The air in the throne room was thick with an oppressive energy, a palpable weight that pressed against Baines’ chest as he stood at the threshold.
If the Darkan warriors he had once faced bore hair that seed to blaze with the ferocity of fire, the figures before him now were sothing far more unsettling. Their hair was a deep, blood-red hue, as if dyed by the essence of life itself, shimring faintly under the dim, crimson-tinted light that filtered through the cracked skylights above.
The comparison to the Darkan felt inadequate, almost laughable, as Baines’ sharp eyes scanned the room.
Just the man standing beside the door. His presence radiated a power that rivaled the Imperial Commander Baines had once glimpsed in the sky.
And then there was the woman seated on the throne. She was a vision of regal terror, her blood-red hair sweeping the floor like a river of gore, and her eyes gleaming with unfathomable power.
Baines’ instincts scread to flee as he assessed her strength. ’At least Saint level,’ he thought, his jaw tightening.
The realization made his stomach churn, not out of fear, but from the sheer absurdity of the power before him.
He ignored the cheers of the blood-red-haired figures lining the hall, their voices a cacophony of reverence and excitent, and muttered under his breath, ’Are they going to kill ? or sothing.’
As if on cue, the woman on the throne raised a slender hand, and the room fell into an eerie silence.
Her voice, light as a whisper yet carrying the weight of a command, reached Baines’ ears. "You have co."
The words sent a jolt through his body, his blood surging in response, not in anger, but in an instinctive, primal reaction to her presence.
It was as though her voice alone could command his very life force, as if his blood would tear itself from his veins to obey her.
Baines gritted his teeth, his mind racing. ’Does this strength even make sense?’ He forced his voice to remain steady as he asked, "Are you going to kill ?"
The woman blinked, her expression one of genuine surprise. The crowd mirrored her reaction, their faces a mixture of shock and amusent, before they erupted into laughter.
The sound echoed off the stone walls, a chilling contrast to the tension in Baines’ body. "Kill you?" the woman said, her voice lilting with a giggle that felt both innocent and nacing. She leaned forward slightly, a light smile playing on her lips. "How can we kill the perfect one?"
Baines’ eyes narrowed, his suspicion deepening. "I’m not going to beco anyone’s successor or whatever you’re planning, so just kill ," he spat, his tone defiant. He had no intention of being a pawn in their sches, whatever they might be.
The woman tilted her head, her amusent growing. "Who said I want anything from you?" she asked, her voice dripping with playful curiosity.
Baines frowned, his mind racing. ’What does she want? And perfect one? Is she talking about sacrificing ?’ The thought sent a shiver down his spine, but before he could dwell on it, the woman’s expression shifted.
"And since you really want to die so badly, I can grant you that wish." She snapped her fingers with a casual flick of her wrist.
BANG!
The force hit Baines like a tidal wave, flinging him across the room like a broken kite caught in a storm.
His body slamd into the far wall, the impact sending a shockwave of pain through his bones. "Urgh!" he grunted, shaking his head to clear the dizziness as he staggered to his feet.
The woman on the throne smiled, her eyes glinting with interest. "Oh, you reacted to that?" she said, gesturing with her hand for the assault to continue.
Baines’ mind reeled as he tried to make sense of the attack. ’What was that? A punch or a mountain?’ He had reacted instinctively, thanks to his recent training , but the sheer weight of the blow had caught him off guard.
His body ached as he stood, his gaze locking onto his opponent. It was a towering figure with blood energy rippling around him like a crimson aura.
The man massaged his fists, a smug smile on his face as he advanced. Baines’ eyes narrowed as he assessed the man’s power. 7th star.
"Is it fucking funny?" Baines snarled, his aura sharpening as the air around him began to tinge with the scent of decay.
He knew his raw power wouldn’t be enough, not against a 7th star. With a swift motion, he sheathed the demon blade and the moonfang, reaching instead for the bladeless sword at his side.
The mont his fingers closed around the hilt, a surge of energy coursed through him.
BOOOM!
His aura towered as he unleashed Ashenfall. The violet energy crackled and exploded with destructive intent.
The man faltered, his confident smile replaced by a frown as the dangerous energy filled the room. However, the woman on the throne further leaned forward, her curiosity piqued. "You had sothing like this too?" she murmured, her voice a mix of intrigue and delight.
The crowd fell silent, their cheers replaced by a collective gulp as they felt the threat of Baines’ power.
They exchanged glances, their excitent reigniting as they began to cheer even louder.
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
Their perfect choice had just beco more perfect in their eyes.
But Baines wasn’t listening.
His focus was solely on the bladeless sword, its hilt trembling as he channeled all of his Ashenfall into it.
The violet energy surged, the sword glowing with an otherworldly light. ’He can regenerate with blood energy, so soul energy should work directly on his soul, Ashenfla can bypass causality, cleave will cut through, and Torrential Slash will extend the blade,’ Baines calculated in the blink of an eye. He drew the sword, the air humming with its resonance.
Srng...
The sound of the sword’s resonance filled the room, cutting through the cheers like a blade through flesh.
The woman on the throne was no longer seated, she stood at the foot of the throne steps, her eyes wide with anticipation.
She wanted to see this attack, to witness its power firsthand.
Draw Cut.
Slash...
The movent was too fast for eyes to follow, the sound of the strike lagging behind its execution. Baines stumbled as he swung, blood pooling in his mouth as he coughed, his body straining under the imnse power he had unleashed.
A long, deep gash tore through the floor, stretching from his feet to the base of the throne steps, the wound burning with black flas. The crowd turned to see the fate of Baines’ opponent.
He was gone. No ashes, no remains, just the black flas of Ashenfall flickering in his wake.
The throne room fell silent, the weight of what had just happened sinking in. Eyes widened in shock.
How had Baines stopped the man’s regeneration? How had he carved through the throne room itself? The crowd struggled to find a word beyond "perfect." They settled on another: Perfection.
Then, as if a dam had broken, the crowd erupted into laughter and cheers, their voices echoing with unrestrained joy.
Baines, however, was focused inward. He could feel the difference in his power, the growth he had achieved through his relentless training. His Void Steps, Absolute Cut, and Destruction had all improved, and the cleave he had just perford was proof of that progress.
The strike had torn through the second floor of the throne room, a testant to his newfound strength. And before he could say anything,
"Co."
The woman’s voice pulled him forward, and before he could react, he was standing before her.
Now he was closer, her presence was like a mountain, towering over him despite her smaller stature.
"So, you didn’t want to die in the end," she said, her light smile tinged with knowing amusent. Baines didn’t respond, his mind still reeling from the battle.
"Since you began the test, we watched you," she continued, her voice soft yet commanding. "Rather, your life. The decisions you made, the things you’ve done, and your plans, we watched them all." Baines’ eyes widened, a mix of shock and anger flashing across his face, but she didn’t give him a chance to speak.
"We know you don’t want to be anyone’s successor. You just want revenge, right? Even if the world burns as a result." She turned and ascended the steps to her throne, her movents graceful yet deliberate. "That is why we have chosen you to carry our will. It’s the least you could do, considering you have our clan’s relic sword." She pointed at his wrist, where the demon blade rested.
Baines’ mind raced. ’Demon blade?’ He had always wondered why it had worked on the book, but now it made sense, it belonged to this clan.
But she had called it a sword, not a dagger. Before he could question her, she spoke again. "We aren’t imposing anything on you. Just doing what you are already doing is carrying our will. I can’t wait to see what you will achieve." Her gaze lingered on him, intense and unreadable, before she snapped her fingers once more. "Begin the Blood Rebirth."
"Blood wha—" Baines’ words were cut off as a torrent of blood engulfed him, just like the first ti he had encountered this clan.
His vision went black, his senses overwheld by the tallic scent and the suffocating weight of the liquid.
The crowd closed in, their hands outstretched as they began to chant in an ancient, indecipherable tongue. The blood surrounding Baines began to swirl, wrapping around his body and seeping into his skin like a living entity.
The engraving on his hand, the mark of the demon blade trembled violently, and the blade itself erged, greedily devouring the blood entering Baines.
Hours passed and the blood continously pouring into him without cease.
A low rumble filled the air as the throne room itself began to dissolve, transforming into a crimson tide that joined the blood entering his body. The crowd followed, their forms lting into the pool, and finally, the woman on the throne dissolved into the blood, her essence rging with the rest.
When the process was complete, the throne room stood empty, save for Baines and two mysterious objects left beside him. His body humd with a new, unfamiliar power, the Blood Rebirth complete.
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