, with her brutal strength, would have an easier time crushing enemies slowed down by the constant bleeding. This wasn’t just about dealing damage, this was about control. Wearing enemies down, while at the same time empowering his allies.

  The more he thought about it, the more Torrent of Blood made sense. He could fight smart, weaving in and out, dealing cut after cut, each one weakening his opponent a little more. He didn’t need to land a killing strike right away. Death by a thousand cuts. It was safer, more calculated. Less risky than the relentless, all-or-nothing approach.

  Yes. It had to be Torrent of Blood.

  Kale exhaled, the decision settling into his bones. He felt the power shift inside him as the skill locked into place, becoming part of him. The choice was made, and with it, a new layer of lethality to his fighting style.

  He opened his eyes, looking toward Liliana and Rika.

  “Ready to move on?” Rika asked.

  Kale nodded, a small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah. Let’s go make some enemies bleed.”

  Liliana raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything.

  ***

  As they walked towards the old archives Kale glanced over at Liliana. “How do you always manage to choose so fast?” He always seemed to get stuck overthinking his options, wondering which path was right.

  “Not my first time, remember?” She replied.

  Kale nodded, the memory of her story flickering in his mind. Drained back to level one, she’d already fought her way up once, making her choices with the hard-earned knowledge of someone who had been through it all before.

  “So, you already know what’s best?” Kale asked, intrigued by how effortless it seemed for her.

  “Exactly. I’ve made all the mistakes already. Now it’s just... efficient.”

  “Must be nice.”

  She gave him a sideways glance, a flicker of amusement in her eyes. “Could be worse.”

  Kale chuckled, but before he could respond, Rika cut in with her usual grin. “So really, you should be thanking Xeroth and his minions. They gave you a do-over, and now you get to be even stronger!”

  Liliana shot her a look. “I’ll be sure to send them a thank-you note.”

  Rika’s grin widened. “Hey, credit where it’s due. Not everyone gets a second chance to crush their enemies and get a power boost.”

  Kale shook his head. “Yeah, Liliana, you should be grateful.”

  Liliana rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a small smile. “Right. Grateful for being knocked down to level one. Best thing that ever happened to me.”

  Rika shot her a wink. “Second best thing.”

  Kale smiled, glancing at Rika. “Maybe they can knock you back to level one too, give you a do-over.”

  Rika’s eyes widened in mock horror. “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” She laughed, shaking her head. “Unlike Liliana, I chose every skill perfectly the first time, no mistakes. No need for any do-overs, thank you very much.”

  Liliana raised an eyebrow. “Perfectly, huh?”

  Rika grinned. “Absolutely. Flawless decision-making from day one. It’s what I’m known for, you know. Making good decisions.”

  Kale chuckled. “Right. Of course.”

  Rika slapped him on the shoulder. “You’ll get there one day, Kaley. Don’t worry.”