## Liam's Perspective
The courtyard fell silent as Dashiell's Blood Demon Technique fully manifested. His skin had turned a disturbing shade of crimson. Veins bulged across his forehead. His eyes glowed with murderous intent.
I braced myself. This was no longer the arrogant aristocrat I'd faced monts ago. This was sothing far more dangerous.
He attacked without warning. One mont he stood twenty feet away, the next his fist crashed into my chest.
The impact sent flying. I slamd through a marble pillar. Stone fragnts scattered across the lawn. Pain exploded through my body. My Saintly Body Skill absorbed most of the blow, but not all of it.
Before I could recover, Dashiell was on again. His movents were impossibly fast. Each strike felt like being hit by a freight train.
"Still think I'm overrated?" he snarled, landing another devastating blow to my ribs.
I heard sothing crack. Tasted blood in my mouth. This was bad.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Roderick Blackthorne smiling with satisfaction. Beside him, Corbin Ashworth nodded approvingly.
"The Blood Demon Technique is unbeatable," Ricardo Beaumont remarked loud enough for everyone to hear. "This Knight fellow was a fool to challenge a Blackthorne."
Dashiell seized by the throat, lifting off the ground. "Look at your precious hero now," he called out to the crowd. His voice had taken on an inhuman quality, deep and resonant.
My vision began to blur. I clawed at his hand, but his grip was like iron.
"You're nothing," he hissed in my ear. "A nobody who got lucky. Did you really think you could stand against generations of cultivated power? Against ?"
He slamd into the ground. The impact created a crater beneath my body. Pain radiated through every nerve. I struggled to breathe.
Dashiell stepped back, arms spread wide for the audience. "Is this not what you ca to see? The pretender put in his place!"
The aristocrats cheered. The reporters kept filming, though many looked uncomfortable at the brutality they were witnessing.
I pushed myself to my knees, spitting blood onto the grass. My body felt broken, but my resolve remained intact.
"Is that all you've got?" I wheezed.
Dashiell's smug expression faltered. "You still have fight in you? Impressive. Pointless, but impressive."
He approached slowly, savoring the mont. "When I'm done with you, I'll take special care of Isabelle. She'll learn to appreciate a real man."
Sothing snapped inside . Not a bone or muscle, but sothing deeper. A dam holding back power I'd been afraid to fully embrace.
"You will never touch her," I growled.
The Dragon pendant against my chest grew hot. Energy surged through my veins, raw and primal. My vision sharpened, the world becoming crystal clear. I felt my eyes change, knew they were now glowing crimson.
The Divine Dragon Power was awakening.
I rose to my feet. The pain didn't disappear, but it no longer mattered. Energy crackled across my skin, golden light shot through with streaks of red.
"What is this?" Dashiell stepped back, confusion breaking through his arrogance.
I didn't answer. Instead, I moved. My fist connected with his jaw before he could react. The impact sent him careening across the courtyard, crashing through a stone table.
The crowd gasped in collective shock.
"Impossible," Erson Hols whispered.
Dashiell staggered to his feet, wiping blood from his mouth. "A lucky hit. Nothing more."
I was on him before he finished speaking. My movents were fluid, precise, powered by sothing beyond my normal capabilities. Each strike landed with devastating force. His Blood Demon skin cracked under my assault.
Fear replaced confidence in his eyes. He tried to counterattack, but I was everywhere and nowhere. His blood-red aura began to dim as my golden-red light grew brighter.
"This can't be happening," Roderick Blackthorne shouted. "Dashiell, use your full power!"
Always read at the source—*.
Dashiell's face contorted with rage and desperation. He gathered his remaining energy for a massive strike. I caught his fist mid-swing. The collision of energies sent shockwaves rippling across the courtyard.
I squeezed, feeling bones crack beneath my grip. Dashiell howled in pain.
"You threatened the woman I love," I said, my voice unnaturally calm. "That was your biggest mistake."
I released his crushed hand, then delivered a palm strike to his chest. The blow sent him flying. He crashed into the wall of the villa, leaving a Dashiell-shaped imprint in the stone.
The red glow of his Blood Demon Technique flickered and faded. He slumped to the ground, bleeding and broken.
The courtyard fell silent. No one could believe what they were witnessing.
I turned toward Isabelle. Her eyes were wide, filled with wonder and concern.
"It's over," I called out. "I'm taking Isabelle with . Anyone who tries to stop us will end up like him."
Dashiell's laughter cut through the silence. Ragged, desperate, tinged with madness.
"Over?" he croaked, struggling to his feet. "This isn't over until I say it is."
Blood stread down his face. One arm hung uselessly at his side. Yet his eyes blazed with newfound determination.
"You think you've won?" he spat. "You've forced my hand, that's all. Now witness the true power of the Blackthorne legacy!"
He raised his good arm toward the sky. His voice changed, becoming deeper, older sohow. Words in an ancient language spilled from his lips.
The sky darkened. Clouds swirled overhead, turning blood red. A chill wind whipped through the courtyard.
"What is he doing?" soone cried out.
A figure pushed through the crowd. Blaise Rostova, the renowned weapons master. Her face had gone pale.
"He's summoning the Full Moon Demon Blade," she announced, her voice tight with fear. "Bryce Blackthorne's legendary technique. I've only seen it once before."
"What does that an?" I demanded, never taking my eyes off Dashiell.
"It ans we're all in danger," she replied. "The blade doesn't distinguish between friend and foe. It consus everything in its path."
Above us, the blood-red clouds parted. A massive blade began to materialize, its edge gleaming with malevolent light. The air itself seed to scream as the weapon took shape.
Dashiell's eyes had gone completely black. "DIE!" he roared.
The blade started its descent, cutting through reality itself. I gathered my remaining strength, preparing to et this new threat. The Dragon pendant burned against my skin, responding to the imminent danger.
The massive blade fell toward , trailing crimson light in its wake. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. I had only one option.
I faced the approaching weapon head-on, refusing to back down. Win or lose, I would et my fate on my feet.
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