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Chapter 100: Ricky vs. Dracula, fight!
🕑 Added 2024-11-10 08:01:34 +0000 UTC“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Dracula’s laughter echoed through the chamber, a sound tinged with mockery.
It was clear he found amusement in the confrontation, though the way he gazed at Ricky suggested more bitterness than joy.
“I’m going to enjoy this, enjoy ripping you apart Ricky Luciano, and whoever you are!” Dracula proclaimed, throwing any useless bindings aside.
It was then did he reveal the grotesque faces etched across his body once more, all contorted in silent screams, trying desperately to escape the confines of his skin.
“I am Rachael Van Helsing, granddaughter of Abraham, and the one to finally avenge the Van Helsing name-” Rachael declared, her voice strong and steady, filled with purpose.
“OH ABRAHAM! OF COURSE, YOUR LINE WOULD STILL BE ALIVE, GOOD, GOOD!” Dracula interrupted, a manic grin spreading across his features as he cracked his neck.
“I am so glad since it wouldn’t be fun if I didn’t unveil this form to a Van Helsing.” Dracula laughter turned maniacal, filling the room with an eerie resonance.
Ricky frowned, feeling the shift in the atmosphere as it was a dark omen as the air grew heavy with dread.
Then, before their eyes, black magic began to swirl around the myriad faces on Dracula’s body, a chaotic dance of dark energy that wrapped around him like a shroud.
“Watch closely, little Van Helsing, for you will witness the true power of what your bloodline could never hope to master!” Dracula bellowed, his voice booming as the magic intensified, the faces merging and twisting, feeding into the dark ritual.
The grotesque display was a warning of the monstrous transformation that was about to unfold as the faces writhed under his skin.
As the magic enveloped him, Dracula’s form began to shift dramatically as his body brutally contorted and expanded, dark tendrils of energy sprouting forth, amplifying his already fearsome presence.
Dracula’s eyes burned with an otherworldly glow, radiating an aura of malevolence that chilled the very air around them.
“N-No,” Rachael breathed, a chill racing down her spine as she sensed the familiar signature of magic swirling around Dracula as the air thickened with dread as she watched in horror.
Dracula’s body began to contort grotesquely; void black fur erupted from his pale skin, giving him a monstrous, otherworldly appearance.
His face twisted into a horrifying amalgamation of wolf and bat, fangs glistening with malice.
Claws tore forth from his fingertips, glimmering ominously in the dim light of the chamber.
With a guttural growl, Dracula shed his own skin in one fluid motion, the remnants falling away like shadows into the abyss.
Dracula threw his arms wide, exposing his transformed body to the world, a display of raw, chaotic power.
“FEAST YOUR EYES ON THE NEW BEGINNING, TRUE POWER!” Dracula roared, his voice reverberating through the chamber, echoing with the intensity of ages.
The pale, feral face he now wore was a mask of pure menace, filled with an insatiable hunger for vengeance.
“Racheal, snap out of it-”
“It’s impossible, that’s our unique magic gifted to us by god-”
“It’s impossible! That’s our unique magic gifted to us by God—” Rachael stammered, her eyes wide with disbelief.
“NOT ANYMORE!” Dracula cackled, his voice resonating with a newfound power.
“I’VE INJECTED THE SOULS OF YOUR ANCESTORS INTO MY BODY! NOW, I AM FREE FROM ANY WEAKNESS OF THE VAN HELSING LINE!” Dracula gestured menacingly at Ricky, his expression twisted with malice.
“THEN, ONCE I KILL YOU BOTH, I’LL TAKE THE SUN PENDANT AND WREAK HAVOC ON THE WORLD! HUMANITY, HYDRA; THEY WILL ALL COWER IN FEAR OF MY POWER AS I BUILD A THRONE OF SKULLS OUT OF ALL WHO OPPOSE ME!” Dracula manically laughed out, envisioning the carnage he would cause and the throne of bodies he would build.
In these three years, Dracula hadn’t simply stood idly by; he had honed his dark magic, syncing it with the very essence of his being.
Every incantation, every sacrifice had added to his power, turning him into something more than a mere vampire, he had become a force of nature, a harbinger of death and chaos.
Ricky felt the weight of this transformation pressing down on him as that one-fifth advantage he had thought he possessed was now rendered almost meaningless against the monstrous entity before him.
Ricky's heart raced as he instinctively erected numerous mental walls, trying to protect his thoughts from the dark energy radiating from Dracula.
WHOOSH
The air rippled and twisted around Ricky as he summoned a torrent of power, a vibrant green aura exploding from him like a tsunami, illuminating the dim chamber with an otherworldly glow.
His eyes flared, shimmering in an even lighter shade of green that seemed to pulse with energy, a beacon of his determination and fury.
He focused, planting mental walls with fierce intent, constructing a labyrinth of defenses aimed directly at Dracula.
Each wall shimmered with a translucent sheen, vibrating with the energy that swirled within Ricky.
The atmosphere around Dracula shifted as a sudden low-pitched energy sound thrummed, a warning of the impending conflict.
Then, with a crackle of energy, a symphony of mental-projected cannons manifested, swirling around them like sentinels of wrath.
Their barrels pulsed with condensed mental energy, a promise of destruction that hung heavy in the air.
BOOM
BOOM
With each explosive shot, the air fractured as a triad of blasts spiraled toward Dracula as he rushed forward with an unnatural speed, a blur that defied comprehension.
Every step he took was a calculated assault, each movement leaving behind a violent explosion that sent shockwaves through the chamber.
The walls Ricky had erected transformed into mere springboards for Dracula’s relentless advance, the force of his speed creating tremors that rattled the very stone.
Ricky pupils bounced all around his eyes, trying to process the speed of the oncoming threat, his mind racing to keep up with the chaos.
Just as he thought he had a moment to breathe, Dracula leaped backwards, dodging the blasts with an elegance that seemed almost balletic as Ricky’s eyes flared with determination as he sensed the moment shift.
BOOOOOOOM
The explosion that followed was cataclysmic, a huge eruption of green fire flared in the enclosed space, engulfing the room in a brilliant conflagration.
The force of it pushed back against the walls, sending debris flying and the air thick with the smell of scorched earth as Ricky could feel the heat wash over him, invigorating yet terrifying in its intensity.
But even so, he collapsed his hands, pouring every ounce of focus into shaping the flames, compressing them into a concentrated ball of raw power.
The flames twisted and danced at his command, coiling around his fingertips like living serpents, each flicker illuminating the fierce determination in his eyes.
The energy surged within him, threatening to spill over as he prepared for the next phase of the battle.
BOOOM
The throne room erupted in chaos, the air igniting in a brilliant explosion as Ricky unleashed the concentrated flames with a roar of defiance.
The fiery inferno lanced through the space, obliterating his own metal barrier and sending shards of twisted metal flying in every direction
Flames licked at the walls, roaring like a wild beast as they consumed the darkness that cloaked the room.
Smoke filled the air, swirling around Ricky as he stood in the center of the devastation, panting heavily.
Huff
Huff
Huff
Ricky fought to regain his composure, the remnants of his energy simmering around him, casting flickering shadows on the scorched floor.
He extended his hand, palm facing forward, and took a deep breath, focusing on the warmth still radiating from the flames.
“Ah~”
A soft, almost relieved hum escaped his lips as the smoke began to clear, revealing a sight that sent shivers down Rachael’s spine.
There, amidst the debris, lay Dracula, his once-majestic figure marred and burnt, parts of his skull visible beneath charred flesh and yet, instead of despair or anger, Dracula regarded Ricky with a chilling calm.
“How long has it been since I’ve felt pain?” he mused aloud, his voice dripping with dark amusement.
Dracula's eyes glinted with something almost akin to fascination as his form began to heal before Ricky’s very eyes.
Flesh and sinew reformed, knitting together in a grotesque dance of regeneration, as if he were a living nightmare refusing to die.
“Oh, I remember now.” Dracula's voice boomed through the throne room, dripping with malicious delight.
As Ricky’s danger sense flared, a primal instinct screaming at him to move, he scanned the area, but it was too late.
In an instant, Dracula vanished from sight, his form dissolving into the shadows that cloaked the room.
Ricky barely had time to react before a tremendous force slammed into him as Dracula reappeared, the power of his magic coursing through his very veins, amplifying his strength to terrifying levels.
“WHEN YOU SUMMONED THAT FOUL CREATURE!” Dracula screeched, the echo of his rage reverberating off the stone walls.
The punch landed squarely against Ricky's abdomen, the impact reverberating through his very bones.
Pain exploded like fireworks in his gut, knocking the breath from his lungs as he staggered back, his feet scraping against the cold, hard floor.
BOOOOM
The throne room shuddered as Dracula's punch landed with the force of a meteor, sending a shockwave that rippled through the air like a violent storm.
Ricky braced himself, feeling every muscle in his body strain under the weight of the impact, his bones rattling from the sheer power unleashed by the vampire lord.
Ricky's feet dug into the stone floor, but he stood firm against the onslaught, feeling the magic of Dracula's enhanced strength coursing through the air like electricity.
A grimace twisted Ricky's face as he channeled his own energy to stabilize himself, his green aura flaring brightly to push back against the pain radiating through him.
However, just as Dracula launched his powerful fist even further, his eyes suddenly darted to the side, sensing an impending shift as he lunged back with incredible speed, but the momentary distraction was enough.
BOOM
Ricky’s body slammed into the stone wall behind him, the impact sending a shockwave of dust and debris cascading through the air.
Ricky coughed violently, each hack tearing through his throat like shards of glass, but he managed to hold Garfield close, absorbing some of the brutal force.
COUGH
COUGH
Blood splattered from his mouth and nose, painting the ground beneath him a deep crimson as his healing factor fought to repair the damage to his battered internal organs.
But rather than succumb to the agony, Ricky’s lips curled into a grin, a wild spark igniting in his eyes.
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Ricky laughed, the sound echoing off the stone walls as he sat amidst the wreckage, blood dripping from the corners of his mouth like war paint.
“You little maggot,” Dracula hissed, his voice dripping with venom as he touched his chest, where a jagged gnash had formed, an injury that refused to heal, the result of Ricky’s holy aura infused into the wound. It was a mark of his defiance, a symbol of the battle raging within.
Despite the overwhelming pain, Ricky reveled in the moment, understanding that this clash wasn’t merely about brute strength.
When Dracula had attacked, Ricky had realized he wasn't fast enough to block the blow entirely, but he had wanted it that way.
That cut on Dracula’s chest showed that even in that form, even if he was still more powerful than Dracula, he was vulnerable.
Ricky’s laughter soared, echoing with a fervor that filled the room with palpable energy as it was a declaration of his resilience, a reminder that even in the face of despair, he could still rise.
“Does it sting?” Ricky asked in a mocking tone, wiping his mouth while slowly standing up.
“Not even a little,” Dracula sneered and without a moment's hesitation, he ripped off a chunk of his own flesh, the grotesque sight only fueling his power as he tossed it aside like discarded refuse.
The flesh plopped on the ground while the self dug cavern on his chest slowly rebuilt itself, fully forming back.
“But I will give you credit. I was aiming to steal the pendant, but it’s of no matter.” Dracula continued, his expression shifting from casual amusement to frustration as he clenched his fist, only to realize the pendant was still absent.
The frown that crossed his face hinted at a growing impatience, yet he knew he would claim it eventually.
“Are you shocked? Surprised even?” Dracula taunted towards Ricky, his voice dripping with mockery, knowing Ricky didn’t expect his strength even if he tried to hide it.
“I’ve poured all my strength into my physical form rather than my magic this time.” Dracula's words were a challenge, meant to undermine Ricky’s ability to counter magic, but before Ricky could respond, Dracula’s head snapped to the side.
“YOU BASTARD!” Rachael yelled, launching herself forward with ferocity.
But with a swift and effortless motion, Dracula bent sideways, avoiding her strike before unleashing a brutal kick into her side.
“Argh!” Rachael gasped, barely managing to raise her forearm in defense.
The impact shattered bone and sent her sprawling backward, the force of the blow echoing through the throne room. Dracula chuckled darkly at her expense, relishing the power he held.
“I suppose I can skin you alive first and have my fun with the fabled Black Knight for dessert.” Dracula taunted, his footsteps leisurely as he strolled towards Rachael, each step filled with menacing confidence.
“You two have yet to understand that you are mere specks of sand on my road to domination,” Dracula continued, his voice oozing with arrogance, even after facing Ricky’s power.
“But tell me, why make this so difficult for yourselves?” Dracula sighed, dodging one of Rachael’s strikes then sending a fist into her abdomen.
Meanwhile, Alexander watched in horror, the realization dawning on him that they were outmatched.
‘Ricky, his physical aspect has become too strong for our plans, we must change our approach.’ Alexander urged in their mental communication, fear gripping his heart as the once-familiar distance tactics seemed futile against this new, formidable incarnation of Dracula.
Cough
Ricky doubled over, expelling a mouthful of blood onto the floor, the metallic taste mingling with the bitterness of defeat.
‘Any ideas? Because I didn’t expect him to hit that hard. I’m actually in a lot of pain right now.’ Ricky thought, struggling to catch his breath as he leaned against the crumbling wall.
Alexander, glancing at the dazed Garfield, nodded with grim determination, watching the cat’s eyes spin from just one attack.
‘Yes, I do, but it involves both hands.’ Alexander's gaze shifted back to Ricky, who quickly grasped the plan.
Seizing the moment while Dracula was distracted, he accessed his storage space and hurled Garfield inside, along with the pendant, sealing them away.
‘Now what?’ Ricky asked, forcing himself upright despite the pain that lanced through his body.
His grimoire floated beside him, shimmering with untapped power, while he clutched the ebony blade tightly in both hands, its weight both reassuring and heavy.
‘I need time to assess him more.’ Alexander replied, his eyes narrowing as they locked onto Dracula, pupils flaring with intensity.
‘Attack him, and I’ll assist you along the way, we must wear him down.’ Alexander’s voice was steady, a stark contrast to the chaos that surrounded them.
BAM
Dracula's fist crashed into a nearby pillar with a deafening crash, sending shards of stone flying.
Rachael barely managed to duck in time, her heart racing as she glanced back at Dracula, who reveled in her confusion, a wicked grin spreading across his face, but as he turned back to face Ricky, the air shifted around him.
Without warning, a green portal burst open behind Dracula and out of it, the ebony blade hurtled forward at breakneck speed.
Dracula's instincts kicked in just in time, and he narrowly dodged the deadly projectile, the blade whistling past him.
Seizing the opportunity, Ricky lunged into the air, his hands outstretched and with a swift movement, the blade boomeranged back into his grip, and he slashed downwards with ferocity.
CLANG
The sound of metal on metal rang out as Dracula swiftly parried the blade with his claws, his agility allowing him to slip past its razor edge and with a flick of his leg, he countered, kicking outwards at Ricky.
DINK
“Damn mutant,” Dracula hissed, frustration lacing his voice as his attack was momentarily halted by a mental barrier as Ricky swung his body, shifting the blade to the side, regaining his stance.
In a fluid motion, Dracula jumped, his clawed hand brushing against the body of the blade once more, using it as leverage to springboard into the air.
Dracula soared above Ricky, eyes glinting with malice as he prepared to launch a devastating aerial attack.
“F*cking idiot,” Ricky cackled, the words bursting forth with a manic energy as he dropped the blade.
With a swift motion, he held out his hands, his solar flare bow materializing from his inventory before an arrow slowly swirled with a terrifying bright energy.
WHOOSH
An arrow flew out in the next second, hurling towards Draucla who was semeigly left wide open only for him to twist his body.
BOOM
The arrow exploded on impact, a blinding flash of light and sound that temporarily engulfed the room in chaos.
Yet, amid the smoke, Dracula's figure emerged, unfazed as he unleashed a kick that sent a wave of force rippling through the air, creating a cloud of dust that hung ominously before parting to reveal Ricky spiraling through the haze.
With the wings of Daedalus flapping behind him, Ricky found himself propelled toward Dracula, who was starting to feel the strain of battling a mere human.
Clenching the ebony blade with determination, Ricky slashed downward, but Dracula stood his ground, a defiant grin spreading across his face.
DINK
Dracula shot a punch at Ricky only for a barrier to materialize, absorbing the impact, but it wasn’t enough.
Dracula exploded forward, his body surging with a primal energy that belied his monstrous form.
A maddening grin pierced his face as the vampire let the blade slice into him, countless times, feeling the bite of metal against his skin, while his claws tore into the mental projection with savage ferocity.
Ricky, taken aback but unyielding, swung the blade again and once again, the tip of the weapon grazed Dracula’s back, skinning the surface and drawing a thin line of crimson.
But instead of recoiling, Dracula leaned into the pain, his smile only widening, a maniacal gleam lighting his eyes as he reveled in the thrill of battle.
As Ricky hurtled downward, gravity turning him into a living missile, Dracula merely stood there with his arms wide open, mocking him with a grin that dared him to strike.
But Ricky's eyes burned with determination and at the last second, he twisted into a controlled somersault, his body spinning in the air as he brought his blade slashing down with vicious intent.
Each strike landed with a sickening tear as black blood erupted from Dracula’s body in brutal streaks, painting the air in crimson arcs.
Deep gashes opened across the vampire's chest, shoulders, and arms, dark blood streaming from them, trailing down his torso and staining the floor below.
Despite his immense power, each of Dracula's counters was met with a relentless mental barrier, a wall he could feel but not penetrate.
BOOM
The two warriors smashed into the ground, the impact shattering stone and sending jagged pieces of debris flying outward like shrapnel.
The floor beneath them cracked, deep fissures racing outward in all directions as their bodies ground into it, splattering it with fresh blood.
Then, the dust split apart as both figures shot away from the scene of the brutal onslaught, leaving only a haze of chaos in their wake.
One one side, Dracula stood in the hazy air, his body a nightmarish spectacle of torn flesh and exposed muscle.
His skin hung in ragged strips, raw sinew gleaming beneath, and blood dripped in dark rivulets down his battered form.
Yet, even through the agony, he grinned, a ghastly, blood-soaked smile that only seemed to grow wider as he set his eyes on Ricky.
Cough
Cough
Cough
On the other side of the destruction, Ricky held his ground, sword raised in a rigid stance.
But through that demeanor, his face was pale, a sheen of sweat clinging to his brow, and his bloodshot eyes burned with an unyielding focus.
Though his body bore no immediate visible wounds, the toll was evident as blood trickled from his nose and ears, a stark indicator of the intense mental strain he’d endured.
His breaths came in short, harsh gasps, and every cough brought more blood to his lips, a dark stain against his mouth.
Dracula’s gaze remained locked on him, the bloodthirsty gleam in his eyes only intensifying as he directed his efforts inward, pouring his efforts into shattering Ricky’s mental barriers.
With every ounce of raw force he could summon, he clawed and tore at the invisible walls that protected Ricky’s vulnerable human body, paying no heed to the wounds that deepened with each strike, flesh stripping away from bone.
Dracula could feel himself growing weaker, his body shredded, but he savored the pain, relishing in it, knowing it was the price for getting closer to Ricky’s vulnerability.
The price was high, each rip and tear of his own body a step closer to breaking Ricky’s mind wide open.
Dracula knew the risks, knew that at any moment Ricky’s blade could flash through his defenses.
But he embraced the suffering with that twisted, ravenous smile, certain that the damage he inflicted within was worth every agonizing wound he bore on the outside.
“One hundred and seventy-two.” Dracula lifted his head, eyes narrowing into cruel crescents as he gestured down at his mutilated form.
Clap
Clap
Clap.
Dracula began to applaud slowly, the sound echoing through the desecrated hall like a death knell.
“One hundred and seventy-two wounds.” Dracula remarked, his voice dripping with both admiration and mockery.
"It is Impressive."
Ricky’s knees buckled slightly, the weight of Dracula's gaze pressing down on him.
Blood trickled down his face, and his body trembled from the intense strain as every ounce of training, every brutal hour of discipline, had gone into delivering those cuts, those slashes.
He’d given it his all, carving into Dracula with a precision born of relentless dedication.
But Dracula only smiled wider, opening his arms in a mock embrace, savoring Ricky’s struggle.
“And yet.” Dracula's voice deepened, dripping with twisted satisfaction.
“They pale in comparison to the six hundred and forty-two mental barriers I’ve shattered.” Dracula let out a towering laughter, bellowing out after counting each and every one.
Dracula tilted his head, watching Ricky with a dark sense of appreciation as he knew the effort it took to wield such skill, to create those defenses, and he acknowledged Ricky’s strength with a perverse respect.
Dracula watched Ricky’s chest heave, wondering if reality was sinking in, wondering if his vision was blurring with both exhaustion and fury.
Wondering if Ricky was pondering those three grueling years of relentless, all-consuming training, pushing his body to the breaking point, testing the limits of his will.
Wondering if he’d believed, truly believed, that every painstaking step had prepared him for this moment.
But Dracula’s laughter sliced through him like a dagger, cold and mocking at his own thoughts.
For Dracula, seven hundred years of blood-soaked battles, brutal conquests, and endless self-honing had built him into something beyond mere human comprehension.
Every century had forged him harder, honed his instincts sharper, and shaped him into an unstoppable force.
He took in Ricky’s tattered, battered form, and a flicker of amusement glinted in his ancient eyes.
“For every slash you gave me,” Dracula continued, his tone sinister and taunting.
“I destroyed four of your precious defenses, each one more desperate than the last. And now,” Dracula added with a malevolent glint in his eye, gesturing towards him.
“You stand before me, weakened, bare, and just as I intended-”
“It only took me three years to do all of that, seems to me that you’re the pathetic one here?” Ricky laughed out a heaping of blood, interrupting Dracula who’s smile twitched.
“I mean just three years ago you threw me around like a ragdoll but now, well, I’m kind of disappointed, Dracula.” Ricky raised his own gaze into crescent moons, gazing upon Dracula with a mocking light.
“I thought you would destroy more.”
Then, green spotlights ignited around Dracula, casting him in an eerie, theatrical glow as if he stood at the center of a twisted stage.
The unearthly lights danced over his battered form, illuminating the raw, torn flesh and oozing wounds that Ricky's strikes had left behind.
Every inch of his body radiated with a horrifying blend of power and gore, his injuries almost pulsing in time with the energy crackling around him.
In that spectral glow, mental projections began to shimmer into existence, brimming with raw mental energy, flickering like flames.
Dracula’s figure seemed to absorb the spotlight’s power, every projection a twisted reflection of Ricky’s shattered defenses, his fractured psyche almost tangible in the haze surrounding them.
The atmosphere grew thick with tension, the green lights casting an ominous hue on Dracula’s bloodied smile as he prepared to strike anew, feeding off the very energy meant to shield his opponent.
“I know you can’t form any more of those barriers.” Dracula taunted, a sinister grin twisting his blood-smeared face.
“The backlash you’re facing now will lead to your own demise if you do.” Dracula raised his head with a smug air, confident in his observation but Ricky only scoffed, spitting blood to the side.
Dracula was right; Ricky’s barriers, powerful as they were, came at a cost.
Though they were growing stronger, especially given their mythic nature, the strain on his body was immense upon them being destroyed.
His healing factor couldn’t keep up, struggling to mend his brain fast enough to maintain both offense and defense.
Yet, despite the pain, he grinned.
“You f*cking idiot, that was just me stalling.” Ricky revealed since he didn’t need to rely solely on the barriers, his reason slowly perching itself on his shoulder.
“I have assessed him.” Alexander declared, his eyes gleaming with a fierceness that showcased his might.
“I am ready.”
“Ha~” Ricky let out a rough laugh, plunging the ebony blade into the ground with a heavy thud, leaving it standing as he reached back to draw his bow.
The shift in his stance marked a shift in his strategy, letting Alexander dictate the next phase of this battle as the commander slowly took the reins.
“North, thirty degrees,” Alexander murmured, his gaze steady.
Dracula remained still, unmoving, while Ricky, with a swift and sudden motion, drew back his bow, eyes locked on the target.
There was no hesitation, no second-guessing, not a shred of doubt as the arrow of the solar flare bow was drawn back, blazing with fierce intent.
Whoosh
The arrow from the solar flare bow sliced through the air, its trail blazing with radiant energy as it appeared to be aimed at empty space, an improbable target.
But just then, Dracula surged forward, his speed blurring him from view as he moved, vanishing from his former spot and reappearing with lightning speed.
At north, thirty degrees.
BOOM
Dracula’s body flew backward, his feet skidding across the ground, gouging deep trenches in the stone floor as wisps of smoke and flames trailed off his smoldering form.
His gaze drifted down to the burning wound on his side, its edges sizzling with remnants of solar energy that hissed as they ate into his undead flesh.
Slowly, he looked up, fury blazing in his eyes, only to find Ricky already drawing another arrow, the radiant bow casting an almost blinding light.
The energy of the sun pulsed over Ricky’s skin, its intense heat creating waves of distortion around him, nearly unbearable, yet he seemed unfazed, his focus unwavering as he locked onto his target.
“You insignificant-” Dracula’s voice dripped with rage, but before he could finish, the spectral cannons hovering in the air unleashed a storm of firepower, every shot targeting him with ruthless precision.
BOOM
BOOM
BOOM
“West, seventy one degrees.” Alexander calmly muttered, Ricky’s hands gracefully moving to align with its positioning as he unleashed another arrow.
“ARGH!” Dracula roared, his body twisting mid-air as he narrowly dodged the barrage of blazing projectiles, only for another arrow to strike his thigh.
Time itself seemed to crawl as he felt his control slipping, the solar energy from Ricky's arrows searing into his undead flesh, weakening him with every pulse.
His eyes scanned the battlefield, narrowing as he caught sight of Rachael lurking to the side, an idea sparking through his mind: if he could reach her, use her as a shield, the entire fight would shift directions.
In a blur, Dracula lunged toward her, his monstrous form propelling forward with deadly intent-
But Alexander was a step ahead.
“East, twelve degrees,” Alexander commanded coldly, his voice calculated and unwavering. Ricky’s response was immediate, pulling back and releasing another arrow without a second thought.
The arrow sailed through the air, striking Dracula square in the back as the impact sent him stumbling, his spine arching as the scorching energy tore into him.
He let out a howl of fury, smoke rising from his wounds as the solar energy burned through him, disrupting the dark forces that sustained him.
In the three years since that brutal defeat, Alexander had been far from idle as he hadn’t just trained Ricky, he had dedicated himself to dissecting every moment of that disastrous day, letting each memory etch itself deeply into his being.
The images of Henry's slow, agonizing death haunted him, carving an indelible scar on his soul while watching his fellow familiar die as he did nothing but watch.
Alexander endured those countless sleepless nights, replaying those final moments, every word, every gasping breath, making sure that he would never forget the helplessness from that day.
It was when he was sure he would never forget that Alexander made a promise to himself: Dracula would never have that power over him again.
But Alexander’s resolve didn't just come from grief, it was a relentless, methodical drive to understand the mind and tactics of their enemy.
He had studied Dracula’s every move from that battle, analyzing his psychological patterns, recognizing the terror tactics Dracula wielded like a weapon and replayed that day in his head, over and over again.
He knew Dracula’s true strength lay as much in his power as in his ability to make others tremble, to dismantle them with fear.
When Dracula reappeared, transformed and more monstrous than ever, Alexander’s initial shock was brief.
He had spent years constructing a plan, adjusting and refining it, taking into account Dracula’s every possible reaction and weakness.
But even with the new arrival of this form, this was not the same battle as before; this time, he was ready.
"Northeast, twenty-two degrees," Alexander’s calm voice sliced through the chaos as Ricky adjusted and loosed another arrow. Dracula twisted mid-air, smirking, certain he had dodged the shot. But just as the arrow veered past him, he sensed a presence creeping up in his blind spot.
Before he could react, Rachael lunged, her blade glinting as she drove it toward his exposed side.
Dracula’s smirk twisted into a snarl as he threw his arm up to deflect her strike, but her claws cut deep, slicing across his forearm.
Blood splattered, and Dracula staggered backwards into a wall, eyes blazing with fury only to be met with another arrow.
Dracula tried to pivot away, but the arrow whistled by, grazing his cheek, and the heat burned against his skin.
Dracula growled under his breath, the primal fury bubbling just beneath the surface as he launched himself forward, muscles coiling with power, intent on bridging the distance that kept him at bay from his opponents.
The air crackled with the tension of the battle, but Ricky and Rachael were prepared.
As Dracula advanced, he could feel the heat of the arrows being drawn back, their destructive potential aimed directly at him.
With each step he took, an arrow flew, streaking toward him like a comet on a collision course.
Dracula would veer to the side, narrowly avoiding the first shot, but a second arrow would strike somewhere along his body, this time being his shoulder, exploding in a flash of light that seared his flesh and sent him sprawling.
Dracula grimaced, the pain igniting his rage further, but he pushed through it, forcing himself to focus.
Yet, as he regained his footing, he found Rachael closing in and she was quick, darting forward with agility that belied her size, her blade slicing through the air.
With a swift pivot, she would attack, aiming for his midsection and as Dracula met her with a desperate parry, wanting to sniff this pesky Van Helsing from the world, he would feel the arrowheads whispering past him, the heat a constant reminder of the danger.
It was a vicious cycle, Dracula would close the distance, but the relentless barrage of arrows kept him staggered.
He could sense Rachael lurking on the edge, waiting for her moment to strike and every attempt he made to overpower her resulted in a wound, each effort to dodge an arrow met with a calculated response from Ricky. It was infuriating.
For the first time in centuries, Dracula felt the walls closing in around him. He was not the predator; he was being hunted.
Dracula’s breath came in sharp bursts, and he realized he had to change his tactics.
This stalemate was chipping away at his being, and he could not afford to show weakness.
Dracula’s back slammed against the wall with a sickening thud as he barely avoided another arrow, but the impact left him reeling.
Rachael seized the opportunity, her kick landing squarely in his ribs and sending him sprawling backward.
Pain ignited through his body, but a fire blazed in his heart, a desperate determination to not just survive, but to annihilate the threats before him.
He felt the walls of the room close in around him, the pressure mounting as his enemies circled like vultures, waiting for the final blow.
“That is enough.”
In that moment, clarity cut through the chaos; he had no other choice.
His magic had failed him, repelled by Ricky's fierce bowmanship and Alexander's keen intellect.
So, with a primal roar that reverberated through the air, he made the most shocking decision of all.
With a swift, almost surreal motion, Dracula plunged his hand into his own chest.
The ground seemed to tremble beneath him as he grasped his heart, the core of his very being, and crushed it in a violent act of self-sacrifice.
A wave of energy pulsed outwards, and in the next instant, an earth-shattering sonic boom erupted, sending everyone flying backward, their bodies slamming against the walls as the sheer force of his action radiated outward.
The dust and debris filled the air, swirling chaotically as the magical power released from his core transformed him.
In this moment, he hovered on the edge of godlike power, a phenomenon neither Ricky nor Rachael could have prepared for.
Alexander, who had meticulously studied Dracula's every move, stood dumbfounded as the vampire's body swelled with energy beyond comprehension.
This was Varnae’s legacy realized, a terrifying manifestation of power drawn from his very essence.
Dracula's muscles expanded, bulging grotesquely to four times their normal size as he morphed into a nightmarish figure.
Dracula’s once elegant frame contorted into something primal and grotesque, his skin stretching taut over newly formed sinew and bone.
Ugly, horrid wings tore from his back, ripping through flesh and fabric, and the air crackled with a palpable energy that crushed everything in its wake.
The ground trembled beneath him, buckling under the weight of his transformation.
As he stood amidst the chaos, a monstrous silhouette against the backdrop of destruction, the remnants of his humanity flickered like a dying ember.
The room filled with an oppressive darkness, the light dimmed as if nature itself recoiled in horror.
The sheer power radiating from him was suffocating, a malevolence that sent shivers down the spines of those who dared to meet his gaze.
Dracula's eyes, now glowing with an unholy light, locked onto Ricky and Rachael.
Dracula felt invincible, yet a gnawing awareness tugged at him, the magic that coursed through his veins was fleeting.
Without his heart, he had tapped into a well of energy that would dissipate as quickly as it had come.
This was a final gamble, a reckless surge of strength that could not last.
“I thought he was all out of trump cards-”
THOOOOM
The throne room shook violently as Ricky's body was launched backward, crashing into the farthest wall with bone-jarring force.
Dust and debris erupted around him as he struggled to regain his bearings as the air was thick with the acrid smell of blood and sweat, mingling with the raw energy that pulsed from Dracula’s transformation.
WHOOSH
A sonic boom reverberated through the hall, the sound finally echoing off the ornate walls as Dracula’s form manifested where Ricky once stood, appearing like a dark specter amidst the chaos.
In the span of a heartbeat, Dracula unleashed five brutal punches, each blow resonating like a cannon blast against Ricky's body.
The sheer force behind them was staggering, shattering not just flesh but the very foundation of Ricky's skeletal structure.
Bones crunched with sickening finality, grinding into fragments as the impact reverberated through his body.
Each strike felt like a wrecking ball slamming into him, splintering his ribs and sending jagged shards into the surrounding muscle tissue, creating a grotesque tapestry of destruction.
Ricky gasped in pain, his vision blurring as agony radiated from his core as he could feel the sharpness of broken bone scraping against the interior of his muscles, like shards of glass embedded in raw flesh, tearing and ripping with every labored breath.
Blood poured from his mouth, a bitter coppery taste flooding his senses, mixing with the sweat that dripped down his brow.
Ricky tried to stand, his muscles screaming in protest as he crawled toward the ebony blade, desperate to reclaim his weapon.
His fingers stretched out, trembling with effort, only to have a boot land heavily on his wrist, pinning him down.
“You worthless bug.” Dracula sneered, his voice dripping with contempt.
CRUNCH
“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” The scream tore from Ricky’s throat, a raw and anguished cry as Dracula’s weight bore down mercilessly.
The sickening sound of bone shattering echoed in the chamber, the pressure reducing his wrist to a grotesque, bloody pulp.
“How dare you reduce me to such a state.” Dracula hatefully uttered, seizing Ricky by the collar, lifting him effortlessly from the ground before hurling him across the room.
BOOOM
The impact reverberated through the air as Ricky’s body collided with the wall, the force of the blow leaving a crater-like dent in the stone.
COUGH
Blood sprayed from his mouth, splattering the floor with vivid crimson droplets, as he struggled to catch his breath.
The sounds of his bones cracking echoed around him, each snap a cruel reminder of his fragile state, yet all he could hear was a relentless ringing that drowned out the chaos of the fight.
Ricky’s vision swam, dark spots dancing before his eyes as he fought to regain his bearings, knowing that Dracula's fury was far from satiated.
“That is enough playing around.” Dracula growled, his voice dripping with malice.
“KERUK!” Rachael’s eyes widened as the breath was squeezed from her lungs, Dracula suddenly grabbing her throat as panic flooding her senses.
“Now I’m going to kill you, turn you into a ghoul, then rip out Ricky’s core while I watch you feast on his barely clinging corpse.” Dracula hissed, his claws digging into her flesh, drawing blood.
Rachael’s instincts kicked in, and she clawed at his hand, but it was futile; his grip was unyielding.
The thrill of terror coursed through her, a potent mixture of rage and fear igniting within her as she could feel the strength fading from her limbs, the edges of her vision blurring as Dracula relished in her struggle.
His wicked smile widened, revealing the sharpness of his fangs, a harbinger of the gruesome fate he had in store.
“You’ll never win~” Rachael scratched out these words from throat, halting Dracula’s actions as he let out a hysterical laughter.
“You humans, preaching of good when all you ever do is bring chaos and dread in your wake.” Dracula's grip tightened on Rachael, preventing any chance of her intervening, his fingers like iron clamps around her throat.
“Do you not remember that I was once a human, too? My own kind, the very humans you revere, killed my loved ones, obliterated my everything, all for land that never belonged to them in the first place.” Dracula muttered, his voice low and laced with bitterness.
As he spoke, he noticed Rachael's desperate attempts to voice her thoughts, but he could read the fear in her eyes, the dawning realization as she connected the dots with Veredelt’s fate.
“If you believe that I should find some revelation, some clarity of purpose because my master tempted those at the Ottoman Empire, then you are sorely mistaken.” Dracula answered her with a malicious glint in his eyes.
Dracula poured his venomous rhetoric onto Rachael, watching as her breath hitched, her face paling beneath the strain.
“Is the snake entirely to blame for tempting Eve?” Dracula hissed, his words wrapping around her like a noose.
“Of course not, she had every option to refrain from biting that apple, yet she chose to do so anyway.” Dracula’s voice dripped with disdain as he continued.
“You preach of good, but what is evil, what is evil if not the very act of denying one’s own nature-
Ricky looked up, his mangled body struggling to heal against the overwhelming force that was Dracula.
Each breath was a laborious effort, and the cold grip of despair tightened around his chest as he realized that his fate was rapidly approaching.
Alexander, barely able to recover from his own injuries, staggered to the side, blood trickling down his forehead and pooling near his eyes.
The cacophony of battle reverberated in Ricky's ears, drowning out the sounds of Rachael's futile attempts to break free from Dracula's clutches.
As Dracula laughed at her, a chilling sound that echoed like thunder in the cavernous throne room, Ricky’s vision began to blur, darkness encroaching on the edges of his consciousness.
‘Need a hand?’
Time seemed to stretch and slow as Ricky's gaze fell upon the ebony blade resting nearby, its hilt gleaming ominously in the dim light.
It seemed to pulse with life, a sentient entity staring back at him with a knowing smile, as if it understood the gravity of his situation.
The blade’s presence ignited something deep within him, a flicker of determination amidst the overwhelming despair.
With a final effort, Ricky forced himself to reach for the blade, feeling the familiar coolness of the metal against his fingers.
“Such a spectacular fight, I must say.” The Ebony Blade clapped, its voice echoing with a haunting yet amused tone, resonating in the stillness of its realm.
Ricky stood within the blade's suspended space, far removed from the chaos of the throne room.
In this moment, time barely moved, allowing him to gather his thoughts and assess the dire situation.
He turned his gaze to the side, and there was Dracula, caught in an eternal moment of triumph, his laughter freezing mid-cackle as he held Rachael in his merciless grip.
Her struggles seemed futile, her expression a mixture of anger and desperation, yet it was as if she had been paused in the midst of her defiance, creating a surreal tableau that felt both unsettling and oddly serene.
“Dont’ worry time is somewhat froze in this space-”
“Give me all the power.” Ricky stretched out his hand, with a serious expression that betrayed every part of his personality.
Sigh
“Of course, you want my power. Which wielder didn’t?” The Ebony Blade sighed, its tone heavy with sarcasm as it began to pace around Ricky, an ethereal presence in the charged atmosphere.
“But that power comes at a price, a very steep price.” The Ebony Blade’s voice dropped to a whisper, wrapping around Ricky like an ominous web, filling the air with foreboding.
“I want you to kill a thousand people-”
“Fine, give me your power,” Ricky interrupted, holding out his hand, the desperation in his voice palpable as he brushed aside the horrific request. He was ready to embrace the darkness, unconcerned by the price attached to it. The blade's eyebrow twitched in disbelief.
“Of my choosing.” The Ebony Blade continued, the cadence of its words taking on a more sinister edge.
“I want you to kill one thousand innocent people-”
“Fine-”
“NO, NO, NO, NO, NO! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?” The Ebony Blade stomped in place, its form flickering as if it was caught between disbelief and frustration as it clutched its head, its frustration palpable in the still air.
“What is your deal? I’m trying to coexist with you, and even accept your deal-”
“BECAUSE YOUR BLOODLINE IS SUPPOSED TO BE A BUNCH OF HYPOCRITICAL JUSTICE SEEKERS!” The Ebony Blade screeched, the intensity of its voice causing the very fabric of its domain to tremble violently.
“YOU ARE HYPOCRITICAL, YOUR ANCESTORS ARE HYPOCRITICAL! YOU ALWAYS BELIEVE IN NOBLE JUSTICE WHILE KILLING MILLIONS UNDER THE IDEAL OF GOOD-”
It poked Ricky’s chest forcefully, the blade’s presence pressing down on him, burdening him with the weight of its words.
Ricky, overwhelmed by the accusation, pushed it away, the force of his action reverberating in the stillness of the realm.
“I don't care about being a good person, I don’t strive to always do the right thing. I wake up everyday to do whatever I want, whenever I want it!” Ricky yelled his words into his blades skulls, frustrated at how many times he had to say it for this dull blade to understand
The Ebony Blade was a little speechless, taking a couple steps back only for Ricky to take one step forward.
“Why do you hate me so much-”
“BECAUSE THAT IS NOT HOW PERCIVAL WOULD’VE ACTED!” The Ebony Blade screamed back at Ricky, who suddenly looked taken aback, his expression shifting to one of disbelief.
“Woooooooooooooooooooooow~” Ricky rolled his eyes, the dramatic display only serving to amplify the blade's frustration.
The Ebony Blade, unable to contain its anger, paced furiously around him, its energy crackling in the air like a tempest.
In that moment, Ricky realized the truth, this was never about him and the Ebony Blade.
It was a vessel for the blade’s deep-seated resentment towards Percival, the one who had first wielded its power.
“You do not understand what Percival had done to me.” The blade seethed, its voice thick with bitterness.
“He wasn’t merely my first user, but the first person to unlock the sheer power that lies within me.” The Ebony Blade thumped its chest, and Ricky's gaze darted to the vision, noting how Dracula inched closer, an ever-present threat as although time seemingly stopped, it didn’t stop completely.
“He saw the power I could possess firsthand, how it could change the world and turn the tide of any battle, and shunned me for it!” The Ebony Blade’s voice dripped with hatred as it projected its feelings onto Ricky, who frowned at this revelation, recognizing the twisted history they shared.
“You want to know why you see those memories and can’t control yourself?” The blade continued, its tone sharp and accusatory.
“Because that is the side effect of power, my power, which draws out the very worst in people!” The Ebony Blade vented out its frustration towards Ricky, showing that it was merely born this way and nothing more.
“However, instead of wielding me with truth, that bastard only saw what would happen if this power ended up in the hands of those impure of thought.” The Ebony Blade words were laced with venom as the blade recalled its betrayal.
“So instead of fighting Morgana and freeing Camelot, he took the cowardly approach and used all his power in a ritual to bind me to his bloodline, forever!” The Ebony Blade screeched, its anguish palpable.
For years, the sword that longed for battle and glory was reduced to a mere tool, shackled by the fears of its first wielder.
It could only watch in frustration as its potential was stifled, chained to the descendants of a man who feared the very power that could have changed everything.
Ricky stood amidst the chaos, grappling with the weight of the blade’s history, and the burden of the legacy that now fell upon him.
“That’s the reason why you f*cking hate me, really!” Ricky yelled at the Ebony Blade, exasperation spilling from every word as he grappled with the intensity of the moment.
“YES! I’M A SWORD WHO DOESN’T WANT TO BE CHAINED BY BLOOD BUT CUT THROUGH IT!” The blade's voice rang out, filled with frustration and a fervent desire for liberation.
“Fine, you know what, let’s make another deal instead.” Ricky’s tone shifted, a spark of determination igniting in his chest.
“Listen, I could go around killing a thousand people and be a psychotic murderer, but I know that’s not what you really want.” Ricky’s voice surged with conviction, stepping forward to meet the blade’s makeshift eyes.
“I will figure out a way to release you from the bloodline, if you cooperate with me, ALL THE TIME!” Ricky struck his hands together, startling the Ebony Blade with the intensity of his proclamation.
“It can’t be selective; you and I have to be on the same page all the time.” Ricky continued, frustration pouring out of him.
“I am so sick and tired of you invading my mind, instilling random bouts of anger, then pretending as if you did no wrong.” Ricky recalled the memory of the mafia incident resurfaced, fueling his words.
The Ebony Blade hesitated, taken aback by Ricky's unexpected declaration.
This was information it hadn’t anticipated revealing, yet it understood the gravity of Percival’s choices and the burden they placed on Ricky.
Unlike every other wielder who had accepted their lineage without question, Ricky stood apart, the black sheep of a bloodline steeped in chivalry and tradition.
“I’ll give you your freedom and find a way to break this spell, but if I do it, you have to have my back along the way. Got it?” Ricky extended his hand, locking eyes with the blade.
The Ebony Blade was momentarily stunned, bewildered by the idea that Ricky would even suggest such a thing.
“I’m tired of fighting with you. Do we have a deal?” Ricky pressed, a fierce resolve burning in his gaze as he asked once more.
The Ebony Blade was caught off guard; this was not how things were supposed to unfold.
It was a weapon meant for destruction, a force of chaos, and yet here was Ricky, offering an alliance, a chance at freedom.
The blade’s internal conflict raged as it had been crafted to embody power and rage, but the prospect of true freedom beckoned alluringly.
“Deal.” The Ebony Blade finally uttered, its voice steady, though tinged with disbelief.
“If you promise to free me, then I shall assist you to the fullest.”
As their hands clasped together, an electric current surged between them, red sparks igniting in the air like fireflies in the dark.
The full force of the Ebony Blade, a primal energy that longed to cleave through the world, pulsed into Ricky’s being.
“The only way you stand a chance is if you use my full power and everything you have.” The Ebony Blade warned, its tone grave and serious.
“But I must warn you, it comes with a grave cost: you will use your sanity.”
“You could lose everything.”
The Ebony Blade seriously gazed into Ricky eyes and for the first time, his smile slowly returned.
“I’m not gonna lose, not his time.”
WHOOOOOOOOOOSH
In real time, as Dracula's claws loomed ominously, poised to carve Rachael's flesh, Ricky’s supposedly crushed body surged to life amidst the chaos as a crimson glow enveloping his form.
“Oh, has the hero come to save the princess-”
“Just shut the f*ck up.” Ricky raised his gaze, defiance etched across his face as he felt the immense weight of the Ebony Blade’s power threatening to consume him whole.
The red energy swirled around him, pulsing with an intensity that surged like a wildfire, each heartbeat echoing with the chaotic blend of his abilities.
In the tension-filled air, Dracula’s mocking laughter faded, his smirk faltering as he sensed the shifting tides of power.
It was then, amidst the vampire’s widening eyes, that Ricky's aura exploded to a whole new level.
A kaleidoscope of colors erupted from him, vibrant hues swirling and dancing like living flames, each representing the skills he had honed through relentless struggle: Psionic Pyro-Sovereignty glimmered with fiery intensity, Radiant Harmony Aura shimmered with a soft, ethereal glow, the piercing gaze of the Emperor Eye shone with unparalleled clarity, and Intuitive Mechanical Mastery pulsed with the rhythm of unbreakable resolve.
As Dracula carelessly threw Rachael to the side, Ricky felt the surge of his magic and the eldritch flames from his gauntlets rising like an inferno, merging and intertwining in a dazzling display of raw energy.
[Dual Link Activated]
Alexander could tell this was the last stand, activating the duel link and putting his entire faith into Ricky as he closed his eyes, melting into his being.
“I can’t stomach having to sit through another lecture about someone else’s ideals, using your nature as an excuse to let you all sleep at night.” Ricky grunted, his mind straining under the tremendous pressure of the Ebony Blade.
The powers swirled violently around him, each one struggling for dominance, yet somehow the blade cut through all the restrictions as they began to blend, their essence intermingling despite their inherent incompatibility.
“Good?” Ricky sneered, gritting his teeth against the agony that coursed through him.
“Evil?” Ricky spat, his voice laced with contempt.
“It’s all just bullsh*t.”
The overload of energy surged through him like a tidal wave, threatening to tear him apart as his body strained against the forces wrestling within.
His system panel flickered ominously, alarms ringing in the depths of his consciousness, warning him of the chaos brewing inside.
Yet, he stood firm, refusing to be consumed by the madness as the energies swirled into a tempest around him, creating a maelstrom of power, a vortex that began to coalesce into something greater, a manifestation of his will, a manifestation of the very abnormal abomination he was in this world, in this reality.
[Error]
[Error]
[Skills &**$#@Q fusing into &^A%& The Whispering Void gives its approval*&%^&EH]
[Does the user wish to merge the skills]
DING
[New Mythic Skill Created: Eldritch Abomination]
Description: An Eldritch horror that should not and cannot exist yet has been permitted by the looming depths of the whispering void to give birth to such a horrifying creation. The Eldritch Abomination represents the convergence of all that is unnatural and chaotic, a manifestation of Ricky's defiance against the established order of power and morality. It stands as a testament to his resilience and determination to wield a power beyond comprehension.
Powers and Abilities:
Feed: This ability allows Ricky to consume any skill or power below the grade of Eldritch Abomination, assimilating their essence to further augment his own power. The absorbed skills can be restructured and incorporated into his abilities, enhancing their effectiveness or even transforming them into new forms. The more he consumes, the more potent the Eldritch Abomination becomes, evolving in ways that defy conventional understanding of power hierarchies.
‘Feed it all.’ Ricky whispered internally, an echo of determination reverberating within him.
As Dracula lunged forward, fueled by his confidence, a terrible wave of void-black energy exploded from Ricky, sending the vampire crashing back with a force that rattled the very air.
Ricky’s transformation had reached its zenith, his figure cloaked in an aura that felt like the abyss itself.
His eyes, once vibrant with white color of human emotion, now presented a haunting sight, voids of color that swallowed light, with red and green irises flickering like angry stars in a swirling cosmos.
The veins surrounding his eyes pulsed black, marking him as a vessel of something far more powerful and dark than mere mortal strength.
Hunched slightly, Ricky exuded an aura of malevolence and power as from his back, black chains unfurled like sentient tentacles, writhing and twisting with a life of their own.
Each chain glistened with a dark sheen, whispering of ancient, forbidden knowledge and a thirst for chaos as they lashed out occasionally, tasting the air, eager for the taste of blood.
His gauntlets had melted into his hands, fusing with his very being, making him a part of the Eldritch Abomination itself.
The blackened flesh radiated a heat that felt like the core of a dying star, crackling with energy.
The Ebony Blade gripped tightly in his transformed hand, pulsated with eldritch fire that flickered and roared, a hellish blend of black flames and crackling red electricity that danced around him like wild serpents seeking their prey.
“Her constant spouting of justice.” Ricky declared, disdain etched into his features, the remnants of Percival’s ideals echoing in his mind.
“And your hatred.” Ricky countered, recognizing the darkness that had been projected onto him by the Ebony Blade.
“I reject them both!” Ricky shouted, his words a defiant roar against the forces that sought to control him as his void black aura exploded outwards..
“The only thing that matters, the only ideal that will reach my ears, and the only story that will be told after I rip your skull from your head.” Ricky paused, the energy swirling around him reaching a fever pitch, drawing from every skill and emotion he had ever wielded.
“IS WHATEVER I F*CKING SAY IT IS!”
THOOOOM
