We moved along the shadows, ducking behind stone columns and trying to stay out of sight. The quiet rustle of our steps felt too loud in the silence of the night, and the fear of being heard accompanied every breath. The darkness that normally offered safety now felt like a double-edged sword—if we could hide, so could they, and I had no idea how many were behind us or how quickly they would catch up.
I could have sensed their exact number with my Demonic Sphere if they came close, but it’d be too late and risky by then.
“Where the hell is Lilian?” I muttered under my breath. Damn it, she said she’d be nearby. Where was she?
My Demonic Sphere scanned the nearby area constantly, and there was no sign of her. It frustrated me. If there was ever a time we needed her to pull one of her wild tricks, it was now. She shouldn’t be far, but clearly not in my range.
“This way,” Solara urged from the side, her voice breaking through my thoughts. The phoenix girl’s wings were tucked tight against her back as she led us through a side path, the narrow walkway barely lit by a distant lantern.
Nebula stumbled, her hand slipping from my arm, and I pulled her closer, almost lifting her off her feet as we moved. Her condition was growing worse, her control slipping through her fingers, and I could almost feel the edge she was walking on.
I glanced over my shoulder. The shapes were still there, moving closer, and among them was that one presence—his aura unwavering and determined. This was a hunt, and we were the prey. I could almost hear the echoes of footsteps getting louder, and every instinct screamed at me that we had to move faster.
Nebula’s condition was deteriorating too quickly. If we didn’t get somewhere safe, somewhere where I could help her regain control, we were done for.
Do I head toward a public place? A spot with many people? There, Victor’s minions wouldn’t be brave enough to attack us for fear of public backlash. This was Waybound City, and powerhouses lurked in every other alley. They’d step up to stop any fights. But…
But if Nebula’s urges were to overcome her senses in front of the public, that’d mark us as the enemy of all. It was a suicidal mission. The cons far outweighed the pros.
With every step we took, the pressure mounted, and the sense of being chased tightened around us like a vice. There was no room for mistakes here.
We had to get out of the academy grounds first. And we had to do it fast.
****
We ran, and we ran. Solara wanted to fly, but I stopped her. The enemies would know our exact location if she did that. After realizing that, she wanted to act as bait, but I stopped her again. She too was Victor’s target, after all, and she wasn’t very strong.
“Ugh…” Nebula stumbled, nearly collapsing into my arms. Her weight dragged me down for a moment, but I caught her just in time. Her breathing—shallow and panicked—grew weaker with every breath. “I-Iskandaar…”
“Yes? It’s going to be okay,” I said as my grip on her tightened, and a curse slipped past my lips before I finally made a decision. I had to carry her. I couldn't afford her slowing down and risking everything. She looked up at me, her eyes unfocused, struggling to hold herself together. “You trust me, right?”
“Yes…”
“Then it’s going to be okay,” I said. There was no other way. I glanced down at my right arm, pulling back my cloak just enough. With a flicker of mana, the Phantom Hand shimmered into existence—translucent, ethereal, an extension of what I’d lost.
Nebula’s eyes widened, a hint of clarity breaking through the haze of hunger and pain. “What… what is that?” she managed to whisper, her voice weak and confused.
“No time,” I muttered, adjusting the hand to scoop her up. Her body was lighter than I expected, or maybe I just didn’t care about the strain. Her gaze never left the Phantom Hand, even as her eyes glossed over with exhaustion and hunger. There was a mixture of shock, confusion, and something else—something softer—before her gaze shifted to my neck.
“Nebula,” I muttered, my voice low, almost like a plea. Her gaze remained locked on my neck. The hunger there—it was raw. Real. “Hold onto me tightly, alright?” I asked. Her fangs glinted in the dim light of the academy’s back alleys, her body tensing as if she were seconds away from losing herself.
I watched her jaw clench, her muscles tightening as she bit down on her lip, fighting to keep herself from doing what her instincts were screaming at her. My scent was like bait, tempting her, calling to her to part her jaws. She was slipping, and I could see it.
I adjusted my grip and pulled her closer as I broke into a dash.
Our movements were suddenly faster now that we didn’t have to worry about Nebula’s slow run. I hope she won't start biting my neck just yet, though…
Solara moved ahead, her senses on high alert. She darted between shadows, her eyes flicking towards every rustle, every shift in the wind. I pushed myself to keep up, each footfall pounding like a heartbeat as the world blurred past. Lanterns flashed by us, as did darkened windows and quiet courtyards, all fading in and out in the dim, cold night. The only thing that stayed constant was Nebula’s shivering. The way she shook in my arms, each tremor a reminder of how close she was to breaking.
Behind us, Victor’s men weren’t giving up. I sighed and decided to burn my Demonic Core to expand my Demonic Sphere. If they came too close, I’d have to be careful to switch it fast.
Their footsteps echoed through the academy grounds, and my Demonic Sphere caught glimpses of them—dark shapes moving between the buildings, each step bringing them closer. And among them, a stronger presence—that Sixth Ascension guy. I think that’s Bastian Frostbane… Fuck.
His aura cut through the night, a beacon of strength that sent a chill down my spine. This wasn’t some regular goon. Victor had sent someone serious, someone who could tear us apart if we made even the slightest mistake. I couldn’t slip past a Level 88 experienced fighter if he caught onto us. We gotta be faster.
The edge of this stupidly vast academy came into view, and we pushed past it, the open streets of the Waybound City spreading before us. The nearby streets were dark and empty—not a soul in sight. It was late, and the chill in the air had driven everyone inside, at least in this part of the city. The cobbled path underfoot stretched out, desolate, leading us away from the academy’s safety and deeper into the unknown.
“We need somewhere to hide!” Solara called over her shoulder, her voice hushed but urgent against the wind.
“The Fenixia mansion,” I responded, breathing heavily. “We’ll head there.”
She nodded, leading the way. It was the safest place I could think of—abandoned, hidden, away from prying eyes. More importantly, it still had the array I drew for my Blood Rebirth ritual, so nobody would know if Nebula lost control there.
Nebula let out a low groan, her body slackening in my arms, her face pale, her lips parted as she gasped for air. We had to make it.
The mansion loomed up ahead, its gates creaking as Solara pushed them open. We slipped inside, the cold stone walls rising around us like a protective shield. There was a hint of safety for a moment—a glimmer of hope.
But my Demonic Sphere caught the presence behind us, Victor’s men slipping in through the gates, closing in. We weren’t alone yet.
“There they are!” One of them shouted, and although we couldn’t see them yet, he sounded delighted. We were surrounded by tall walls now, with nowhere to run to.
I grumbled and set Nebula down gently, her back against the wall, her head lolling slightly. Solara turned to face the entrance, her wings spreading slightly as she braced herself. The Phoenix Star’s eyes were narrowed, focused—she knew she had to buy us time. But I could feel the pressure and the strength of the people approaching.
She couldn’t handle this alone; she had only touched Level 31 recently. She’d be manhandled by them. I gritted my teeth, frustration boiling over.
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Where the hell was that girl? “Lilian!” I shouted, my voice echoing through the empty halls, my desperation clear. “Get here!”
Shouting was probably useless, I knew, but I still did it. And I barely had time to let the words settle before a flash caught my eye—a blur of movement, white and red streaking through the darkness.
There she was—Lilian Lunewolf. Half her body was covered in fur, black in spots, and with white highlights. Her arms and legs were thick with muscle, and her eyes glowed a fierce red. She grinned, baring her fangs, excitement radiating from her.
“Sorry! I was following right behind,” she said. “Just leave this to me,” she declared, her voice a low growl, her knuckles cracking as she stepped forward, placing herself between us and the incoming danger. There was a thrill in her gaze—the promise of a fight she’d been itching for. I nodded, not needing to say anything more.
“You two, stop right there!” A man shouted, and I turned to find Bastian Frostbane. Black hair and blue eyes glared at me as if I was a war criminal. I ignored him.
With Lilian guarding the entrance, I pulled Nebula up, guiding her into the mansion as I closed the door. I heard shouts a moment later, for Victor’s men must have reached the place. I hadn’t even seen all of them with my own eyes yet, and I hoped I wouldn’t have to.
Nebula’s breathing was ragged, her body weak, her eyes half-closed but still focused on me. To be specific, she was staring at the pulse in my neck, her nose twitching at the scent of my blood. I could feel the hunger, the way it pulled at her, and the way her instincts were trying to take over. She was close to breaking.
“We’re almost there,” I murmured, my voice soft, as I led her into an inner chamber where I’d set up the array. We’d be safe here. Hidden.
“Y-yes…” she said, “Be quick…” Nebula’s body shuddered, her eyes glazing over, her gaze locked on me. There was a desperation there, something wild and untamed.
I swallowed hard, my mind racing, trying to figure out how to pull her back before it was too late.
****
The inner chamber felt colder than I remembered. There was no boiling blood here this time. I set Nebula down on the floor as gently as I could, her back against the stone wall. Her breath came in short, ragged gasps. Her eyes were squeezed shut, and her face twisted in pain as she fought herself.
“Sorry, I should’ve set up a bed here,” I muttered, my voice sounding weaker than I wanted it to. It felt like a pitiful apology, considering the state she was in. “Didn’t know we’d have to use this place again so soon.”
Her hands were clenched into tight fists, her knuckles white from the strain. Her entire body trembled, each breath a struggle as though she were trying to keep a monster caged inside. I could see her slipping, her control cracking like a thin sheet of ice under too much weight. Every breath she took seemed to make the cracks grow wider.
“I... I need to get away from you,” she managed, her voice cracking, full of fear. Her eyes fluttered open, and the sight sent a jolt of dread through me—they weren’t blue anymore. They glowed a vivid red. Her pupils dilated until only a thin ring of color remained. She looked at me, her hunger raw, laid bare on her face.
She was losing herself, and I feared there were barely a few minutes left until the fateful transformation. I spread my Qi across the floor, and the dull Chinese characters written with blood lit up the room. This array would keep her energy from being detected from outside, but it wouldn’t stop her transformation. At this rate, it was inevitable.
There was no doubt about it. I had to stop this, and I had to do it now. “You need to stop this,” I said, my voice calmer than I felt. My heart pounded hard in my chest, each beat echoing like a drum, but I kept my tone steady. “I know this must be a hard choice, but I don’t mind. You can drink my blood.”
I knelt before her, trying to meet her gaze, but she shook her head violently, her whole body shuddering as she looked away, tears welling in her glowing eyes.
“You… you won’t survive if I start drinking,” she muttered, her voice barely a whisper. Her gaze was fixed somewhere far away as if she were trying to look through the walls to something beyond. “You’re just one man. Just… run. Leave me alone. I’ll be fine… just like how I was fine after the night… of my 19th birthday.”
“But this birthday will not be the same, Nebula,” I argued. Midnight was minutes away—December 11th, her birthday. The moon was full tonight. Her 19th birthday hadn’t been during a full moon.
Her words sparked something in me—a flicker of rage. Rage at Victor, rage at this entire situation. Rage that Nebula was being pushed like this—that I was being pushed like this. Victor had turned what should’ve been a controlled crisis into chaos. I knew of the event, and in a controlled environment, I could have talked to her about this. But now, she was paying the price, and I couldn’t let it go on.
“Nebula,” I said, my tone turning harder, edged with a fierceness that surprised even me. “You don’t have to fight your urges. If you stop fighting them, your birthdays will stop being so intense. I wanted to propose this to you before but knew you’d reject it. But don’t reject it now. Otherwise, it’d be too late.”
Episode 4 of Arcane Crown was about this. Starting from her 18th birthday, where she’d awakened her vampiric blood, Nebula’s birthdays were always dated to be intense. That was because she fought her lineage. She refused to indulge in drinking from a fresh, live human source. Monster blood didn’t work the same.
Yes, all this could be ignored if she drank someone’s blood, my blood. However, she was a stubborn girl with fear and trauma, so she refused to do that. The whole episode focused on that. I had to replay this part a few times due to the multiple endings. There was only one accepted ending, and it was where she survived.
When she didn’t drink blood from a living source with rich mana, she transformed into a gross half-bat monster and wreaked havoc across the city until someone stopped her. By ‘stop,’ I mean they killed her. Of course, the episode didn’t have Victor’s party incident, and yet she ended up a monster all the same. With the party on top? The outcome was obvious.
So, she’d have to drink. I’d suppose my Quest’s [True Ending] included her being alive, so her survivability also meant whether I’d live. Whether this world would live. Incidents like this were the main reason I still attended Waybound. There would be many situations similar to this in the future.
Unfortunately, the way she turned her head the other way at my words, she didn’t seem very cooperative. How can she be this stubborn? I sighed. Lilian was right. Fine, then. I’d have to force her to understand since words weren’t reaching her.
I moved my hands, the Phantom Hand shimmering into view beneath my cloak. The spectral, translucent thing lit up the room a little as it reached out to my buttons. Her eyes widened, her breath catching as she looked at it.
“What… what are you doing?” she whispered, her voice cracking. It wasn’t fear exactly—more like shock, confusion. A question one asked when they grasped at anything that made no sense because it was better than facing what they couldn’t control.
She couldn’t stop me.
The atmosphere in the room changed as I smiled.
I stayed quiet and finished unbuttoning my shirt, pulling the cloak off, yanking my shirt over my head, and exposing my skin to the chill of the chamber. Her gaze followed my movements, her eyes growing darker and more intense, the red in them deepening. There was still confusion, but hunger was overpowering it—something primal that she couldn’t control.
I reached into my Soul Storage, pulling out a dagger, the metal cool against my fingers. Her eyes widened, her lips parted, but I didn’t stop. I pressed the blade into my shoulder, and the pain flared bright and hot, cutting through the cold. I hissed in pain. Blood welled up, thick and red, dripping down my arm.
Nebula took a sharp breath, her eyes locked on the blood. Her expression twisted, caught between anguish and a hunger that scared me. “You… you’re stupid,” she hissed, her voice barely audible, trembling as if she were on the brink of breaking entirely.
Despite the situation, I let out a short, dry laugh, a smirk pulling at my lips. “Then do something about it.”
It was like watching something shatter, like a dam giving way under too much pressure. She lunged forward, her hands grabbing onto my shoulders, her nails digging in as her fangs sank into my neck. The pain hit first—sharp, biting—but it dulled quickly, replaced by something warmer, spreading through me. Her body pressed against mine, her breathing heavy, her grip tightening as though she might lose herself if she let go.
The world narrowed to her. Her presence, her warmth, and the way her desperation seemed to ebb all were replaced by something calmer, something softer.
Her grip relaxed, her nails releasing my skin, and I felt her pull back. “Your blood…” she said, “it’s very… rich.” She swallowed, biting her lip.
I didn’t know what it meant, but I guessed that she wouldn’t have to drink me dry. A Vampire didn’t simply drink blood, they drank energy, the mana—Qi in my case. So it wasn’t a surprise she found my Demonic Qi ‘rich.’ It was quite fitting.
“I…” She hesitated. Her lips were stained red, her eyes half-lidded, her breath brushed against my neck, and her chest heaving. For a moment, neither of us moved. The silence between us was heavy, every breath and heartbeat echoing louder than anything else.
Then she leaned in, her lips pressing against mine—desperate, needy, nothing like before. I jerked back, my heart pounding, her name slipping past my lips, my mind reeling. “Get a hold of yourself! Don’t let your instincts control you, Neb.”
But she didn’t stop. She just grinned, her fangs glinting, her blue eyes gone, swallowed entirely by that deep, predatory red. Her gaze locked onto mine, her eyes filled with something beyond hunger, beyond desperation.
“I know what I want, Heavenly Demon Iskandaar Romani,” she whispered, her voice low, dark, thrilling. “So stay quiet, and let me feast.” She leaned in again, her lips capturing mine, her fangs grazing my lip, drawing blood that she sucked on.
I wanted to push her back again, but I felt myself slipping too, letting go of everything I thought I should hold on to. She wasn’t the only one with urges, after all… My hands roamed her delicious curves, groping the soft flesh, squeezing out a moan.
I let out a breath, and the world faded away with it. From there, it was just us—and the desperation, the rawness of the moment, and the inevitability of everything that had been building between us consumed us both. Her struggle, my protectiveness, and everything else just faded into nothingness.
image [https://lh7-rt.googleusercontent.com/docsz/AD_4nXeHhnm0KZV6E__723EJgLEVy_Ct_FWQkjU-686ccfHMxCOyyD8MTFGpZ_EX-QEqrqj7VbPwoq_PbIKHEmAxwcJFQEO3iFW3bLJeyuBXztwIuvYbHdgGdrbqsq-_oc4LIxpK4A1lJg?key=zHwt6aghVt2rnBwd6Dksggnl]