Chapter 481: Is this the taste of Defeat?
The horn hadn’t finished booming when Killian moved.
A blur of black and red tore across the sand, faster than his Supra GTX as Nikolai struggled to follow his practised movements. One moment, the vampire stood at the far gate, and the next, his knee hooked into Nikolai’s abdomen like a landslide.
Bang!
"Ghh...!"
Nikolai’s body flew across the sand, slamming into the steel cage while bouncing, unable to stop. His ribs screamed as he smashed into the steel wall with a crunch. The audience gasped, blood pouring from his mouth like vomit as the sand formed a wave of dust.
Too fast.
Nikolai barely raised his arms; otherwise, his head might have popped like a grape.
The power of a Great Elder shook Nikolai, his right eye blurry, and his ear hissed with a squealing noise that resembled tinnitus.
Blood stained the sand crimson as Nikolai staggered forward. His right arm flopped to his side, weak and tingling with pins and needles.
"What?"
He took a defensive stance because Killian reappeared, stepping out of thin air with aristocratic poise, a single gloved hand snapping forward.
Crack!
Nikolai’s vision became white, pain spreading through his face as if having his wisdom teeth removed without numbing his gums. The blow hurled him against the wall, blood spraying across the walls like an old-fashioned anime.
His aura was like a candle flickering in a storm.
"Child." Killian’s voice filled the air with a cold and eloquent ring. Even as his attacks carved the arena with deep fissures of sand, he remained tranquil. "Did you think yourself my equal, because you beat scraps, shapeshifters and mutants?"
Another strike! A knee to his gut this time. The blow ripped the oxygen from Nikolai’s lungs as spit and bile mixed with blood burst from his mouth. He staggered, claws shooting forward in reflex, but Killian glided past as though gravity itself bent to his will.
The vampire’s coat swayed, untouched by the violence.
His crimson eyes gleamed with disdain.
The crowd roared in awe at the sheer gulf of power.
Nikolai’s muscles screamed from the lack of air, his bones creaked under the pressure of Killian’s aura, but his pride, his frustration drove him forward. A reckless and yet needed driving force. Black flames erupted from his body, twisting around his arms as his fist shot forward, ripping a black scar across the sand, but Killian... Killian simply raised a finger.
A pulse of crimson light exploded outward, extinguishing Nikolai’s aura like snuffing a candle.
The backlash tore through his arms, scorching his skin, peeling flesh from bone before his regeneration forcibly knitted it together.
"Ngh...!"
With gritted, bloody teeth, erratic breaths and a throat filled with iron. Nikolai recoiled. He had faced Elders, monsters, assassins, those who called themselves powerful—but nothing like this. Every instinct screamed that this was impossible.
And yet, his lips curled into a deformed, twisted smile.
His heart sang louder than the fear in his bones.
"Finally," he muttered, a low growl through bloodied teeth. "It reminds me of dad... that immense wall I couldn’t match."
Killian reacted. His smile deepened for the first time. "Oh? Bold words from a mangy dog... However, to be compared to that man. I won’t insult you, let me grant you the respect you deserve."
Killian’s smile was faint, cruel, aristocratic, but he didn’t fling lies or useless insults at Nikolai.
That’s when his figure blurred again, vanishing and reappearing behind Nikolai, clawed hand like a dagger, shooting forward.
The world slowed for a heartbeat.
Ba-Dum
Ba-Dum
Nikolai’s instincts screamed, howling through his veins the moment he saw the vampire vanish. His mother’s ability activated as he twisted just enough. Killian’s claw didn’t pierce his spine, but tore across his ribs, gouging flesh that smoked from the vampire’s dense aura.
"Ghh—!" Nikolai grunted with a ragged noise.
Blood pooled across the sand, sizzling as it hit the crimson haze spreading from Killian’s body.
The crowd howled louder. Some cheered, others shrieked for blood, but their voices were a distant noise. For Nikolai, there was only the suffocating pressure of the vampire in front of him.
All the battles and struggles he faced...
None felt as insurmountable as this one, like a gigantic black wall.
He staggered, dropped to a knee, then pushed himself upright again.
Nikolai didn’t know whether to punch through or climb the wall.
His aura flickered with a tinge of red; each attack, each wound allowed him to devour a small amount of this Great Elder’s aura. It sputtered and hissed, collapsing, only to blaze back with every heartbeat.
"Not bad." Killian looked at his hand, then at the wounded Nikolai, who shot five metres away in the blink of an eye. "Speed... passable, endurance... passable..." He mumbled to himself with a strange smile as he looked up at Nikolai. "Most dogs your age would already be twitching corpses. You’re stubborn. I’ll give you that."
Nikolai wiped his mouth and spat blood into the sand, his eyes flickering with a silver rim, then grinned back. "Stubborn enough to rip your throat out!"
The vampire’s smile thinned.
"Don’t be arrogant!"
And then he vanished.
Nikolai’s eyes strained, his muscles tight as he followed the flicker of crimson mist. At first, it was like chasing lightning, impossible, but with each strike, each blow, his vision adapted. The blur had a rhythm. His body screamed, but his instincts adapted.
There!
He jumped back, Killian’s claws slicing the air where this throat had been.
"Whoa..."
"Amazing!"
The crowd gasped and cheered, able to watch the action in slow-motion.
The vampire raised a brow, looking at the young werewolf barely a fraction of his age, acting arrogant and looking at him with bright eyes filled with hope. "You can see me now? Hm. Interesting."
"Haa...."
With a long breath, Nikolai calmed himself, the tremble in his arms faded, and the burning pain became a slight warmth. He launched a counter, fist glowing as he aimed a jab to Killian’s face. The blow connected and tore flesh.
Though he wounded the vampire, the wound was shallow. Far too shallow.
Killian glanced down at the faint tear in his immaculate coat, then back up with glowing red eyes. At first, he remained calm, then blood dripped from his cheek, and his eyes widened. "!!!" He rubbed the minor wound on his face, and the atmosphere collapsed.
Boom!
Killian’s palm slammed into Nikolai’s sternum. Bone cracked, black blood vomited from his mouth as he flew across the sand again, gouging a trench.
Every nerve screamed in agony, yet his grin widened, sharp and bloody.
"Haah... haahhh... you hit like a shapeshifter, weak!" Nikolai gasped, forcing himself to stand. His legs trembled, aura leaking in unstable waves. "Hah! It feels like I’m breaking apart. But No matter how much you beat me... with every strike... I’m growing!"
The crowd didn’t know what to make of him—half-dead, laughing through shattered ribs.
Killian’s noble mask faltered for an instant. He tilted his head, hair messy, but curiosity flickered behind his smirk. "What can the son of a bitch who lay with a dog do? Know your arrogance you filthy worm!"
Crimson mist swallowed him whole.
This time, it wasn’t just speed he came with; he wanted annihilation.
The mist spread across the arena, choking light itself. Blades of aura cut the sand, carving fissures deep into the reinforced ground. Screams erupted from the audience as sparks burst against the protective barriers.
The entire arena rattled as if it might collapse.
Inside that storm, Nikolai staggered and swayed. His black flames fought to hold back the tide, flickering and thinning with every strike. His skin peeled, bones cracked, yet with every exchange, his eyes sharpened.
Killian didn’t know.
Nosferatu didn’t know.
About Nikolai’s unique blood and what it could do.
"I can... see it..." he growled through split lips.
His vision caught the subtle twist of Killian’s ankle before he vanished. The faint distortion in the mist betrayed the vampire, revealing his goal.
However, the difference in strength remained as another blow landed, crushing his right shoulder, then another slammed into his ribs. But this time, he didn’t collapse. Instead, he dampened the blow with his left forearm.
With the twist of his body, his claws tore through the air, intercepting Killian’s killing blow.
Sparks erupted.
The crowd exploded in disbelief.
Killian’s smile sharpened. "So you finally learned to crawl."
Nikolai lowered his hips, five blades of aura trailing from his claws that faced the ground, like curved swords wrapped around his back. The pressure inside his chest, the barrier that had held him back all week during training, trembled, cracking.
His heart reverberated with a savage rhythm, every beat pumping more power into his limbs.
Push past it. Break it. Devour it!
Killian blurred away, reappearing at Nikolai’s flank, only for Nikolai to pivot, his claw carving through the vampire’s coat and cutting flesh beneath.
This time, the blood that spurted wasn’t his own but Killian’s.
The Great Elder’s crimson eyes widened, just slightly.
"Impossible."
"Impossible... impossible... IMPOSSIBLE!"
Nikolai’s breath came in desperate breathy growls. His bladed aura flickered, licking the air like wildfire. His body screamed, every muscle shredded and torn, but his spirit sang.
"I’m not... impossible." He spat blood, grinning with teeth exposed. "I’m inevitable."
The crowd erupted.