The Fangs Beneath the Moon
"This isn’t mana, this is Zenith Aura! When did master learn how to do this!?"
The instant that realization struck Diana, her crimson eyes widened beneath the shadow of her veil. The dark aura flowing around Victor’s body was unlike ordinary mana. Mana was fluid, ethereal, sothing that spread through the air like invisible waves.
But this...
This felt alive.
It pressed against the surroundings with terrifying density, distorting the very atmosphere around him. The grass beneath his boots bent outward from the pressure alone while faint ripples spread through the air as if space itself was resisting his presence.
Then the shock slowly faded from Diana’s eyes.
A familiar warmth replaced it.
Of course.
How could she forget?
The man standing before her was the reincarnation of the person she once loved most in all existence. And just like Azriel Runious, Victor was a monster born for battle. A genius capable of adapting to combat faster than anyone else.
So of course it was possible for him to grasp Zenith Aura this quickly.
Seeing her master beco excited in battle made Diana smile faintly underneath her veil.
A soft wind swept through the training grounds.
The moonlight filtering through the trees flickered against Victor’s black hair and golden eyes while the dark aura around him continued to pulse rhythmically like the heartbeat of a predator.
Diana slowly exhaled.
Then—
A crimson-black aura exploded around her body as well.
Zenith Aura wrapped around her like flowing shadows mixed with moonlight. Her robe fluttered violently despite the stillness of the air while the curved blade of her scythe released a low humming sound.
The pressure imdiately doubled.
Clara and Lane, who had collapsed nearby after their brutal training session, instantly felt their breathing beco heavier.
The two won stared in disbelief.
At first glance, the strange energy surrounding Victor and Diana felt similar to mana.
But it was clearly sothing else entirely.
Mana flowed outward naturally.
This force felt condensed.
Sharper.
More dangerous.
It carried intent.
Killing intent.
Battle intent.
Even standing dozens of ters away, Clara could feel goosebumps spreading across her arms.
"What... is that?" Clara muttered weakly while trying to support herself up with trembling arms.
Lane’s black eyes remained fixed on Victor.
"I don’t know," she whispered softly. "But it feels terrifying..."
The atmosphere itself had changed.
Leaves rustled violently without wind.
Tiny cracks spread beneath Victor’s feet.
The air between the two combatants grew unnaturally heavy as though the world itself understood sothing monstrous was about to happen.
Azriel, currently controlling Victor’s body, felt his entire being heating up from excitent.
His lips slowly curled upward.
’A battle where the body I’m using is weak, the weapons at hand are crappy, and my opponent is Eli. Though the current Eli is far from her peak, she still has that scythe and she’s actually using a body she’s comfortable with. This is going to be so fun!’
His golden eyes glead dangerously.
For the first ti in days, genuine excitent surged through him.
This body was inferior.
The swords were garbage.
His mana reserves were pitiful compared to his original self.
But that was precisely why this thrilled him.
Limitations made battle beautiful.
A true monster did not rely on overwhelming power alone.
No—
The greatest predators could kill even while chained.
Diana silently observed him from beneath her veil.
Victor stood there casually as if none of this mattered. There was no proper stance. No tension in his shoulders. No visible preparation.
He simply stood there.
Relaxed.
Carefree.
Confident.
That confidence struck directly into Diana’s heart.
Her grip around the scythe tightened slightly.
’They really are the sa...’
mories surfaced against her will.
A moonlit battlefield.
A sea of corpses.
A young vampire with black hair and crimson eyes laughing while surrounded by enemies far stronger than himself.
That sa expression.
That sa terrifying confidence.
As if defeat had never once existed in his mind.
’That confidence... that no matter what happens victory is all but certain.’
Her heartbeat quickened faintly.
’That’s what I feel when I look at him. Victor really is like Azriel...’
For a mont, Diana almost forgot herself.
Forgot where she was.
Forgot who stood before her.
The overlap between past and present beca dangerously blurred.
Then suddenly—
Victor’s voice pulled her back to reality.
"Are you coming or do you want to start?"
His tone was casual.
Almost lazy.
Yet the mont those words fell, the pressure around him deepened.
After saying that, Azriel began casually walking forward.
Step.
Step.
Step.
Every movent was slow and relaxed.
The two swords in his hands hung downward naturally, their blades angled toward the ground.
The sight instantly made Diana’s pupils contract.
That stance.
Her breath caught slightly.
No one else would recognize it.
But she would.
She could never forget it.
That was the exact stance Azriel used whenever he beca serious during battle.
A stance that had once slaughtered armies.
A stance that announced death itself.
The mories hit her like a flood.
A crimson battlefield beneath a shattered moon.
The sound of wolves howling in the distance.
The flash of twin blades tearing through countless enemies faster than the eye could follow.
And standing in the center of it all—
Azriel Runious.
The Blood Monarch.
The Vampire Emperor.
Her beloved.
Diana unconsciously took a small step back.
Not out of fear.
But shock.
Even after reincarnation...
Even after losing mories...
Even after becoming Victor...
So instincts remained engraved into the soul itself.
Her heart trembled faintly.
’Fangs of the Wolf...’
That technique had once beco infamous across countless worlds.
A technique designed purely for killing.
Fast.
Precise.
Brutal.
Once Azriel entered that stance, it ant he had stopped treating the battle as a ga.
Has master learned Azriel’s favorite technique?
The thought made Diana’s chest tighten.
No.
That was impossible.
Victor should not know this technique yet.
Azriel himself had personally created it after countless battles during his rise as the Blood Monarch.
There was no way Victor could naturally replicate it this perfectly.
Unless—
Diana’s eyes narrowed slightly.
Unless fragnts of instinct from Azriel’s soul were beginning to awaken inside him naturally.
The possibility sent chills across her spine.
anwhile, Clara and Lane felt utterly confused watching the exchange.
Neither of them understood why the atmosphere suddenly beca so heavy.
But they could feel it.
Sothing had changed.
Victor no longer felt like the sa person from earlier.
Even his walking style felt different.
Predatory.
Elegant.
Dangerous.
Lane unconsciously bit her lower lip while staring at him.
Why does Victor suddenly feel so overwhelming?
Her heart was beating strangely fast.
Clara frowned beside her.
The pressure rolling off Victor made her instincts scream warnings nonstop.
And yet...
She could not look away.
Diana slowly lowered her stance.
Her scythe rotated once in her grasp before settling beside her body.
The crimson-black Zenith Aura around her intensified further.
The ground beneath her feet cracked.
She understood better than anyone what ca next.
If this truly was Fangs of the Wolf...
Then even one mistake would decide everything instantly.
A faint smile appeared beneath Diana’s veil.
Excitent.
Nostalgia.
Longing.
All of it mixed together within her chest.
Across from her, Azriel smiled viciously through Victor’s handso face.
Golden eyes glead like a beast staring at prey.
The forest beca silent.
No birds.
No wind.
No sound.
Only pressure remained.
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