Chapter 15: The Crimson Moon

Flashback

―――――――――――――――――

Somewhere far away…

Two dragons glared at each other, their auras clashing like raging flames. The crimson moonlight flooded the ground, as if the earth itself were drowning in blood.

With eyes wide in disbelief, one of them spoke:

“Are you joking, Novarion? You mean to tell me a human dared leave a scar on your body? I thought it was nothing but rumor.”

The ground trembled with Novarion’s deep voice as he answered:

“It is the truth, Valzenor.”

Then he continued:

“Valdrath offered to heal it… but I refused.”

Valzenor (in shock): “And why would you do that?”

Novarion (coldly): “Because that human… is special.”

Valzenor (skeptical): “What’s so special about him?”

Novarion (calm, his tone heavy with weight): “Everything about him is different… and more than that, we have yet to witness his strongest form.”

Valzenor (doubtful): “I find it hard to believe any human could possess such power.”

Novarion (low, resonant): “So did I… until I fought him myself.”

⸻

Flashback within the flashback

That human faced me with pride before magic. He took my blows as a mountain endures the storm—barely standing, yet his eyes never knew fear, never knew retreat.

He lifted his gaze toward the sky and said:

“Do you know why humans don’t live long?”

Novarion (curious): “Why?”

The human, body broken but eyes blazing with life, answered:

“Because it’s only fair. Our ability to evolve is greater than anything else. If we can fight dragons in our short lives… then imagine what would happen if we lived a thousand years!”

Then, smiling through the blood that drenched his body, he pointed to the scar:

“This is my proof.”

Novarion (whispering inwardly): “For the first time in my life… I respect a human.”

⸻

The scene returns.

Novarion smiled, his aura rising with that heavy grin:

“I look forward to our next encounter.”

Valzenor stared at him in silence, until the echo of knocking on a distant door rippled through the air.

⸻

A dark castle – Vampire Clan

The trembling firelight in the hearth was the only glow in the hall. Shadows danced slowly across the walls.

Valzenor, sunk deep in his chair, had drifted into a heavy sleep, his silhouette flickering with the flame.

He awoke suddenly, staring at the fire with unease.

“Why… that dream?”

At that moment, the pounding on the door resounded, spreading its echo through every corner of the castle.

At the highest tower of the Vampire Clan

Lynn’s laughter echoed through the night as she looked at her sister.

Lynn (mocking): “I never thought you’d fall for such a simple trap… and for two whole months at that.”

L answered with a calm smile.

L: “That’s exactly what Y said.”

Lynn (astonished): “Y? …The one who saved you?”

L (quietly): “Yes. He’s also the guild leader.”

Lynn (remembering): “You mentioned his name… when you were staring at the moon.”

L’s gaze drifted to the moon; the wind carried her hair like silver threads, and a gentle smile formed on her lips.

L: “He used to gaze at the moon every night… as if waiting for an answer from it. That habit spread to everyone who knew him.”

Lynn (smiling warmly): “It seems you’ve found true friends… I want to meet them after the war.”

L (with serene confidence): “You won’t have to wait that long… they will come here.”

Lynn (startled): “What?”

L (firmly): “Allowing me to speak with Y was a mistake… because the result will always be the same: he will come here… and in the end, he will win.”

Lynn (hesitant): “Valzenor, the Vampire King, the knights, the barrier… it’s impossible to break through without a fight.”

L looked at her with unwavering certainty.

L: “With Y… every impossibility becomes possible.”

Lynn (whispering in awe): “Who is this human…? And why does he fill you with such unshakable faith?”

In the dark castle

Valzenor sat on his massive throne, shadows of the grand hall coiling around him. His deep voice cut through the silence:

“Enter.”

The door creaked open slowly. A guard stepped inside, unease written on his face.

“My lord… there is a problem.”

Valzenor raised his head, his crimson eyes glinting.

“You mean the one at the barrier?”

The guard’s eyes widened in shock.

“Yes, my lord… how did you know?”

Valzenor turned toward the vast window overlooking the courtyard, his gaze glowing with a strange light.

“I can feel him.”

The guard hesitated, then stammered:

“Who is this person?”

He faltered before blurting out:

“It is… a fox spirit.”

Valzenor snapped his head toward him.

“A fox spirit? Not a human man?”

The guard nodded quickly.

“Yes… she said she wishes to see L.”

A strange disturbance rippled through the barrier. Valzenor muttered in a low, resolute voice:

“I’ll see to this myself.”

On the rooftop of a towering building overlooking the courtyard

L stood beside Lynn, both gazing down at the soldiers assembling below.

Lynn: “The troops are on alert… has something happened?”

L (steadily): “He has arrived.”

Lynn exhaled in disbelief.

“Breaking through the barrier is difficult… and don’t forget, Valzenor is here as well.”

Suddenly, the air grew lighter, more serene. A calm voice rose behind them:

“Am I late, L?”

Lynn spun around, eyes widening.

“When did you get here? And why didn’t I sense you?!”

L smiled softly.

“He always arrives at the right time.”

Y stepped forward, exchanging a quiet greeting with L. Lynn’s brows knitted with unease.

“If he’s here… then what’s on the other side?”

L smiled as she introduced him:

“This is my sister, Lynn… and Lynn, this is Y — my partner.”

Y returned a gentle smile.

“A pleasure to meet you.”

Lynn (curious): “How did you cross the barrier?”

Y walked to the edge of the rooftop, his eyes silently analyzing the southern horizon.

Lynn: “Walking alone into the territory of vampires is reckless.”

Y (grinning): “I’m used to danger.”

L looked at him knowingly.

“You’re here for information, aren’t you?”

Y answered without hesitation:

“Who is the enemy in this war?”

L: “They are constructs — extinguishers forged of magic. Immune to it, and able to drain mana itself. The seal will shatter in three days.”

Y: “And how do you plan to fight them?”

L lowered her head.

“We can’t.”

Lynn added in a hushed voice:

“The only way is to renew the seal… with the sacrifice of five, alongside the Vampire King.”

Y tilted his head, a faint smirk curling his lips.

“What a plan…”

L turned away.

“I’m going to help Ash… I’ll see you later.”

Lynn blinked in surprise.

“I didn’t expect that.”

L gave her a gentle smile.

“You’ll get used to it.”

Then the air grew heavy again — a crushing aura flared behind Y. Everyone turned toward it… except Y, who remained seated on the edge, staring at the courtyard in silence.

Valzenor appeared, staff in hand, crimson eyes blazing.

Lynn (stunned): “Valzenor… why are you here?”

His voice was cold and stern:

“There was a disturbance in the barrier… you are the cause, aren’t you?”

Y met his gaze calmly.

“And you’re Dracula… the one who spoke through the crystal, aren’t you?”

Valzenor: “My name is Valzenor. Guardian of this domain.”

Y was about to introduce himself, but Valzenor cut him off, icy and dismissive:

“I don’t care who you are.”

Y (calmly): “Stop this.”

L turned quickly to her sister.

“Lynn, let’s go.”

Lynn (hesitant): “What about Y?”

L (confidently): “He doesn’t need our concern.”

Valzenor’s aura surged, his voice dripping with menace:

“I warned you not to come here… it seems humans have no regard for their short lives.”

Y’s grin spread wide.

“Do you think the threats of a strong man will frighten me? All they do is fuel my excitement.”

Valzenor stepped closer, voice cutting like a blade.

“Do you truly think you can defeat me? Or have you grown so weary of life that you long for death?”

Y answered with steady calm:

“If I die, then that simply marks my limit. And besides… I didn’t come here to fight you.”

Valzenor’s expression shifted, his tone easing just slightly.

“At least… I can acknowledge your resolve. So tell me — what do you seek?”

Y’s voice turned serious.

“To help L. That is all.”

At the Barrier

Ash stood before endless rows of vampire guards, their crimson eyes gleaming beneath the glow of the ward.

From among them, a man stepped forward, his voice deep and resonant:

“I heard a fox spirit wishes to enter the kingdom.”

Ash replied firmly:

“I want to see L.”

The man smirked coldly.

“That’s fine… but you’ll have to leave afterward.”

Ash shook her head.

“I’m afraid I must decline. I have no intention of leaving once I’ve spoken to L.”

Before he could respond, a soldier burst forward, shouting frantically toward the king:

“I told you, Your Majesty—we must stop her by force!”

With a roar, he lunged at Ash, thrusting his blade into her chest.

“This is what you deserve!”

But her body dissolved like smoke.

In the blink of an eye, Ash appeared behind him, wind magic condensed in her palm. She struck his back with devastating force—the ground thundered with the impact, and the soldier was sent flying, flailing helplessly in the air.

The Vampire King extended his hand, catching the soldier’s mangled body with ease, as though it were a puppet. His voice was calm yet stern:

“That is why I told you… do not fight.”

He cast the body aside, continuing with composed authority:

“You are one of the Five Blood. Recklessness like this only leads to your downfall. In the end, you struck first—so you reaped what you sowed.”

Stepping forward, his presence filled the air.

“I am Rignaros, King of the Vampires.”

He was imposing, dressed in regal dark attire. His crimson eyes gleamed like blood, long white hair cascading over his shoulders. Every line of his face was solemn, his aura heavy with authority.

Ash met his gaze without wavering.

“So you’re the Vampire King. Then I demand you explain your problem to me—because I won’t back down.”

Rignaros studied her for a long moment.

“I’ve heard… you’ve been here for some time.”

Suddenly, the air trembled. The king’s eyes widened—he sensed a tremendous aura in the distance.

“Valzenor… he’s moving? Why?”

He paused, realization dawning, then muttered under his breath:

“…I understand now.”

Lifting his gaze back to Ash, his tone sharpened.

“I apologize. I’ve changed my mind. I won’t let you leave until I know your true purpose.”

Ash’s lips curved faintly.

“I only needed to buy some time.”

Rignaros murmured, almost to himself:

“…Buying time? Then it’s because of that human.”

Straightening, he declared firmly:

“I must go see for myself.”

But Ash stepped in front of him, blocking his path.

“I’m sorry, Vampire King… but I won’t let you pass.”

Rignaros’s crimson gaze cut into her, then shifted briefly toward Valzenor’s direction.

“Coming here was a mistake… I wanted to return to Valzenor, yet this spirit stands in my way. It seems I have no choice.”

He raised his hand. Blood gathered, forming a dark crimson blade, glowing ominously in his grasp.

The battle began.

⸻

Rignaros launched forward with blinding speed, his blood-forged sword flashing. But before he could strike, a magic seal erupted beneath his feet, exploding with force.

The king staggered back, glaring at the scorched ground.

“So… you planned ahead.”

Ash smiled lightly.

“As they say… the battlefield itself is part of the fight.”

Rignaros nodded.

“True. Choosing the ground can grant the advantage.”

Ash continued evenly:

“By the way—that was the only trap I set. Don’t worry, you won’t find more.”

The king gave a faint smirk.

“But that doesn’t apply to traps during combat… does it?”

Ash smirked back.

“No, it doesn’t.”

Their auras clashed, heavy and suffocating.

Empowered by wind magic, Ash dashed forward with bare fists, while Rignaros swung his blood sword with lethal precision.

Amid the exchange of blows, Rignaros remarked:

“Most who fight in your style avoid close combat.”

Ash blocked one of his strikes, gritting out:

“True… but if I want to keep up with Y, I must overcome my weaknesses. Otherwise, I’ll never match his rapid growth.”

She leapt back gracefully, raising her hands—dozens of magic spheres formed and hovered around her.

The king’s eyes narrowed.

“Tell me your name, spirit.”

Ash’s voice rang out with strength:

“My name is Ash—member of Y’s team, and L’s friend.”

Rignaros’s lips curved in a cryptic smile.

“A rare opponent indeed. You blend close combat and magic seamlessly.”

He swung his blade again. The sword never touched her, yet the very air split apart.

A wave of crimson energy tore through the ground, cutting straight toward Ash.

She twisted away at the last instant, though the edge of her cloak was ripped apart.

Her eyes widened.

“…A slash?”

The king’s cold smile deepened.

“One strike is enough—if you know how to unleash it.”

The clash reignited—Ash raining spheres of wind and magic, while Rignaros dodged and countered with deadly crimson slashes.

Both prepared for their decisive strike when—

A massive explosion erupted in the heart of the vampire domain, smoke billowing into the sky.

Rignaros’s gaze snapped toward it in alarm.

“The blast came from Valzenor’s side… but the barrier still holds. This is bad. I must move at once.”

Ash growled defiantly.

“I won’t let you go!”

At that moment, three vampires surrounded her.

“Leave her to us, my king.” one declared.

They lunged at Ash all at once—

But crimson spears of blood erupted behind her, intercepting their attack.

A familiar voice resounded:

“Four against one? That hardly seems fair.”

Rignaros turned slowly, his face grave.

“You know what this means… don’t you, L?”

From the shadows, L emerged, walking forward with steady confidence to stand beside Ash.

“Ash… I came to fight with you.”

Lynn stepped in too, her voice sharp.

“Standing against your own kin… I should have expected this.”

Rignaros’s tone wavered between fury and disappointment.

“…L, why would you do this?”

She stood firm beside Ash, her eyes unwavering.

“Forgive me, my king… but I placed my bet on Y.”

Before the Explosion

The two warriors stood face to face, their auras clashing like storms before their blades could meet. Silence weighed heavily—laden with a fatal tension, as though the very air had stopped to witness the decisive moment.

Y spoke in a cold, unwavering tone:

“You know this isn’t a true solution… Why persist? Why sacrifice them?”

Valzenor swallowed his words, then whispered hoarsely:

“I seek a sacrifice…”

Suddenly, he erupted in fury, his voice roaring beneath the crimson moon:

“Are you mocking me?!” His eyes blazed as though ready to burst into flames.

“For all these years… I’ve watched them sacrifice themselves for the tribe. Generation after generation, king after king—and I, the strongest among them, powerless to help. Do you know why this keeps happening? Let me tell you—because of one human. And now you tell me I want to sacrifice them?!”

A crushing silence followed. Midnight was near.

The air stilled—time itself seemed frozen. The crimson moonlight painted every face in stone; not a guard, not a mage, not even Y moved.

Y said nothing. His eyes, steady and relentless, burned more fiercely than any outburst.

Then Valzenor’s voice rang firm and sharp:

“Draw your weapon.”

Y replied with quiet, lethal calm:

“I already have the solution.”

But Valzenor exploded with blood and command:

“Draw it!”

At once, a colossal eruption of blood magic tore the air—thunder roared, crimson flames surged skyward, drowning the moon in their glow. The ground shook, stones exhaling heat as the wave of destruction spread.

From the heart of the blast, Y emerged—his clothes scorched, hair disheveled, but his eyes unyielding, cold as steel. Fire and blood had scarred his cloak, yet he stood, unbowed, silent, and unbroken.

He brushed the ash from his arm, slowly drew his weapon, and fixed Valzenor with a gaze void of fear. His voice rang out—calm, steady, absolute:

“Then the victor decides the plan.”

⸻

L Against the Five Blood

One of the Five Blood stood before L, his voice booming:

“L… Have you forgotten our purpose? Sacrifice for the tribe. You are one of the Five as well!”

Her gaze held steady.

“Remember… I’ve always opposed this plan.”

Another lunged forward, shouting:

“That doesn’t mean you can stand against your own kin!”

Her reply was quiet, but resolute:

“I’ve already made my choice.”

A third snarled:

“Then bear the consequences!” He charged, blade raised.

But before the strike could land, the earth shook violently.

A surge of blood magic erupted from Rignaros, the Vampire King, freezing everyone in place.

He stood tall, his voice thundering across the battlefield:

“I will not allow any of you to die this way.”

The silence that followed was heavy, suffocating, as his power bent the very air.

He continued firmly:

“Remember… a greater battle still awaits us in three days.”

As the paralysis subsided, his gaze turned toward Y and Valzenor, crimson eyes blazing. His tone was final, commanding:

“The victor between you… will decide the path. This is no mere clash of power. The one with the stronger will shall prevail.”

⸻

Before all eyes, a battle unlike any before began. The sheer force of their auras shook the ground, detonations tearing the courtyard apart with each surge.

Through the smoke, Y appeared again—burned, bloodied, but still standing. A cold smile stretched across his face, as if pain meant nothing to him.

From afar, Rignaros watched, astonished.

“Who would have thought… a human capable of matching Valzenor like this?”

⸻

Suddenly, a vast circle spread across the ground, engulfing the entire battlefield.

Y narrowed his eyes.

“…Paralysis magic.”

Valzenor laughed darkly.

“This is your end.”

Gathering his might, he unleashed a massive blood spell—an explosion that rattled the kingdom’s very walls.

Peering into the rising smoke, he declared coldly:

“Such is the only logical outcome.”

But then—a shiver pierced his core. Instinct forced him to turn.

Behind him stood Y, his eyes glowing with strange light.

“…My chance.”

They clashed in unison—Valzenor with blood sorcery, Y with fire. Their strikes collided, detonating in a storm that sent them both reeling, blood dripping from their wounds.

Y’s breath came ragged.

“He still hasn’t used his full power… and I’m already at my limit.”

Valzenor pressed a hand to his own wound, eyes gleaming. He lifted his gaze skyward, whispering:

“…Midnight has come.”

The moon turned crimson.

⸻

Pressure crushed the air. The sky burned blood-red, clouds swirling into a devouring vortex.

Valzenor’s voice pierced the silence:

“This domain… is mine now.”

In an instant, the battlefield transformed.

The ground shattered, flooding into a sea of blood. The heavens blazed scarlet, the atmosphere suffocating.

Valzenor stood at the center—human in form, yet monstrous in presence.

“This is the end… that begins here.”

Wings of blood tore from his back, hardening into hide. Horns erupted from his head, bones from his shoulders forming dark armor. His hands twisted into deadly claws.

With a roar that split the sky, Valzenor revealed his true form—

the Crimson Dragon.

Y stared in awe.

“…A dragon? What is this technique?”

From afar, Rignaros explained solemnly:

“This is Valzenor’s Domain. A Domain is the embodiment of one’s spirit… attained only by those who have achieved inner peace.”

⸻

The dragon’s tail struck like a spear, ripping through the air.

Y braced, but a magic gate twisted the strike—appearing behind him. Too late, the blow tore into his side.

He staggered, clutching the wound.

“Blood magic infused with fire… overwhelming strength… and now gates redirecting strikes…”

Valzenor appeared behind him.

“You’ve seen nothing yet.”

Their blades met—another explosion ripped through the blood-soaked field.

Y lunged, but his foe vanished.

Closing his eyes, he sharpened his senses. A presence flared behind him—he struck instantly, only to hit a blood orb that exploded against him.

Smoke rose from his battered body. Then came the storm: blood spears, detonating spheres, gates opening at random, raining chaos.

Y dodged what he could, endured what he couldn’t, his mind calculating endlessly.

Valzenor’s laughter echoed.

“Do you know what the strongest attack is?”

Y leapt toward his head—but suddenly, his blood burst from within.

He dropped to his knees, blood gushing from his mouth.

“…My blood… exploded?”

The dragon loomed, voice cold as steel:

“The strongest attack… is one that strikes from within.”

Y’s blood flared suddenly—detonating in return. The magic dissipated.

Valzenor closed his eyes, confident.

“It’s over.”

But in that moment, a blade pierced his chest.

He froze, gasping.

Y stood before him, drenched in blood, barely standing.

“How… are you still alive?!”

Y’s voice came ragged, but steady:

“The strongest attack… is to endure your own.”

Another blast erupted—this time inside Valzenor’s body.

He collapsed to one knee, blood spilling from his lips. Old words rang in his mind…

Novarion’s warning:

“A word of advice—if you ever face that human, never let your guard down. Even for a heartbeat… or he’ll turn the battle against you.”

Valzenor whispered, staggering:

“…Are you… that human?”

⸻

The Victor

Y nearly fell, his body broken and drenched in crimson.

But before he could collapse, L and Ash rushed to his side, holding him up.

That night…

they all bore witness to a battle never to be forgotten:

A human standing—

while a dragon knelt.

Lynn whispered in awe:

“…So this… is Y.”