GrandLord Dreath did not hesitate anymore.

The moment those words left his lips, everything around him began to respond, not with noise or chaos, but with a deep and terrifying stillness that seemed to gather toward him, as if the world itself was being drawn into a single point of focus.

He raised his hand.

Slowly.

And this time—

The blood did not simply gather.

It answered.

From the shattered ground beneath their feet, from the air thick with lingering energy, from every trace of crimson that had soaked into the battlefield, it all began to rise, pulled upward by an unseen force, drawn toward his palm with an intensity that made the very space around him tremble.

At first, it was only a faint glow.

A small sphere.

Barely the size of a stone.

But even then—

It pulsed.

Once.

Deep.

Heavy.

The kind of pulse that could be felt, not just seen, as if something alive had been born within his grasp.

Then—

It grew.

The sphere began to condense further, pulling in more energy, more blood, more presence, compressing everything into itself, becoming denser, darker, heavier with each passing second.

The air bent around it.

The light dimmed.

The ground beneath Dreath’s feet cracked further, unable to withstand the pressure that radiated outward from that single point.

"...Come."

His voice was low.

But it carried.

Every drop of blood in the area responded.

Not gently.

Not passively.

But violently.

Streams of crimson rose from the battlefield, drawn into the forming sphere, spiraling inward, feeding it, strengthening it, making it grow beyond its initial form.

It was no longer just a sphere.

It was becoming—

Something greater.

The surrounding vampires felt it immediately.

Their breathing hitched.

Their hearts pounded.

Their instincts screamed.

Because what was forming in Dreath’s hand—

Was not something meant to suppress.

It was not something meant to delay.

It was meant to end.

"...What is that...?"

One of them whispered, his voice barely audible.

"...That’s not... normal blood magic..."

Elder Achilor’s eyes widened slightly as he felt the depth of it, the complexity, the sheer weight of what was being formed.

"...This... is his ultimate..."

His voice was tight.

Because even he—

Had rarely seen it.

And never like this.

The sphere continued to grow.

From the size of a stone—

To the size of a fist.

From a fist—

To something larger.

Denser.

More unstable.

The red energy within it swirled violently, layers upon layers of compressed power folding into one another, creating a structure that was not meant to exist for long, a mass of destruction that demanded release.

"...Not yet..."

Dreath whispered.

His eyes remained fixed on the approaching Moonshade family.

They were still coming.

Closer.

Closer.

Their steps did not slow.

Their bodies did not hesitate.

Even as that overwhelming force gathered before them, even as the air grew heavy with impending destruction, they continued forward, their eyes burning, their blood roaring louder than ever.

"...Then I’ll make it enough."

The sphere grew again.

And again.

And again.

Until—

It resembled something far larger than what it had begun as.

A miniature sun.

But not one of light.

One of blood.

A deep crimson orb that pulsed with terrifying intensity, its surface unstable, constantly shifting, its core burning with compressed energy that seemed ready to burst at any moment.

"...Delay them!"

Dreath’s voice suddenly rose.

Sharp.

Commanding.

"Now!"

This time—

The vampires did not hesitate.

Because what stood before them now—

Was no longer just Dreath.

It was something that could destroy everything if not given time to stabilize.

They moved.

All of them.

Those who could stand forced themselves forward, their bodies still trembling, their minds still shaken, but their instincts pushing them into action as they rushed toward the advancing Moonshade family.

"Hold them back!"

"Just for a moment!"

"Buy time!"

Spells erupted.

Barriers formed.

Chains of blood energy surged forward once more, layered and overlapping, far more numerous than before, as every capable vampire threw whatever they had into the battlefield.

Elder Achilor moved again, reinforcing, strengthening, weaving his techniques into the chaos, his spells targeting joints, movement, perception, anything that could slow them even for a second.

Lord Vord joined in, his power pushing outward, his formations stacking atop others, adding more weight, more resistance, more interference.

And for a moment—

It worked.

The Moonshade family slowed.

Their advance faltered.

Their steps grew heavier.

The layers of suppression piled onto them, their bodies straining under the combined effort of dozens of vampires, all focused on one goal.

Delay.

Just delay.

"...Hold them!"

Achilor shouted, his voice strained.

"Just a little longer!"

The pressure increased.

The spells intensified.

Everything was thrown at them.

But then—

It began.

The tremble.

The cracks.

The resistance.

Their bodies responded again.

The chains began to break.

The barriers began to fracture.

The spells—

Began to fail.

"...No..."

One vampire whispered as his formation shattered.

"They’re... breaking through..."

Another barrier collapsed.

Another chain snapped.

Another spell dissolved under the force of their advancing bodies.

"They’re adapting again!"

"They’re getting stronger!"

"They’re too fast!"

The delay—

Was not enough.

Their advance resumed.

Faster.

Closer.

Unstoppable.

One of them broke through entirely, lunging forward, forcing the others to follow, the formation collapsing as the wave of red surged past the failing defenses.

"...We can’t hold them!"

"Fall back!"

"They’re coming through!"

The vampires scattered.

Their lines broke.

Their spells collapsed.

Everything they had thrown at them—

Was gone.

But then—

A voice cut through the chaos.

"Done!"

Dreath’s voice.

Loud.

Clear.

Absolute.

The vampires froze.

Then—

They moved.

Not forward.

But away.

Scattering in all directions, retreating from the center as fast as they could, their bodies moving on instinct, on fear, on understanding.

Because what had been forming—

Was ready.

Dreath stood alone.

At the center.

His hand raised.

And before him—

Hung a massive sphere.

No longer small.

No longer contained.

But vast.

A red planet of condensed blood energy, swirling violently, its surface shifting constantly, its core burning with power that warped the air around it, distorting space, bending light, creating a presence so heavy that it felt like the world itself was being pulled toward it.

"...Now..."

His voice dropped.

Cold.

Final.

He looked at them.

The reddened Moonshade family.

Still coming.

Still advancing.

Still unstoppable.

"...Let’s end this."

And then—

He released it.

The red planet moved.

Slow at first.

But the moment it left his hand—

It accelerated.

The air tore apart before it.

The ground cracked beneath it.

The space it passed through seemed to collapse inward, drawn toward its mass as it surged forward directly toward the advancing figures. 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖

The Moonshade family did not stop.

They charged.

Straight into it.

And then—

It reached them.

And everything—

Exploded.

Boom.