As the Phoenix breathed its final, a deafening, earth-shattering screech reverberated through the heavens, causing the very ground beneath to quake in its wake.
The Phoenix had fallen.
The Specters, their gazes fixed upon the representative of the Phoenix race, awaited some form of response.
At the very least, they anticipated a reaction from Serenelle's parents, an acknowledgment, a flicker of grief.
But what they encountered was nothing short of unnerving.
Neither the father nor the mother moved, their expressions as impassive as stone.
There was no sign of sorrow, no tremor of emotion.
It was as if their daughter's demise had been a mere whisper in the winds of fate, entirely inconsequential to them.
As the anguished screech finally faded, Serenelle's form began to disintegrate before their eyes, her body crumbling into ash, as if the very essence of her existence had been severed from the fabric of the world.
Elsewhere, in the midst of another storm of battle, Anthony was locked in fierce combat with Aurelia.
The battleground was a bleak and twisted landscape.
Blackened trees reached into a sky filled with the remnants of fading light.
The earth trembled as the clash of blood and darkness loomed, several miles of this desolate plain had been ravaged by previous conflicts.
The air was thick with bloodlust, and the scent of decay hung heavily around the perimeter.
The battle had stretched on for what seemed like an eternity, a relentless clash of wills and power, but Aurelia's vampiric healing abilities proved to be an unyielding shield, allowing her to withstand the onslaught time and again.
Anthony, ever the tempest, flashed across the battlefield with a speed so blinding it nearly defied the senses, his presence almost imperceptible to her, even as he parried one of her relentless strikes with effortless precision.
His katana hummed with an insatiable hunger for battle, its blade vibrating with the surging energy that flowed through it like a torrent, growing more volatile with every passing moment.
In stark contrast, Aurelia seemed to struggle, her movements hindered by the overwhelming disparity between their speeds.
Anthony's strikes flowed with grace and lethal intent, each slash executed with the fluidity of a master, while Aurelia was left scrambling, her spear snapping to life like a serpent as she desperately deflected a portion of his strikes.
Yet, despite her best efforts, many of his blows still found their mark, slicing through her body with unrelenting force.
The cuts, deep and savage, lacerated her delicate skin, yet, as always, the healing process was swift.
The injuries appeared and vanished in the blink of an eye, an almost unnatural regeneration, but though her body healed with alarming speed, her pride did not.
No matter how often her wounds mended, the sting of defeat still lingered, and the pain, while fleeting, was not something she cherished.
With a swift, calculated motion, she disengaged, using the brief respite to create distance between herself and Anthony.
She moved like a shadow across the battlefield, the weight of her pride and resolve pushing her forward.
'How can a human be this strong'
Aurelia's gaze remained fixed on Anthony, who stood undeterred, not a single injury marking his form, his breath unaltered.
As she pondered the sight before her, Anthony's voice broke through the stillness, emanating from where he stood.
"it isn't your fault"
Aurelia looked at him and asked.
"What do you mean?"
Anthony replied without speaking much.
"It means you drew the short end of the stick"
Aurelia remained silent, her resolve hardening as she fixed her gaze on Anthony.
No questions, no response, only the fierce determination to end this human, whose very existence now seemed an affront to her.
With a swift, deliberate motion, she raised her hand.
For a brief, unnerving moment, her blood seemed to halt in her veins, before it surged once more, faster and more violently.
Three shimmering droplets of blood, drawn from the depths of her heart, emerged, suspended between her fingers.
They hung in the air, swirling around her like a dark omen, their presence palpable with ominous energy.
Aurelia's face paled as she watched the droplets spin, the strain evident in her features.
It seemed that even her vampiric regenerative powers could not keep up with the toll this technique exacted on her body.
[Vampiric Blood Art: Perfect Clone]
With a violent surge, three perfect replicas of Aurelia manifested, each one armed with distinct abilities, a terrifying blend of her mastery over Blood magic, Spear techniques, and the Darkness element
But these three Aurelia's weren't like the first clone Aurelia created, which didn't even possess more than half of her original prowess.
With a single spin, his katana cleaved through the shadowy attacks one after another, his senses heightened as he felt the pulse of energy surrounding the clone.
Finally, with a single, definitive motion, he twisted his katana in a complex arc, his blade cutting through the fabric of shadow itself.
The clone seeing all her attack being demolished instantly, she moved into the next technique.
[Darkness Technique: Abyssal Pierce]
But.
The attack was met with nothing but empty air.
The clone had miscalculated.
Anthony's katana moved faster than she could anticipate, and as she reformed in front of him, her spear raised for the final strike,
Anthony's blade cleaved through her.
She vanished in an explosion of inky blackness, leaving only the faintest trace of dissipating shadows.
With all her clones destroyed, Aurelia, the last living vestige of her perfect plan, was left alone in the desolation.
She staggered back, her knees threatening to buckle beneath her.
Her spear, driven deep into the earth, was the only thing holding her upright.
Her once-pristine form was now bloodied and battered.
Her regenerating body could only heal so fast.
The toll of the battle weighed heavily on her, her breathing was ragged, her eyes burning with the final flicker of defiance.
Anthony remained standing.
He had not moved much throughout the entire battle.
His katana remained by his side, bloodless and undisturbed.
His expression was unreadable, though his eyes held no emotion, no pity, no remorse.
Only utter indifference.
Aurelia raised her head, her gaze locking onto Anthony.
Her voice was rough, as though it pained her to speak.
"Are you even human"
Anthony's gaze was steady.
"You drew the short end when you decided to attack me, thinking I was an easy win"
"If you fought any other champion, I am sure you would have at least lasted longer or won"
Aurelia was, without a doubt, a prodigy, a genius whose brilliance was undeniable.
It was precisely this exceptional talent that had driven Elara, the Vampire Queen, to orchestrate a bloodbath, believing it would serve her cause.
Vampires thrived on such chaos, their power fed by the destruction and death.
But Elara had miscalculated.
Aurelia's unparalleled prowess had met its match in the form of the Anomaly.
With a final, exhausted breath, Aurelia gripped her spear, struggling to summon any strength left.
She could barely stand, her body weakening despite her regenerative ability.
The realization hit her hard, this was the end.
Anthony's katana was already in motion.
It sliced through the air with a fluid motion, effortlessly severing the last hope Aurelia had left.
Aurelia's form disintegrated, crumbling into ash and dust in the wake of the final blow.
Her spear, now abandoned, fell to the ground with a hollow thud.
The battlefield was silent, save for the sound of Anthony's breathing, steady, unaffected.
The surrounding environment, once an expanse of untamed beauty, was now a shattered ruin, marked by destruction from their battle.
Where once there had been life, now only ash and blood remained.
Anthony sheathed his katana.
The battle had been no more than an inconvenience, an obstacle quickly cleared.