Lightning snapped through the bloodied clouds above them as Yamino stepped forward, cracked bones realigning themselves with a sickening crunch. His glare met hers—not just with rage now, but something far more volatile.
Fascination.
Lilisha licked the blood from her lips and smiled like a queen admiring her challenger.
"You taste divine, my king."
"I'll make you choke on it next time," Yamino growled.
Her wings opened wide. "Then show me how cruel you can be."
And the dance began.
---
She moved first.
Lilisha twirled midair like a ballerina of hellfire, her clawed heel slicing the air. The force of it shattered the ground, sending obsidian shards flying.
Yamino spun beneath it—graceful despite the weight of his weapons. He dodged the heel, pivoted, and drove a gauntleted fist toward her chest.
She caught it—bare-handed. Her fingers trembled from the impact, but she laughed, delighted.
"So strong," she whispered. "But still gentle."
Yamino narrowed his eyes. "Don't confuse hesitation with mercy."
She smirked. "Oh, I never do."
---
They clashed again—blade against claw, kiss against curse.
Lilisha's left hand danced across his ribs—tracing, teasing, and slicing open flesh.
Yamino responded with a knee to her gut and a savage elbow that cracked one of her horns.
She moaned.
And smiled wider.
"You're making me fall for you," she gasped, blood dripping from her mouth.
Yamino gritted his teeth. "Then die in love."
He summoned a beast form—a partial shift. His right arm became a scaled predator's limb, claws seething with corrupted grim energy.
Lilisha blew a kiss at him. "Oh, I'm already dying for you, Yamino."
---
Boom!
They collided midair, shockwaves exploding outward. Her tail wrapped around his leg, trying to bind him. He grabbed it and swung her like a weapon, slamming her body into a dead tree with a crack of bone.
She rose from the crater, laughing. Her spine bent unnaturally as it healed.
"Abuse me harder, darling."
"You're insane."
"Of course," she grinned. "What do you expect from a succubus?"
---
Ten minutes.
That's how long they fought.
Not for the game. Not for survival.
But for something else—something raw.
Every time their bodies touched, there was a spark. Blood, sweat, and fire became perfume in the air. His claws sliced her arm; her kiss nearly turned his lungs into liquid. They breathed each other in with every strike.
At some point, Yamino pinned her against a rock.
Their weapons clattered to the ground.
And their eyes met.
Her lips were inches from his.
"Just kill me already," she whispered, voice husky.
Yamino's heart pounded. "Why?"
"Because if you don't…" she leaned in, "I might kiss you."
"…What if I let you?"
They didn't kiss.
But they could have.
---
Then she pushed him off and vanished, her form turning to shadow. From behind, her voice echoed:
"Not yet, my king. Let's make this dance last."
Yamino exhaled, shaking with adrenaline.
She had nearly made him forget this was a battlefield.
---
[ Warning: Competitor Lilisha Nightveil – Escaped. Tracking resumed. ]
[ You've formed a temporary bond: Crimson Thread of Conflict – Duration: Until One is Claimed ]
---
Yamino looked at the sky, then at his trembling hand.
It wasn't pain he felt.
It wasn't rage.
It was desire—the kind that kills.
And he didn't know if he wanted to chase her down…
…or let her find him again.
Either way… their dance wasn't over.
The battlefield had no center—only blood-soaked chaos and sharpened will.
While Yamino stood in silence, still tasting Lilisha's madness in his pulse, the arena screamed with other monsters.
Five of them.
---
1. The Bone-Fanged Monk – Asuro of the South Temple
Clad in crimson robes stained black from dried blood, Asuro moved like a ghost across the sand dunes. He was barefoot. Calm. Eyes closed.
His opponent—a speedster who manipulated lightning—circled him at Mach speed, hurling bolts with each step.
But Asuro only opened his mouth.
And bit the air.
The entire storm of lightning reversed, folding in on itself and crashing into the speedster's own heart.
Asuro stepped forward, reached into the smoldering corpse, and pulled out the opponent's soul core. He devoured it, eyes still closed.
"Too loud," he muttered.
[ Asuro has copied the skill: Thunderstride Lv.4 ]
[ Current Power: Bone Devourer + Thunderstride ]
---
2. The Puppeteer of the White Strings – Sereia, the Laughing Marionette
In the remains of a ruined opera house, Sereia danced.
Her body was pale as porcelain, moving with the elegance of a ballerina—except her fingers were tipped with razored wires. Her opponent, a brute made of molten stone, charged like a tank.
She didn't dodge.
Instead, she moved his limbs like he was one of her dolls.
With invisible threads laced into his nervous system, Sereia made the lava-beast stab itself repeatedly with its own burning fists.
Then she made him applaud his own death.
As the brute collapsed in flames, Sereia bowed to the empty seats.
[ Sereia has copied: Magma Core – Type A ]
[ Current Power: String Queen + Magma Constructs ]
---
3. The Crimson Hunter – Vehras, the Bloodforged
Vehras was a shadow in motion, leaping from corpse to corpse across a forest made of flesh—trees twisted by previous battles.
His face was painted in blood, but not a drop was his.
A telekinetic user had built a dome of force around herself, controlling the very pressure of the air to form invisible blades.
Vehras cut through them—literally.
His blood-forged greatsword drank the air, slicing apart the pressure itself.
The woman screamed, levitated into the air—and Vehras followed her, walking on nothing but floating blood.
With one clean swipe, he took her head and spine in a single motion.
"Give me your fear," he whispered, drinking her soul.
[ Vehras has copied: Pressure Telekinesis Lv.6 ]
[ Current Power: Bloodforged Blade + Telekinetic Crush ]
---
4. The Iceborne Warlock – Haldras, the Cold King
On a floating glacier above a crater lake, Haldras stood surrounded by frost dragons of his own creation.
His opponent—a fire necromancer—hurled molten skeletons at him, each one exploding into napalm flame.
Haldras's face was emotionless. He raised his gloved fingers.
One snap.
Absolute Zero Pulse.
Everything—fire, bone, sky—froze in a sphere of death. The necromancer's jaw cracked mid-scream as even time seemed to halt inside the frozen orb.
Then Haldras crushed the orb.
It shattered like glass. The man's soul drifted out like ash.
Haldras took it.
[ Haldras has copied: Infernal Necromancy Lv.5 ]
[ Current Power: Frost Dominion + Soul Pyre ]
---
5. The Iron Jester – Clown 47
Inside an underground subway tunnel, music echoed.
Laughter.
A honking horn.
Then screaming.
Clown 47 wore a metal mask shaped like a cracked smile. His opponent—a beast shifter with nine forms—roared in agony as a jack-in-the-box erupted from the ground beneath him, slicing off one limb per bar of its music.
The clown spun on a unicycle, juggling heads.
Then he threw a rubber chicken that exploded like a bomb.
The beast shifter tried to flee in dragon form.
Wrong move.
Clown 47 caught him with a balloon trap—one that snapped shut like a guillotine and froze time inside it. With a sigh, the clown stabbed the balloon.
Pop.
Blood.
[ Clown 47 has copied: Beastform Arsenal Lv.7 ]
[ Current Power: Clockwork Clown Arts + Chimera Shift ]
---
[ Current Players Remaining: 194 ]
---
High above them all, Yamino watched the skies as the crimson clouds churned with madness.
These were no longer just players.
They were gods in the making.
And he was surrounded by future monsters—and future prey.
The final round… was only beginning.