A few mins before the confrontation with Alonso Abigail and astra.

Nightowl strolled through the dim corridors of his mansion, each step reverberating like the toll of a distant bell. The flickering candlelight did little to chase away the shadows that clung to him, as if the darkness itself bowed in his presence. His fingers twitched, crackling with ominous an blood red mana, his veins pulsing beneath his pale skin. Leaving the mansion, he rose into the night sky, hovering silently as he floated toward a section of the members district, where his men reveled in a courtyard below.

They were drinking, laughing, oblivious to the storm that approached. Nightowl's eyes narrowed, his face cold and unfeeling. Without a word, his hand rose slowly, fingers curling as the blood magic coiled in his palm, like a living entity eager for release. His voice, barely above a whisper, cut through the night with chilling finality.

"You're all worthless to me now."

The spell erupted in eerie silence, a surge of invisible death that swept across the courtyard and into the nearby pub where more of his subordinates celebrated. Blood-red tendrils slithered from the ground like serpents, wrapping around the throats of the unsuspecting men. Their laughter dissolved into terror, eyes wide as the crimson tendrils tightened. The room, once filled with life, turned into a scene of grotesque horror as one by one, they gasped for breath, choking, their bodies convulsing before collapsing into lifeless heaps.

Nightowl hovered above them, his dark eyes gleaming with twisted satisfaction as he absorbed their essence, their mana flooding into him like a torrent. The power surged through his veins, invigorating him. He smirked as he surveyed the massacre below, their corpses scattered like broken dolls. His grin widened, the air thick with death.

He whispered to himself, his voice barely audible in the chilling silence. "Every loose end... must be eliminated."

Alonso dived toward the member district where Nightowl was located, his thoughts sharpened into a single purpose—Nightowl would soon face the full measure of his wrath.

Meanwhile, Abigail and Astra flew toward the visitor district, where rahab and Moby are located, their focus locked on the upcoming confrontation.

A man sprinted through the dimly lit alley, his breath ragged, the air thick with the stench of blood. His comrades had fallen behind one by one, their screams abruptly silenced by the gruesome sounds of flesh being torn apart. Panic seized his mind, his heart thundering in his chest. "Why... why is the boss doing this? What's gotten into him? I need to run—I'm next."

He glanced back just in time to see Nightowl, a tall, ominous figure cloaked in shadow, standing over a dying subordinate. In his hand, a sword gleamed an eerie, wet crimson—so deeply saturated it looked as though it had been carved from blood itself. The man's worst fears were confirmed: Nightowl's blade was no ordinary weapon but a creation of pure blood, forged by his blood magic.

The vampire's eyes glinted with sadistic delight as he swung the sword, slicing through the last of his men with chilling ease. "Only Moby matters," Nightowl muttered, indifferent to the slaughter. As he advanced toward the final survivor, he suddenly stopped, his eyes narrowing. His senses flared—a powerful presence was closing in.

Nightowl turned his gaze skyward, locking onto a descending figure. Alonso landed gracefully, surveying the carnage with calm detachment, his eyes scanning the mountain of corpses that lay scattered around Nightowl. The two locked eyes in a brief, silent standoff, both fully aware of what was about to unfold.

Nightowl's grin stretched wide, revealing a flash of his fangs. "If you're here for slaves, you're too late," he mocked, his voice dripping with cruel amusement. "I'm afraid my inventory is a bit... depleted."

Alonso's expression remained composed, yet his words carried an undertone of sharp wisdom. "I have little interest in slaves. What I seek today is far more valuable—a vampire head. I believe the current market price is somewhere around 500,000."

Before Nightowl could react, a sharp hum filled the air as Alonso's nanobots coursed through his body, gathering energy.

.In an instant, Alonso raised his fist, and a blinding beam of azure light shot from his palm, striking Nightowl square in the chest. The searing laser burned through his flesh with surgical precision, leaving a smoking hole where his heart should have been.

Nightowl barely flinched. His eyes remained cold as the wound sizzled, instantly cauterizing. No blood spilled. He glanced down at the gaping hole in his chest, then chuckled—a low, dark sound. "Well, that's what I get for being careless."

Without warning, Nightowl's sword dissolved into liquid blood, which snaked its way into his chest, filling the wound with unnatural fluidity. In seconds, the hole closed up, leaving only unblemished skin. Alonso's eyes narrowed, observing the vampire's rapid regeneration with an unsettling clarity.

"High-speed regeneration," Alonso murmured, more to himself than to his enemy. His expression remained composed, though his mind was already calculating his next move.

Nightowl's smirk widened, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "The finest of us vampires are gifted with such... resilience. You didn't really think it would be that easy, did you?"

Alonso met his gaze, unperturbed. "high speed regeneration... fascinating, but predictable. The body heals, yet the essence remains vulnerable. There are many ways to skin a cat, Nightowl."

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For a brief moment, silence hung between them—then, without warning, both surged forward. They collided mid-air, their fists meeting in a thunderous clash. The impact sent shockwaves rippling through the district, shaking buildings to their foundations. Windows shattered, debris flew in every direction, and the very ground trembled beneath their power.

Dust filled the air, obscuring them briefly, but their eyes remained locked, neither giving an inch. Nightowl's grin faltered slightly as he realized that this battle was far from over.

The night air was ,filled only with the rhythmic clopping of horse hooves as Moby drove the wagon through the streets, his eyes scanning for any sign of disturbance. In the cage behind him, Maria and several other captives huddled, the creak of wood and the distant murmurs of the city serving as the only backdrop to their fear.

Suddenly, the calm shattered. Abigail descended from above, her form landing with a force that shook the ground. The wagon groaned under the sudden impact, the horses rearing back in fear, but Moby remained focused on the reins until he glanced back—and saw her.

Abigail wasted no time. Her hand ignited with vibrant green fire as she swung a powerful backhand across Moby's face. The strike was so fast and fierce, Moby was flung from his seat, crashing into a nearby stone wall with a sickening crack. He lay there groaning, half-conscious, as the horses neighed in terror, now left without their driver.

Before the wagon could regain any momentum, a shadow loomed overhead. The air grew heavy with malevolent energy as Rahab descended from above, landing with a force that obliterated the wagon beneath him. Wood splintered and flew in every direction, the iron cage crumpling under his weight. The horses broke free and bolted, disappearing into the distance, while the captives—Maria included—were thrown clear of the wreckage, free from their confinement.

Maria rolled to the ground, dazed but alive. Blinking away the dust, her eyes widened in shock as they settled on a familiar face. "Abigail...?" she whispered, tears welling in her eyes as hope rekindled in her chest. "Is it really you?"

Abigail stepped forward, her green flames flickering in the night like a protective aura around her. She glanced at Maria briefly, her eyes softening, before locking onto Rahab.

Rahab, towering over the ruins of the wagon, let out a low chuckle, his dark magic swirling around him. "Well, well, what do we have here?" His eyes narrowed as he studied Abigail, his grin widening. "You're not ordinary are you? There's strength in you—something far greater than the usual riff-raff."

Abigail's expression remained stern, her emerald flames intensifying as she addressed him. "And who are you? A fallen angel skulking about in the night?. What's your purpose?"

Rahab's sneer deepened, dismissing her question with a wave of his hand. "My business isn't with you, woman. You're meddling where you shouldn't, mind your business woman." His gaze swept the battlefield before landing back on her. "But... I'll admit, you're interesting. My master would certainly find a place for someone like you."

Abigail's eyes narrowed, her patience wearing thin. "You've gotta be out of your mind if you think I'd ever join you," she said coldly, her voice steady. The green flames around her flared up, swirling more fiercely. "If you think I'll just stand here and let you take these people, think again."

Rahab rolled his shoulders, dark magic crackling at his fingertips as he took a step forward. "Brave words," he said, his voice dripping with mockery. "I'm not just some demon you can banish with a flicker of fire."

Abigail's flames surged higher, now swirling around her like a blazing cyclone. "I don't need to banish you," she said, her voice deepening as divine energy filled the air. The silhouette of Libra, the Supreme Goddess, briefly appeared behind her, casting a sacred glow over the battlefield. "I just need to burn you."

Without warning, Rahab lunged, his dark aura expanding with every step. Abigail shot forward to meet him, and in an instant, they collided with an explosive force. The impact sent shockwaves rippling through the district, shattering nearby windows and causing the ground beneath them to crack and tremble.

Rahab swung a vicious punch, his fist engulfed in dark energy. Abigail ducked beneath it, her movements fluid and precise. With a swift counter, she delivered a fiery knee strike to Rahab's ribs, the green flames searing through his dark aura. He staggered back, grimacing in pain but quickly retaliated by conjuring a wave of dark energy that surged toward her.

Abigail raised her arms, the emerald flames swirling into a shield that deflected the attack with ease. "You're strong," she acknowledged, her tone calm yet firm, "but strength alone isn't enough to beat me."

Rahab wiped the blood from his lip and chuckled. "Oh, I'm far from done." His eyes darkened as he summoned more of his power, the black energy coiling around him like living shadows. "Let's see how long your flames last."

Rahab propelled himself into the air with a burst of dark energy, and Abigail quickly followed, standing on her enchanted board of aviation. As she soared after him, trails of green flames illuminated her path. The sky above them darkened, a storm of black and emerald fire raging between them. They clashed mid-air, their strikes swift and forceful, each impact unleashing shockwaves that echoed through the clouds, lighting up the heavens with violent flashes of power.

Rahab swung a dark energy-coated fist, aiming for Abigail's head. She blocked with a wall of emerald flames, the heat intensifying as she pushed him back with sheer force. They twisted and spiraled in the air, exchanging blows with unmatched ferocity. Rahab's shadowy aura swirled around him like a storm, while Abigail's flames danced and flared, brightening the darkened sky.

The ground below trembled as their battle raged above. Rahab unleashed his strength, the oppressive weight of his dark magic pressing down on the freed slaves below, driving them to their knees in terror. His hands stretched out, gathering the shadows into a massive sphere of darkness that radiated raw power.

Abigail's emerald flames flared higher in defiance, her voice ringing out with divine authority. "Do you know," she said, her eyes burning with fierce determination, "my flames are eternal."

With a fierce shout, Abigail thrust her hands forward, unleashing a torrent of emerald fire. "ABSOLUTE BURNER!" The roaring inferno surged toward Rahab, its intense heat warping the air around it, divine energy crackling in every flame.

Rahab remained unfazed. With a casual motion, he twisted the sphere of dark energy, shaping it into a massive shield. The swirling blackness blocked the flames, absorbing them into its depths and leaving him unharmed.

As the last ember flickered out, Rahab's sinister grin widened. The dark shield pulsed ominously in his grasp, absorbing the remaining heat. "Is that the best you can do?" he mocked, his voice dripping with condescension, his eyes gleaming with cruel amusement.

Below, on the ground, Moby had recovered after using a magic potion. Taking advantage of the chaos, the slaves had attempted to flee, but Moby was quick to act. He moved with ruthless efficiency, knocking them out one by one as they tried to escape. Just as he turned to pursue the last few, Astra appeared in his path, her glowing eyes fixed on him, blocking his every move. The two exchanged a tense glance, both preparing for the inevitable clash.