The moment Liam allocated the points, something inside him snapped into place.
A rush of sharpness coursed through every nerve in his body, like his brain had just been wired to perfection.
His senses expanded.
His limbs felt lighter, more responsive, as if time itself had slowed down for everything but him.
Agility: 188.
It was more than just speedâit was perception, reflex, timing, precision, coordination.
There was a reason he didnât dump the points into strength or endurance.
He wasnât losing this fight because he wasnât powerful.
He was losing because these bastards were too fast, too coordinated. His reactions, his ability to read and respondâit just wasnât enough before.
But now?
Now it was different.
The moment Liam opened his eyes again, they gleamed with new clarity.
In the blink of an eye, he moved.
To Lana, watching from a distance, it was like he disappeared in a gust of wind. Even the firelight struggled to catch his blur of motion.
BOOM!
He reappeared in front of one of the armored vampires, fist already cocked back. The vampire reacted just in time to flinchâbarely avoiding the first punch.
But Liam was already throwing the second.
CRACK!
The blow smashed into the vampireâs chest like a cannon, sending him flying backward like a ragdoll, crashing through broken trees and chunks of debris.
Liam stood there for just half a second, chest rising and falling calmly.
The reflexes he just displayed werenât human.
They werenât even close.
The remaining three vampires realized it instantly.
They didnât charge blindly.
Noânow they surrounded him.
Positioning themselves in a wide triangle, they stood just outside his reach, hands glowing as blood energy gathered in each palm.
Liamâs eyes narrowed.
He knew what was coming.
In perfect unison, all three slashed their arms outward.
Whoooosh!
Three razor-thin, glowing red energy slashes blasted toward him, screaming through the air at terrifying speed.
To anyone else, it wouldâve been death.
Even Lana, watching from a nearby slope, felt her breath freeze in her lungs. Her hand clutched her chest as her pupils dilated.
"No..." she whispered, fear spreading across her face. "Thereâs no way he can dodge that..."
The attacks were coming from three different anglesâleft, right, and front. There was no way out.
Except Liam didnât panic.
His eyes sharpened, mind calculating everything in less than a second.
Distance. Angle. Trajectory. Escape point.
Then he activated it.
[Dragon Steps â Level 2]
Suddenly, the world bent around him.
Liamâs feet hit the ground with explosive force, and thenâBOOMâhe shot out at an impossible angle.
The glowing red lines sliced through the air, but Liam was gone.
He blurred past the leftmost attack, ducked beneath the second, then twisted his body in mid-air like a serpent to evade the final slash by mere inches.
He reappeared just before one of the vampires, his hand already clamping down around the guardâs throat.
The armored vampire barely had time to gasp.
Liamâs hand tightened, lifting the vampire clean off the ground.
Then it began.
BANG!
A punch to the face.
BANG!
Another.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Each blow was like a hammer forged by gods. The sheer speed and strength in Liamâs fists now made the air ripple around them.
The vampireâs head snapped back violently with each strike, helmet denting more and more.
BANG!
Blood splattered from the nose gap in the helmet.
BANG!
One of the fangs cracked and flew out of his mouth.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Liam didnât stop.
His body moved like a machineâruthless, precise, relentless.
He didnât give the vampire a single second to regenerate. Every time the wounds tried to close, heâd hit againâfaster, harder.
This was it.
Heâd realized something during the beatdown.
These things were insanely durable. Their regeneration was off the charts.
But it wasnât infinite.
If he hit them hard enough, fast enough, brutal enoughâhe could overwhelm their healing factor.
Not kill them instantly, but disrupt their system so badly it bought him time.
He wasnât fighting to just land one hit.
He was fighting to brutalize.
And it was working.
Finally, after a dozen punches that blurred the vampireâs face into a swollen mess, Liam dropped the limp body to the ground.
The vampire gasped for breath, eyes barely open, trying to recoverâbut his regeneration had halted, stunned by the sheer trauma.
Liam stepped back, blood dripping from his knuckles.
His chest rose and fell calmly again.
He looked at the remaining two vampires now, both of whom had taken a more cautious stance.
They werenât charging in anymore.
Liamâs speed had shifted the battlefield.
He wiped the blood off his chin and tilted his head at them.
"Next."
"Step back," Boris said, his voice low but firm.
The two remaining vampires didnât hesitate. They exhaled deeplyârelief flooding their undead veinsâas they backed away from Liamâs line of sight.
They knew.
Even if they didnât want to admit it, they knew.
Only Boris stood a chance now.
The pair moved quickly, dashing toward the two fallen comrades Liam had ravaged. One still lay unconscious from the savage beating, his regeneration stunted and body twitching erratically. The other was the first Liam had struck down with the Feather Shards skillâstill alive, though barely.
His skin was pale, drenched in blood, a gaping hole where his stomach used to be. His armor had been blown apart, and his breathing was shallow.
But he hadnât turned to ash.
He wasnât dead... yet.
The vampires reached him and immediately began checking his pulse and stabilizing him. But their attention wasnât on the battlefield anymore.
They left it to their leader now.
Boris walked forward, calm and steady, his boots pressing softly into the blood-stained forest floor.
His cold gaze stayed fixed on Liam.
"Youâve got thick skin," Boris said finally. His voice was smooth, deep, laced with something close to amusement. "Every time I think Iâve seen what you can do, you pull something else out of your ass."
Liam didnât respond.
He stood still, breathing low, his eyes locked on Boris, watchingâcalculating.
Boris continued, unfazed. "So tell me... how exactly did you get your powers?"
Liam stared.
Then he muttered a single word.
"Fuck off."
Boris chuckled at that, shaking his head slowly like a man indulging a particularly arrogant child.
"Still keeping secrets," he murmured. "Thatâs fine. Wonât matter in a few minutes anyway."
Then, he did something Liam didnât expect.
He reached into his armor.
Liamâs muscles tensed immediately, body on edge as Boris pulled something out from beneath the thick, black chestplate.
It was a daggerâsmall, jagged, and ugly.
But it radiated power.
It looked like it was carved straight out of volcanic rock. The blade shimmered with faint cracks running through it, glowing red and orange like magma pulsing beneath stone.
As soon as it was exposed to the air, Liam felt something... wrong. The air changed, as if every particle around the blade trembled in fear.
Thenâ
[DING!]
[WARNING!]
[Avoid the dagger!]
Liamâs eyes widened.
[Toxic Relic Detected: "Bloodfire Fang"]
[Effect: Lethal contact. Even a scratch will result in irreversible internal damage.]
[System resistance ineffective against this relic. Immediate evasion is advised.]
Liamâs heart dropped into his stomach.
What the hell was this thing?
He swallowed hard and asked inwardly, "System... what does it do?"
The reply came instantly.
[The âBloodfire Fangâ is an ancient relic created by vampiric high priests during the Crimson Era. A stab or slash from this weapon causes the victimâs blood to boil within their veins. The process mimics deep-frying in molten oilâagonizing, slow, and irreversible. Victims do not die quickly. They remain conscious, trapped in unbearable agony until the body gives out.]
Liamâs expression dropped.
"What the fâ" he whispered under his breath.
His skin crawled.
He had seen some messed up things before. He had endured pain, torture, near-death.
But this?
This was monstrous.
Boris caught the change in his expression. His eyes narrowed sharply, and the corner of his mouth curled into a knowing smirk.
"Oh?" he said. "Whatâs wrong, Liam? Donât tell me... you know what this is?"
Liam didnât reply.
He couldnât.
Not with his jaw clenched that tight.
But the look on his face said everything.
Borisâs smirk turned into a grinâwide and cruel.
"I was right," he said, lifting the dagger and admiring its glow. "You do know what it is. And you also know..."
He took a step forward, dagger glowing like it had a pulse of its own.
"...that this will be the end of you."
---