A giant fist slamd Vladimir’s body against the wall, his greatsword pressed against his chest with one hand, and the other gripped his hilt tightly.
"Damned brute!"
He growled and pushed the Tyrant’s claw back.
With a grunt, he summoned the surrounding blood from dead monsters, and demons swirled around his blade, forming a beautiful blood fla. His counter knocked the massive demon back several steps.
"Follow , Epsilon!"
"Yes, Ma’am!"
A dozen maids rushed forward like rabid dogs and lunged at the Tyrant, using their claws and teeth to cling to its hardened flesh like burnt iron. They ripped and tore at the dazed Tyrant like rabid dogs, not caring for their looks, deanour or lives.
’These little girls, how much stronger will they grow in this battle?’
"Blood Knights, support those won! Protect their lives." Vladimir’s low voice shattered the air with a powerful booming shockwave.
Vladimir gripped his greatsword. He glanced across the chaotic ruins left after this monster appeared, which seed depressing. Yet, from the mont this monster appeared, the gate that devoured Nikolai beca more transparent and tangible—reforming as if to support the huge Tyrant.
The knights looked stunned for a mont before all taking a stance and nodding.
"Yes, My Lord!"
Like a flurry of blood, they rushed at the Tyrant, who began swatting the maids like flies. A single flick of his arm crushed four against a building. The force crumbled the stone and their bodies as they dropped without power.
Da-Da-Da!
Four Blood Knights held the powerless bodies, each maid glancing up at the rather handso, black-haired males with an intense blood aura.
At first, they were confused, but gradually, the knights began to form a defensive wall.
This ti it wasn’t just for show.
"Knights, Shields up! Protect the maidens." Pierre stood at the head, his hand wrapped around Cleopatra’s waist, as she blushed slightly. The Tyrant almost snapped her neck as it pinched her tightly.
That’s when the handso knight sliced from the Tyrant’s shoulder to its thumb, releasing her from likely death.
"Thank you for the support, Sir Knight."
"Lady, can you still fight?" Pierre wasn’t arrogant, although the maids might lack purity; he’d seen their ferocious and valiant attacks for the past hour. He knew their blood swords couldn’t kill this thing alone.
As the Tyrant thrashed, missing an eye from the sneak attack of a small 5ft tall maid, who rolled across the floor, they managed to regroup.
"We will fight to the end, however. Let those three rest for ten minutes. Then their bodies will recover to the maximum state."
Pierre’s eyes widened, a mixture of shock and awe. "As expected, the recovery speed of werewolves surpasses even us vampires."
This ti it was Cleo’s turn to be stun locked.
Since their clans barely interacted other than fighting over things for the past hundred years. Neither of them realised just how strong or useful the other would be as an ally. The elitist days of the vampires ended with the crowning of Vladimir and his daughters.
But it was only in this mont that the two sides actually felt the lack of prejudice.
"Your na was Pierre?"
"Yes, and the Maidens?"
"Cleopatra, call Cleo. Now, what do you have planned?"
Her desire to save Nikolai surpassed all other things; and killing this Tyrant seed like the most obvious plan. Because the more damage they dealt, the more visible the gate portal, which Nikolai entered, was restored.
Vladimir stepped forward and glanced at the two rows of Blood Knights, Werewolf maids and then the SSS, who, despite their injuries, tried to hold off the remaining imps and dogs with the Volkov reinforcents.
"Leave the plan to , young werewolf. I will trust you and your kin with the final blow."
"Understood!"
"Phew." Pierre watched his master, the vampire who made him into a knight, despite his many failures. Vladimir held great importance in his heart. To save his daughters, he risked everything, all on how the rival clan would take what happened.
Pierre respected Vladimir, so when he gave the order to fight.
He asked no questions, only faced the enemy.
"Blood Knights, form a line, your job is to endure, to create an opening, whittle this thing down for the werewolves to deal a lasting blow!"
"Yes, My Lord!"
"You heard him, Epsilon. He’s the father-in-law of our master. Follow his plan!"
"Yes, Ma’am!"
Maybe for the first ti since the great war against the dark ones, vampires and werewolves joined forces against a great adversary.
.
.
.
anwhile, in Hell.
Deng!
Deng!
Nikolai’s spear clashed with a tal cleaver. His body twisted in the air as he sorsaulted, kicking off the Tyrant’s face with a boom. The blow flung the monster back five steps, while soaring into the air, with a rapid spin.
Nikolai landed in a crouch, red sand exploding outward as his claws bit deep into the ground. His muscles scread, but his grin only widened as the Tyrant skidded backwards, its blade carving a massive wave while dragging behind it.
Boom!
The Tyrant planted its foot and stopped itself, cracking the earth beneath. Its single remaining eye burned with rage as black vapour surged violently from its wounds.
[YOU DARE—]
Deng!
Nikolai vanished.
The cleaver smashed downward, pulverising the ground where he had been standing a fraction of a second ago. Before the shockwave settled, Nikolai reappeared at the Tyrant’s flank, spear driving forward like a bolt of lightning.
Crack!
The blade punched through hardened flesh and scraped bone, black fire erupting as the Tyrant roared and twisted away. Nikolai didn’t chase imdiately. He slid backwards, boots carving arcs through the sand, breathing hard.
’Its power’s dropping.’
The black mist surrounding the Tyrant flickered again, thinning with each exchange.
The monster snarled and charged.
Boom!
Their bodies collided, brute force against brute force. The impact shattered the ground beneath them, a crater forming as shockwaves rippled outward. Nikolai’s heels sank deep into the sand as the Tyrant pressed down with its full weight, cleaver scraping against the spear shaft, sparks and black flas bursting between them.
Nikolai no longer dodged his blows, facing them head-on. He stepped into the blow, his muscles swelling as if they might pop, as the cleaver slamd down. Nikolai growled and twisted his wrists, redirecting the cleaver just enough to slide past his neck. Sparks burst across his cheeks like a firework show, while the Tyrant lumbered above him, yet Nikolai’s spear shifted further to the side.
Clang!
The cleaver slipped, sending the Tyrant off balance.
Nikolai deflected and parried the blow!
He quickly poured aura into his legs, and leapt into the air, with a ferocious grin. With a savage headbutt, Nikolai smashed his skull into the Tyrant’s face. The sound was wet and hollow. The Tyrant staggered while completely stunned, and Nikolai took the opening.
He stabbed his knee upward.
Vwoom!
All of his power as a werewolf who was about to transform into an Ancient!
The wind snapped, howled and ford blades. Nikolai’s fierce blow caved the Tyrant’s ribs inward and lifted it off the ground. Nikolai landed, twirling his spear, before he leapt once again, like a silver flash, he stabbed again and again, each thrust driven by raw hostility and montum rather than technique.
The Tyrant slamd into the sand, skidding across the battlefield.
[ENOUGH!]
Black mist surged desperately into its body, patching wounds, reinforcing muscle—but the flow was unstable, fraying as Nikolai inhaled sharply and tore more energy from the air.
His three hearts thundered.
Boom.
Boom.
Boom.
The spear shuddered in his grip.
Nikolai charged forward, his body bouncing like a beast.
Each step detonated the ground beneath him as he closed the distance in an instant. He kicked off the ground, jumping several tres, tapping the Tyrant’s shoulder with his foot, and shot further, twisting midair, spear held overhead.
"For Hell’s king, you’re too damn weak!"
He brought the spear down with every ounce of his remaining strength. Nikolai might have absorbed twice his total power before the fight, but after facing hundreds, thousands of enemies, that power and energy were spent.
Running on fus, he sliced through the air.
The cleaver t it head-on.
Deng!
Beautiful silver sparks fluttered like butterflies in the sky.
And for a mont, neither Nikolai nor the Tyrant moved, as if neither won.
Then cracks spread across the cleaver’s surface.
The Tyrant’s eye widened.
Shatter!
The cleaver exploded into fragnts of blackened tal and flesh.
The Tyrant scread.
Nikolai’s montum and blade didn’t stop. They couldn’t! He drove the spear with all his might, down, straight and through the monster’s chest. He slamd towards the ground, impaling the Tyrant to the ground. "It’s over." A sudden burst of flas leaked from Nikolai’s body, and his eyes beca jet black. The black flas erupted violently, devouring flesh as the Tyrant thrashed, clawing uselessly at the weapon buried inside it.
Nikolai leaned in close, blood dripping from his fangs.
"It looks like Hell chose ."
He dragged his spear back and swung it in a whirlwind, beheading the Tyrant.
Imdiately, a burst of darkness spewed from the Tyrant’s chest like a geyser, which held itself in for a millennium.
This dark, sticky energy shot into the sky, creating what resembled a tree of gooey ink, before the branches drooped and instead of returning to the tower in the distance. All of it poured down like rain onto Nikolai, who leaned against his spear.
"To the winner go the spoils, eh? What a brutal and uncaring master."
Nikolai wondered what kind of existence ruled hell, to abandon the creatures fighting for it and favour the victor.
It wasn’t sothing he could do.
"Especially knowing we are enemies..."
As the ink-black rain painted his body and sank into his flesh, Nikolai’s eyes slowly closed, and his body leaned back.
Much to the demon’s delight, he’d really reached his limit.
Thousands of demons rushed at the delicious al waiting for them. This much demonic energy could allow them to evolve!
Like a tidal wave of flesh, they rushed to devour him.
And just as they were about to reach him, the plasma from the eyes, the fangs of the dogs, and the imp’s flas, a pair of delicate arms wrapped around his chest, dragging him into the black gate.
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