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Valzac and Ophelia exchanged glances. Ronan took out the item he had prepared earlier and placed it on the table. It was a parchment made of purebred sheepskin, used for conducting blood pacts.

A heavy silence hung in the air, filled with the tension of a gamble. Finally, Valzac snorted and spoke.

“Why should I?”

“You damn mosquito bastard.”

“It’s intriguing, I won’t deny that. But I doubt you have anything of value equivalent to the Essence of Pure Blood.”

“Let’s see about that.”

Suddenly, Ronan drew Lamancha from his waist and placed it on the table, sheathed. Ophelia, who was watching, widened her eyes in surprise. A telepathic message resonated in Ronan’s head.

[Ronan, what… are you doing?]

Ronan winked at Ophelia, implying she shouldn’t worry. She looked away, visibly shaken. Valzac, raising an eyebrow with interest, approached the table.

“Hmm. You do have something of value.”

“At least you have a good eye.”

“May I draw it?”

“As you wish.”

Surprisingly, Valzac asked for permission before handling the weapon. It was a pleasant display of respect between warriors.

Swish!

The drawn Lamancha revealed its form. The straight blade was as thin and dark as the eyelids of the night. Valzac, closely inspecting the sword, frowned.

“…A peculiar weapon. If only a bit more malice was added, it wouldn’t fall short of being called a cursed sword.”

“What?”

“I felt something off about it from the start.”

Valzac gripped the hilt. Suddenly, a red aura emanated from the sword, staining the once-black blade with a deep crimson.

“What the hell?”

Ronan’s eyes widened. This was the first time he had seen Lamancha react like this. Valzac, turning his body, swung the sword lightly towards the hall’s wall.

Whooosh!

The sword unleashed a wave of red energy, not in its usual crescent shape, but more like a fan, reminiscent of a water splash.

Kaboom!

The ensuing explosions shook the room. Dozens of flowers made of rock and dust bloomed, revealing the damaged stone wall. Ronan spat out a curse.

“What the heck, how did you do that?”

“It’s too malevolent. I have no use for such a thing.”

“How did you do it?”

“Am I obliged to tell you? If you have nothing else to show, I’ll be leaving.”

Valzac handed back the Lamancha, looking away. Ronan couldn’t let him just walk away. He grabbed Cita, who was on his shoulder, and presented it to Valzac.

“How about this? A creature unknown even to the thousand-year-old elves. With a half-face, swift, and if you hug it at night, it’s warm.”

“What?”

“Ophelia, the ruby shining in the snow. I’ll see you again if the opportunity arises.”

Cita’s eyes widened in surprise. Valzac didn’t reply and began to turn away. As he was about to bid farewell to Ophelia, Ronan suddenly lunged across the table, grabbing Valzac.

“Wait, you bastard.”

Both vampires turned their heads. Ronan, with both hands in his pockets, stared down Valzac, catching him off guard.

“…What are you doing?”

“I’m betting myself.”

“What?”

“I’ll bet myself on the stake. If I lose, I’ll become your subordinate. Isn’t that offer enticing enough?”

“Ronan… What on earth are you saying?”

Ophelia called out, unable to hold back her confusion. Ronan didn’t answer. Valzac chuckled.

“I don’t waste my blood on making just anyone a subordinate. What’s the benefit of making you one?”

“Of course, even if I became a subordinate, I wouldn’t stop training.”

“What do you mean?”

“If I become a subordinate, I’ll fight for you whenever you need it. A sparring partner that’ll continuously grow stronger beyond the bounds of lifespan. Tempting, isn’t it?”

Valzac’s eyes grew wide. The proposal, while arrogant, was indeed attractive. He had glimpsed the potential Ronan had during their brief skirmishes. Maybe he could become a second Jhordin. Valzac, rubbing his chin, suddenly burst into laughter.

“Hahaha! How amusing. To think there’s a human with such a perspective.”

“You’d best not let your guard down even if I become your subordinate. Within five years, I plan to take your head.”

“Fine, I accept the bet. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

“It’s simple. All I want is one Essence of Pure Blood.”

“The terms of the bet?”

Ronan explained the rules he had premeditated for the bet. They would take turns attacking each other once. Defense or evasion is allowed. However, if one retaliates during the opponent’s turn or fails to rise within a minute after being hit, they’re considered defeated.

That was it. There were no special conditions that appeared to favor Ronan. Valzac tilted his head, seemingly confused.

“…Do you truly believe you can defeat me under those terms?”

“Absolutely.”

Ronan smirked. Valzac couldn’t comprehend him. Both were well aware of the difference in their strengths. And with these terms? Valzac scoffed.

“You overestimate yourself. Such arrogance from one with such a fleeting life.”

“You talk too much for an old mosquito. Are you scared?”

“You’re cheeky. I accept the bet. If you become my subordinate, I’ll spend the first hundred years teaching you manners.”

“An excellent choice. Shall we draft the contract?”

The two of them penned their contract in blood. Ophelia, a third party, acted as a witness. She continuously sent messages trying to dissuade Ronan, but all he did was wink, indicating he was fine.

[You have completely gone mad….]

The rules of the bet and the stakes were documented in order. With both of their signatures, the parchment disappeared in a puff of smoke, leaving behind only the letters written in blood, which floated in the air.

The letters arranged themselves like a chain, sinking into the chests of Ronan and Valzac. At that moment, as the blood pact formed, Ronan instinctively realised that if he failed to honor it, he’d die.

“It feels damn eerie.”

“The binding power of the pact… it’s wrapped around my heart.”

Ophelia sighed deeply. There was no turning back now. Thankfully, the discomfort soon faded. Ronan and Valzac stood in the middle of the banquet hall. Valzac, with a relaxed tone, said,

“I’ll give you the first move. Act as if it’s your last.”

“Much appreciated.”

Ronan gripped his sword hilt. Ophelia was the referee. All the while, Valzac chuckled in anticipation.

He wasn’t confident. It was even harder for him to control his strength without killing. Ophelia, visibly nervous, finally uttered,

“Begin.”

Bang!

Ronan charged. Shadows converged around Valzac, forming an armor. This dark magic armor had a defense as strong as mithril.

In an instant, the distance closed. Ronan swung his sword. Valzac raised an eyebrow.

‘Fast.’

It was undoubtedly a swift blade, but that was all. A simple, straightforward attack. Easily dodged, but defendable.

‘Disappointing. I expected more.’

Ronan’s impending scream echoed in his ears. With a bitter smile, Valzac prepared to defend.

Slash!

The blade cleanly cut through Valzac’s armor, separating his head from his body.

“Ah?”

It didn’t take long to realise what had happened. Dizziness and pain overwhelmed him as a scream escaped Valzac’s lips.

“ARRRGGHH!!”

His limbs, separated from his body, flew in the air. Ronan laughed heartily from Valzac’s lowered perspective.

“Haha! Thanks for the effort, Valzac. I’ll take the Essence of Pure Blood.”

“How… how?!”

“I’m under no obligation to explain. Just lie there and wonder which essence you’ll release.”

As Valzac gazed at his scattered limbs, he couldn’t believe his high-density mana armor had been sliced like tofu.

“Ophelia, count exactly one minute!”

Ronan shouted to a stunned Ophelia. Clearly, Valzac’s armor was a potent spell. The sensation on Ronan’s blade confirmed it.

Of course, how to cut through mana wasn’t Ronan’s business. He gleefully taunted the crippled Valzac.

“If you’re good, please be a solid and plump guy. Like a ripe watermelon.”

“You think I’ll let this slide?”

Valzac gritted his teeth as his face reddened. After about 20 seconds, his limbs regrew explosively from their clean cuts. Ronan scowled.

“Damn.”

Valzac, staggering, picked up his head. The severed blood vessels wriggled as if alive. He reattached his head seamlessly. His neck healed instantly.

Recovered, Valzac glared at Ronan.

“That was fun… What trick did you use?”

“I didn’t see that coming.”

“Anyway, it’s my turn now. Prepare.”

Ronan nodded, and Valzac looked to Ophelia, who hesitated before whispering,

“Begin.”

In a flash, red and black energy was sucked beneath Valzac’s feet, draining the surrounding mana. The ambient darkness shimmered, revealing shadowy beasts. Ronan scoffed.

“Are you banking on one big move?”

“Don’t worry, even if you’re torn to shreds, I’ll fix you up.”

Blood flowed between Valzac’s fingers, forming long spears aimed at Ronan.

Five spears, each about 3 meters long, orbited above Ronan. With a snap of his fingers, the shadow beasts charged, and the blood spears rained down. Ronan gripped his sword.

“Alright… let’s see this through.”

Ronan lowered his stance and launched a horizontal strike. Two heads of shadow wolves soared into the air. Having dealt with three more, Ronan rolled to the side.

Bang!

Right behind him, the front paw of a charging shadow bear smashed the spot where he had been.

After cutting down the bear, Ronan looked up to see a red spear approaching him. Seeing the spear piercing through the beasts and flying towards him, Ronan spat out a curse.

“Damn it.”

Whoosh!

Ronan swiftly rotated, evading the blood spear. Immediately, beasts leaped, surrounding him. He swung his arms mightily, releasing a sword aura. The dismembered bodies of the beasts crumbled, creating a gap.

But there was no time to catch his breath. Two flying spears, which were hovering around, swooped in to fill the gap. If he had hesitated, it would’ve been too late. Instinctively, Ronan’s blade intercepted and split the spear vertically.

“It’s similar to that time.”

Suddenly, he remembered his previous battle with Ahaiyute. The spear of light shot by Ahaiyute obliterated one of his allies in a single strike. The monsters that emerged from where the feathers had fallen cornered the knights.

Only after cutting through all of that could Ronan reach Ahaiyute, stepping over the corpses of his sacrificed comrades.

Compared to that time, this was child’s play. However, his body, not fully recovered, was holding him back.

Whoosh!

Ronan shredded the shadow lion that scratched his thigh. It was a fairly deep wound, but he felt no pain. Feeling his senses sharpening, Ronan danced, swinging his sword. Valzac, who had been watching, let out a sincere admiration.

“Impressive.”

He seemed to understand why he had proposed such a wager. Ronan was a far better swordsman than he had anticipated. An unbelievable number of beasts, easily over a hundred, were being sliced apart at an astonishing speed.

“But… you’re still immature.”

Valzac shook his head. His ‘single strike’ was still ongoing, exploiting the simple rule of taking turns to attack.

At his signal, the remaining beasts all rushed at Ronan. Soon, Ronan’s figure disappeared amidst the beasts. Ophelia, sensing what was about to unfold, screamed.

“Don’t do it!”

Ignoring Ophelia, Valzac snapped his fingers. A thick barrier appeared in front of him and Ophelia.

Roars!

Suddenly, the bodies of the beasts began to inflate like balloons. The remaining spears simultaneously pierced through the beasts.

Boom!

An explosion made of blood and shadows engulfed the banquet hall. A sigh escaped from the stiffened lips of Ophelia.

“Oh… Oh…”

“That concludes my attack.”

It was an explosion no one could’ve survived. The barrier vanished, revealing the expanded scenery of the destroyed banquet hall. Thick dust obscured the view. After a few moments, an unexpected cough echoed from within the smoke.

Cough!

“…”

The eyes of the two vampires widened. Unsteady footsteps approached. Ronan’s figure soon emerged, prompting a sarcastic laugh from Valzac.

“To think you’d withstand that.”

“Cough, seriously… I almost died there, bastard…”

Ronan looked like a rag soaked in blood. Blood oozed from wounds all over his body.

Yet, there were no fatal injuries like severed limbs. He had survived similar situations twice before.

Once during the battle with Ahaiyute, and the other when he faced the storm sword of Shullifen. When Cita casted a healing spell, most of the wounds disappeared without a trace.

“Thanks, Cita. Phew, feels like I might live now.”

“Why… are you recovering with the help of others…?!”

“It wasn’t prohibited in the contract.”

Valzac frowned. Underestimating Ronan had been a grave mistake. He too had taken advantage of a loophole in the contract, but Ronan did so more cunningly. Stretching like he was warming up, Ronan smirked.

“Now… it’s my turn.”

Ronan gripped his blade, and the frozen Ophelia sent a subtle signal. Valzac shouted in anger.

“You think I’ll fall for it twice?!”

In that instant, Ronan vanished from view. The strike from the blood-infused sword was much sharper and faster than before.

Valzac felt heavier, having exhausted his vitality and energy in regeneration. He attempted to absorb the blood and mana around him.

“Huh…?”

But something was amiss. The expected blood and mana from the exploded shadow beasts and spears were missing.

His gaze landed on the creature behind Ronan. Cita, with wings spread wide, was absorbing all the blood and mana in the vicinity. Their eyes met, and Cita tilted its head playfully.

“Beah?”

“You filthy…!”

It was a rigged match from the beginning. The moment he realised it, Ronan unleashed his attack.

The blade that had once torn through armor now created dozens of red lines on the defenseless flesh. As his vision blurred, Ronan’s voice echoed.

“Sorry about this. I’m a tough learner.”

Valzac lost consciousness.