Chapter 225: Stalling Out!

Magnus Everglade entered the chamber like a conquering monarch stepping onto a throne that had already been drenched in blood.

All of the various Abyssal Lights in the ritual chamber immediately bent towards him, and various ritual sigils and runes began to subtly reorient as his presence crossing the threshold.

The remaining vampires parted instinctively, forming a crescent behind him, and Albedo felt the pressure immediately, not a single aura, but a convergence of multiple auras.

These were all the pillars of the Everglade Clan, the ones whose name never appeared on contracts anymore, but their existence still bent the policy and erased families who posed a threat to them and their plans.

These were the PureBlood Vampires, the Elders who had survived an extensive period of time not just through their immense strength, but through their paranoia, preparation, and a complete absence of mercy.

Magnus laughed, the sound sharp and unhinged, echoing off the ritual chamber walls until it seemed to come from everywhere at once. “Look at you,” he said, crimson eyes flicking from Albedo to Lilian and back again. “Standing in my sanctum. Touching my array. Did you really think I wouldn’t be waiting?”

Albedo did not respond. He was already moving around, expanding his Source Code further, layers upon layers unfolding as the chamber resolved into a living map of kill-zones, mana density gradients, bloodline amplifications, and Abyssal harmonics.

The ritual array wasn’t just active, it was feeding the entire Everglade presence in the room, a distributed engine cycling Lilian’s blood-aspected essence into every elder present.

That was why they felt wrong. They were actively devouring the blood aspected essence of Lilian.

Magnus took another step forward, boots crunching softly against etched stone. “You know,” he continued conversationally, “this could have been so much easier. Lilian should have just accepted me. A BloodHaven heiress at my side? The Northern Region would have bowed within a decade. But no.” His smile twisted. “She chose you instead.”

Lilian’s eyes snapped open, “Don’t,” she said hoarsely, voice strained but clear. “Say my name.”

Magnus laughed again, louder this time, “Oh, I’ll do more than say it. I’ll consume it.”

The first attack came without warning.

An elder to Magnus’s left moved, not fast, but inevitably. Space compressed as a blood-forged halberd manifested mid-swing, its edge layered with Abyssal corrosion that ate through mana constructs like wet parchment.

Albedo vanished as soon as he saw that, and good thing to, as the halberd cleaved through where he had been, shattering part of the ritual array’s outer ring. Abyssal backlash screamed outward, but Magnus merely flicked his fingers and stabilized it, eyes never leaving Albedo as he reappeared near the chamber wall.

Another elder raised a hand, palm opening like a mouth as the blood pressure in the room inverted, causing Albedo’s internal circulation to scream as his own blood tried to tear free of his vessels. He felt capillaries rupture, organs strain, but Source Code intervened brutally, rewriting flow vectors on the fly, locking his biology into an artificial equilibrium.

He staggered once, recovered, and summoned Havoc and Ruin, switching them into Graviton mode as he fired off slugs which detonated between two Elders, collapsing the Gravity between them inward with enough force to crater the stone floor.

For a fraction of a second, their robes tore, armor screaming under pressure, however, they managed to stabilize themselves and stay firm.

One of them smiled thinly, “Child,” he said, voice layered with multiple echoes. “That tickled.”

Albedo’s mind sharpened. Way out of my league. He couldn’t sense their exact Rank, but judging just by that fact, he stood no chance of defeating them in his current form at just Gold Rank.

The realization landed cleanly, without panic. These weren’t opponents he could dismantle quickly, not with Lilian bound, not with the ritual actively reinforcing them, not with Magnus anchoring the array personally.

So he shifted his objectives immediately to stalling for time until Raven could arrive and take out these men.

The chamber erupted into motion as Blood constructs rained from above, spears, chains, lattices designed not to kill but to contain. Abyssal familiars tore themselves out of summoning circles, malformed things with too many limbs and too much hunger.

Albedo danced between them.

Infernal Mode flared, flames tearing through constructs and familiars alike, but he never overcommitted. Every shot, every movement was calculated to force reaction rather than resolution. He broke line of sight. He shattered footing. He collapsed ceilings and rerouted pressure.

An elder attempted to flank him through shadow transit but Albedo was already there.

Mana-Drain Mode fired point-blank, the siphon ripping into the vampire’s casting matrix. The elder recoiled—not injured, but interrupted, and interruption was enough. Albedo vanished again before retaliation could land.

Magnus watched it all with manic delight.

“Yes,” he hissed. “Run. Dance. Struggle. You’ll make such excellent fuel.”

He turned his gaze to Lilian, eyes blazing. “Do you feel it? Your blood feeding us? Your lineage becoming ours? BloodHaven will be remembered as the foundation of Everglade’s ascension.”

Lilian met his gaze, hatred burning brighter than fear. “You’ll choke on it.”

Magnus sneered. “Perhaps. But you’ll be dust first.”

Another wave surged. This time, Albedo didn’t dodge everything. A blood-lance punched through his shoulder, pinning him briefly to a rune-carved pillar. Pain flared white-hot, regeneration fighting Abyssal corrosion that refused to burn away.

He gritted his teeth, tore himself free, and laughed softly.

“Still not enough,” he murmured.

Source Code pinged.

A familiar signature pierced the edge of his awareness, fast, precise, violent in a way that was unmistakably her.

Raven. Her voice cut through the chaos like a blade. “I’m close. Three minutes.”

Albedo exhaled slowly, eyes never leaving Magnus. He straightened, blood dripping from his coat, pistols spinning once before settling back into his hands.

“Make that two,” he said quietly.

The moment Albedo committed to stalling, the rhythm of the fight changed. as he made himself impossible to pin down.

The chamber became a layered nightmare of motion as Albedo tore through it like a living anomaly, not fast enough to escape their notice, but fast enough to deny them clean dominance.

He used the ritual array against itself, deliberately drawing attacks that clipped outer rings and auxiliary sigils, forcing Magnus to divert attention to stabilizing flow and recalibration.

Every second Magnus spent correcting backlash was a second Albedo bought.

An elder thrust both hands forward, blood-mana compressing into a coffin-shaped prism meant to seal Albedo’s body and soul simultaneously.

Albedo answered by firing downward in Graviton Mode, collapsing gravity beneath his feet and dropping himself through shattered stone as the prism snapped shut on empty air.

He hit a lower ledge hard, bones cracking, then rolled, already moving as Infernal fire erupted upward, flooding the cavity and forcing the elders to retreat a half-step.

That half-step mattered.

Another elder blurred into existence in front of him, claws raking across Albedo’s chest, tearing through coat, flesh, and reinforced mana layers. Albedo felt ribs give, lungs flood briefly with blood, but he shoved a Mana-Drain shot straight into the vampire’s sternum.

The siphon didn’t weaken the elder—but it destabilized his blood flow just long enough for Albedo to twist away and vanish into shadow.

He reappeared near the ceiling, inverted, firing downward to keep the familiars from swarming Lilian’s array further. Every shot was deliberate.

Magnus watched, lips curled in amusement that slowly began to sharpen.

“You’re bleeding,” Magnus observed. “Your mana output is degrading. Your regeneration is lagging. Do you really think help will arrive in time?”

Albedo didn’t answer. He vaulted from a collapsing pillar, flames propelling him laterally as another blood-lance tore through his thigh, pinning him mid-air for a fraction of a second.

He ripped free again, hit the floor hard, and came up firing, smoke and ash cloaking his movements.

Pain stacked relentlessly now.

Source Code flagged micro-failures across his body. Structural fatigue. Mana channel strain. Blood loss exceeding optimal thresholds. He acknowledged each alert and overrode none of them. He couldn’t afford inefficiency.

An elder finally caught him.

Shadow snapped shut around Albedo’s legs, anchoring him as blood chains wrapped his arms and torso, crushing inward with inexorable pressure. The world narrowed. Bones creaked. Breath became scarce.

Magnus stepped closer, eyes gleaming. “There it is. The end.”

Albedo’s vision blurred, but he smiled. Execution Mode engaged for a single shot.

The pistols merged, barrel glowing white-hot, and Albedo fired straight into the floor at his feet. The shot detonated in a controlled implosion, obliterating the shadow anchor, shredding the blood chains, and collapsing the stone beneath him.

The backlash hurled him clear across the chamber, smashing him into a ritual pillar hard enough to crater it.

He slid down, leaving a smear of blood.

Lilian cried out his name as Albedo forced himself upright, swaying, pistols barely steady now. He looked at Magnus through blood-matted hair and met his gaze without flinching.

“Two minutes,” he said hoarsely.

Magnus’s smile vanished.

The elders moved in unison, killing intent finally unrestrained. Abyssal light surged. The ritual array screamed as power spiked far beyond safe parameters. This time, there would be no space left to dance.

Then the chamber lights flickered and a sound cut through the ritual hum, high, sharp, and wrong, like reality being torn open.

Every elder froze. Magnus turned, eyes widening just a fraction. Space split along the chamber wall, a vertical seam of violet-black distortion ripping outward as if something had clawed its way through the world itself. Lightning laced with shadow exploded from the breach, obliterating a cluster of blood constructs instantly.

A figure stepped through.

Raven.

Her arrival hit the chamber like a verdict. Coat torn, eyes burning, aura compressed to a lethal edge that made even the elders recoil instinctively. She took in the scene in a heartbeat, Lilian bound, Albedo bloodied and barely standing, the ritual array raging.

Her gaze locked onto Magnus.

“You took too long,” she said calmly.

Albedo exhaled, tension finally slipping from his shoulders as he let himself lean back against the ruined pillar, a faint, exhausted grin touching his lips.

“Told you,” he murmured.

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