Chapter 395: The death of a knight



The rooftop crackled with tension as Blake, eyes blazing with fury, dug his claws into his palms. Blood welled from the self-inflicted wounds, hovering in crimson globules around his clenched fists. Elena, backed against the edge, felt the last vestiges of fear melt away, replaced by the burning pride of her Shelly lineage.

With a defiant cry, Elena thrust her hands forward, conjuring twin orbs of searing flame. The fireballs hurtled towards Blake, illuminating the night with their intensity. But Blake didn't flinch. With a casual flick of his wrist, tendrils of his blood rose to meet the flames, engulfing them completely. The fire sizzled and died, leaving only wisps of steam.

Elena's gasp of shock cut through the night air. Reggie and Randal exchanged knowing glances from their position behind Blake. 'We knew her flames would be ineffective,' Randal thought, 'but this... this is beyond our expectations.'

'The dragon,' Reggie's mind raced. 'Its flames were far hotter, and even they couldn't do anything. This man he's not normal...'

Blake's blood began to coalesce, forming a massive, intricate shape above him. His voice, low and filled with barely contained rage, sent chills down their spines. "For two years, I've caged my demons, Elena. But this... this I've reserved specially for you."

The blood construct took form - a colossal, ornate scythe with a blade that seemed to drink in the very light around it. The handle was adorned with writhing, blood-red tendrils that pulsed with unholy energy. It dwarfed them all, its presence alone seeming to distort the air around it.

Elena's eyes widened, but she stood her ground, flames dancing at her fingertips. She was a Shelly, after all. She would not cower.

Blake's arm rose, poised to command his blood weapon. The air itself seemed to hold its breath. Blake's attack unleashed with terrifying force. The blood scythe surged forward.

Suddenly, a blur of movement appeared in front of Elena. Drake materialized before Elena, arms spread wide, his face a mask of determination.

The blood scythe sliced forward, its blade passing through Drake as if he were made of mist. What happened next defied description.

Drake's body didn't just slice - it disintegrated. His flesh bubbled and sloughed off, bones liquefying under the onslaught. He didn't even have time to scream as he was ground to nothing, the very essence of his being obliterated in seconds.

Reggie stared, slack-jawed. 'Impossible,' he thought, awe and terror warring in his mind. 'Blake's blood... it's never done that before.'

Even Blake seemed momentarily taken aback, his rage giving way to astonishment for a split second. Then understanding dawned in his eyes. 'The dragon blood,' he realized. 'The one I consumed in that cave... its power is still working, amplified beyond measure.'

A shadow on the rooftop rippled, coalescing into Gunther's form. His eyes widened as he took in the scene, the spot where Drake had stood now nothing more than a smoldering stain.

Elena's face was a portrait of shock, her usual composure shattered. The man who had stood by her side for centuries, gone in an instant. But there was no time for mourning.

Blake's moment of surprise passed, his focus snapping back to Elena with renewed intensity. The blood scythe reformed, its blade gleaming with an unholy light, hungry for more.

"Your lapdog's sacrifice was touching," Blake snarled, advancing slowly. "But ultimately futile. No one can save you from what's coming, Elena. No one."

'We're outmatched,' Reggie realized, his mind racing for a strategy. 'But we can't back down now. Not with everything at stake.'

Blake's blood constructs writhed around him, responding to his turbulent emotions. 'I've come too far,' he thought, clenching his fists. 'Faced too much. I won't let it end here.'

Duncan's voice, when he finally spoke, carried the weight of millennia. "Well, well," he said, his tone light yet somehow menacing. "Isn't this a delightful gathering? The prodigal son, the vengeful knight, and... ah, yes. The one who defied death itself."

His eyes locked onto Blake's, a spark of genuine interest gleaming within their depths. "You've caused quite a stir, young one,"

The night seemed to hold its breath as everyone waited for Blake's response. The fate of not just those present, but of Rose, hung in the balance.

Blake, standing tall despite the overwhelming odds, met Duncan's gaze unflinchingly. 'This ends tonight,' he thought, his resolve hardening. 'One way or another.'

The tension on the rooftop was palpable as Damien's eyes bore into Blake, years of pent-up rage evident in his burning gaze. His voice, when he spoke, was laced with venom.

"Blake," Damien snarled, "You're mine tonight. I'll make you pay for everything - every moment of agony, every sleepless night, every shred of dignity you stole from me." His eyes flicked briefly to the knights at Blake's side. "And don't think your little army can save you. They're nothing compared to what I've become."

A small smirk played at the corners of Blake's mouth, a stark contrast to the intensity in his eyes. He glanced casually to his side, as if noticing the knights for the first time. "Army?" he asked, his voice deceptively light. "What army?"

Blake's gaze swept over his companions, his next words dropping like bombs in the tense silence. "Gunther here is a priest. Randal works as a bouncer at a shit club. And Reggie..." He paused, his eyes locking onto Reggie's. "Well, Reggie's an expecting father."

Reggie's face went blank, shock evident in every line of his body. 'How... how could he possibly know?' his thoughts raced. 'Nana and I haven't told anyone. We haven't even discussed it properly because of Rose's situation.'

Blake winked at Reggie, noting the look of stunned disbelief. 'Poor Reggie,' he thought. 'If only he knew how much has changed.'

Turning back to face Damien, Blake's demeanor shifted. The casual air vanished, replaced by an intensity that seemed to make the very air around him vibrate. His voice, when he spoke, was low and filled with absolute certainty.

"I am the army."

The words hung in the air, heavy with implication. Damien's eyes widened slightly, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face before being swallowed by renewed anger.

'How dare he?' Damien's thoughts raged. 'After everything he's done, he still stands there so... so confident!'

Duncan, watching the exchange with detached interest, allowed a small smile to play across his lips. 'Fascinating,' he mused. 'This boy continues to surprise.'

Elena, still at Duncan's side, felt a flicker of doubt for the first time. 'What if...' she quickly squashed the thought. 'No. With Duncan here, nothing can stop us,'