Dracula stood still, now left with only his formidable physical abilities to wage the fight.
It felt like a near-suicidal endeavor, considering the vast arsenal of abilities Aaron commanded at his beck and call, each one a tool of overwhelming versatility and destruction.
Aaron bent space with a subtle twist of his will, vanishing from his position in a ripple of distorted reality.
He reappeared silently behind Dracula, the transition instantaneous, positioning himself for a decisive strike from the blind spot.
Dracula turned swiftly, his instincts honed by eons of survival kicking in.
He threw a powerful swing toward Aaron's face, his fist cutting through the air with blistering speed, aimed to crush bone and end the exchange.
But he realized too late that his hand had been severed cleanly before it could even touch Aaron.
