Sevette moved first.
There was no warning, no surge of power that rippled outward, no dramatic sound. One mont she stood several steps away, her red eyes curved with amusent, and the next her figure simply thinned, stretched, and vanished like mist pulled apart by an unseen wind.
Cornelia’s breath caught.
A soft chuckle brushed past her ear.
"So slow," Sevette whispered.
Cornelia spun her head instinctively, her cape flaring as she turned, but there was nothing there. The stone floor beneath her boots was empty, the torchlight steady, the air still. For half a heartbeat, confusion tightened around her chest.
Then Sevette appeared behind her.
Not fully, not solid. It was as if her body phased into existence mid-step, crimson afterimages trailing behind her shoulders. Her fingers brushed close to Cornelia’s back, not striking, just close enough to make a point.
Cornelia reacted on instinct, elbow snapping backward, but it passed through empty air.
Sevette was gone again.
She reappeared in front of Cornelia this ti, face inches away, eyes bright with teasing cruelty. Cornelia barely had ti to register the smirk before Sevette blurred and vanished once more, her laughter echoing from sowhere impossible to place.
To the side, Vance sucked in a sharp breath.
"No way..." he muttered, eyes wide.
He knew that technique.
Every vampire who trained seriously knew of it.
Blood Illusion.
At Crimson Blood Academy, it was whispered about like a nightmare dressed as a lesson. Not because it was flashy, but because of what it demanded. Absolute control over blood flow, muscle tension, perception bending, and timing down to a breath. It wasn’t simple speed. It wasn’t teleportation. It was deception so refined that even seasoned warriors doubted their senses.
Vance rembered standing in the training hall years ago, sweat soaking through his uniform as an instructor barked orders. Again. Again. Again. He rembered collapsing after failing to maintain the illusion for even a second too long.
He rembered how most students never made it past the basics, how so quit entirely after realizing how much pain and focus it required.
To even attempt Blood Illusion ant tearing at your own limits.
To perfect it?
That was sothing else entirely.
Sevette flickered across the field again, appearing at Cornelia’s left, then her right, then above, then behind. Each movent was smooth, effortless, like she was strolling through space rather than tearing through it. Her body left behind false positions, lingering echoes that confused the eye and twisted depth.
Vance swallowed hard.
"She really perfected it..." he whispered.
Cornelia felt her pulse pounding in her ears.
Her eyes struggled to track Sevette’s movents, every instinct screaming at her to pick a direction, to commit, but the battlefield refused to settle. Sevette was everywhere and nowhere, her presence like a teasing hand just out of reach.
Then claws raked toward her shoulder.
Cornelia reacted on raw instinct, crossing her arms and twisting her body just enough that the strike scraped against her forearm instead of tearing into her neck. The impact jolted through her bones, sharp and hot, but she held.
"Oh?" Sevette’s voice purred from behind her again. "You blocked that?"
Another strike ca imdiately, faster, aid lower. Cornelia raised her elbow, deflecting it with a grunt, her boots scraping across the stone as she was forced back.
The attacks didn’t stop.
They ca in waves, playful but relentless.
Scratches aid to draw blood but not kill. Blows ant to test, to humiliate, to exhaust. Sevette laughed as she moved, her voice drifting through the air like music.
"Co on," she teased. "Is that all Cain’s precious wife can do?"
Cornelia grit her teeth, arms aching as she deflected again and again. Her breaths grew heavier, her vision flickering as she tried to separate illusion from reality.
Sevette leaned close at one point, her lips brushing past Cornelia’s ear.
"You know," she whispered, "you’d look beautiful kneeling too."
Cornelia snarled and swung, but hit nothing.
From the edge of the field, Cain watched with narrowed eyes.
Sevette didn’t just appear around Cornelia.
She appeared around him too.
A flicker at his side, a sudden warmth near his ear, a whisper brushing his senses. At one point, Sevette leaned close enough that he felt her breath, her lips grazing near his ear as if she might kiss him. She winked when he glanced her way, her tongue briefly touching her fang.
Cain scoffed internally.
That’s it? That’s the famous Blood Illusion?
Vance had called it perfected, but to Cain’s eyes, it was riddled with openings. Too many repeated angles. Too much reliance on visual misdirection.
The timing was impressive, yes, but the pattern was there, faint but obvious.
And my wife still can’t see it?
He clicked his tongue inside his mind, irritation building.
Cornelia, anwhile, was starting to panic.
Her body moved on instinct, but her thoughts were tangled. Every ti she committed to a direction, Sevette slipped away. Her muscles felt sluggish, her senses overloaded.
Then she heard it.
Cain’s voice.
Clear. Sharp. Unfiltered.
"Are you blind? She’s favoring your right side every third movent."
Cornelia’s heart skipped.
She nearly stumbled.
What?
"She’s leaving her blood echo half a beat too long. You’re reacting late, not wrong."
Her eyes widened slightly.
"You’re flailing. Stop chasing her shadow and listen."
The words hit harder than Sevette’s claws.
Cornelia’s jaw clenched.
Is he... insulting ?
Cain wasn’t done.
"For soone soaked in Overgod Blood, you’re fighting like a trainee who skipped fundantals. Honestly, I expected better."
Her chest tightened.
The pain wasn’t physical.
It was pride.
Sevette struck again, claws sweeping in from the left. Cornelia blocked, but barely, her stance breaking as she slid back.
"Sloppy," Cain’s voice cut in imdiately. "That attack always cos from the illusion with the weakest blood density. You can feel it if you stop panicking."
Cornelia’s breathing grew uneven.
Each word burned.
Not because he was wrong.
Because he was right.
Sevette laughed as she danced around Cornelia again, clearly enjoying herself. "You’re slowing down," she said sweetly. "Is your husband distracting you?"
Another attack ca, sharper than before.
Cain didn’t hold back.
"She overextends after reappearing. Right there. That was your chance. And you missed it."
Cornelia’s fingers curled into fists.
Her arms trembled, not from exhaustion alone, but from fury.
Attack after attack followed, and with each one, Cain pointed out the flaw. The delayed step. The repeated angle. The mont Sevette’s illusion thinned just enough to be pierced.
"You’re letting her toy with you."
"Stop reacting. Anticipate."
"If you get scratched again like that, I’ll assu you’re doing it on purpose."
Her teeth ground together.
Sevette’s mocking laughter faded into background noise.
All Cornelia could hear was Cain.
And all she could feel was the sting of his words.
Another insult slipped through her composure.
"You’re embarrassing yourself."
Sothing snapped inside of her.
Cornelia stopped moving.
For a single breath, the battlefield froze.
Sevette appeared again, claws aid straight for Cornelia’s throat, a confident smile already forming.
And Cornelia moved.
Not toward Sevette’s body.
Toward the space Cain had pointed out.
Her hand shot forward, fingers closing around empty air that suddenly wasn’t empty at all.
The illusion collapsed.
Sevette’s eyes widened as reality snapped back into place.
Cornelia’s grip tightened.
Her fingers were wrapped firmly around Sevette’s neck.
"You move too much!"
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