The blinding thunderbolt ripped through space, streaking toward the blade of the ancient sword suspended above the blood orb.
The blood orb, silent until now, screamed in rage.
It spun violently, and a thick crimson mist erupted upward, twisting and churning as if to smother the sword and shield it from Daniel's lightning strike.
The evil consciousness within the orb had sensed it — the moment of true danger.
For centuries, that sword had been its prison. Though the evil had corroded the weapon over time, seeping into its grooves like venom through veins, it had never been able to truly escape the seal.
If Daniel gained control of the sword, the entire balance would break. The evil knew it would be annihilated.
Blood shadows rushed Daniel from all directions, screaming with a hunger born of despair. They didn't care if they were destroyed by his Sunlight Domain; even a moment of interference could shift the tide.
But Daniel's focus was absolute.
His lightning tore through the mist, unrelenting. In an instant, it struck the sword's blade.
A resonant chime rang out.
The sound was felt, like a shockwave rattling through bone and soul.
The blood shadows froze mid-charge, their bodies stiff as if an unseen force had paralyzed them.
On the sword's blade, the thunder raged, feeding into the ancient steel. It coursed downward like a river of white fire, slamming toward the blood orb.
The core of the evil consciousness pulsed, writhing under the assault.
Daniel's golden eyes narrowed, "Let's see how you handle this."
The crimson vein carved into the sword's spine suddenly twisted, splintering into dozens of branches, desperately fighting back against the thunder.
The clash of forces made a shrill, piercing screech — lightning and blood magic grinding against each other, neither willing to yield.
Daniel stepped forward.
As he moved, the wand planted in the ground followed, gliding silently across the floor as if obeying his will, inching closer to the sword and the orb.
That was when Daniel felt it — the full, suffocating presence of the evil consciousness.
Its attention snapped onto him like a predator fixing its gaze on prey.
The balance of the hall shifted.
The Sunlight Domain wavered as the blood shadows caught fire at its edges, their fleshless bodies hissing and smoking.
The thick smoke burned with a stench so acrid it clawed at the lungs. Daniel couldn't allow it to spread inside his domain.
With a mere flicker of thought, a sharp wind howled through the domain, clearing the poisonous haze.
The evil's fury rolled through the hall like a storm.
Daniel could feel it — a rage that was powerless yet unrelenting.
That frustration only revealed its true weakness.
"Angry, are you?" Daniel muttered, lips curving into a cold smile. "Then watch as I tear apart the last thing keeping you tethered to this world."
He advanced again, determination etched into every line of his face.
If he destroyed the blood orb, the Hand's immortality would vanish with it. They would lose their eternal resurrection, their most feared advantage.
Without it, they would be reduced to just another underground syndicate.
Daniel's mind flashed briefly to the hierarchy of hidden forces that ruled from the shadows:
The Holy See,
The Knights,
The Brotherhood,
The Wizarding Orders —
Each had survived for tens of thousands of years, wielding power far beyond mortal reach.
Compared to them, the Hand was young. Without their dark resurrection, they would crumble before these ancient powers.
The blood orb sensed Daniel's resolve and retaliated.
It spun faster, unleashing shards of red light like spears. They pierced through the Sunlight Domain, scattering Daniel's advance.
And then the orb's light changed — a dense scarlet glare burst forward, tearing open parts of his domain.
Through the gaps, the blood shadows poured in with hideous grins, clawing and snapping, desperate to shred him apart.
Daniel ignored them.
His focus was on the pure blood light, the essence of the evil will.
Even from several meters away, he felt its grip.
His blood churned violently, rushing through his veins at an unnatural speed. Pressure built inside his body — muscles, organs, even cells felt like they were about to burst.
A single slip, and he'd explode from within.
"Hmph." Daniel's low growl cut through the chaos.
He had anticipated this. The control of blood was an insidious technique, one he had encountered among the ancient blood clans before.
Reaching to his neck, Daniel tore off a silver necklace.
At its center was a dark blue gemstone, cold as glacial ice.
The gem's deep hue seemed to swallow the light, and if one stared long enough, faint shadows — almost black — flickered within its depths.
This wasn't a mere ornament. It was a frost magic core, the crystallized heart of a frost behemoth, taken from the Frost Giants of Jotunheim.
Daniel clenched the core in his hand. Cold light flickered in his eyes.
The core pulsed, sending a wave of freezing power surging through his body.
The boiling storm of his blood stilled, slowing to a calm, heavy rhythm. The danger receded.
But Daniel didn't dare flood his body with too much frost power, even his physique would be torn apart by that cold if overused.
Instead, he turned his full attention back to the scarlet light, now weaving closer like living threads of malice.
Daniel roared, channeling the frost core's power.
A burst of dark blue light erupted from his hand, cutting through the air like a glacier shattering.
The frost collided with the scarlet energy, and the two forces met with annihilation, both vanishing into nothingness the moment they touched.
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