Ben felt like he had been fighting for hours. But, for all he knew, it might have been only 20 minutes. Mana flowed as he ceaselessly expended it, into spell after spell as he fought against numerous enemies; all attempting to take his life for reasons he was still unaware of. Glancing at his mana, he was aware he wouldn’t be able to continue this fight for much longer. He had killed many of those attacking him, but for every opponent that fell, two would take their place in this frenzied battle. He could feel the poison and curses from the wounds begin to affect him, making his mind hazy and disoriented. Ben chose to decrease his blood flow even further, making the spread of poison slower, but with all the wounds littered across his body, it did not seem to matter.

Having access to blood magic was both a boon and a bane. It had quickly come to have a stigma against it because of many capabilities and uses, many nefarious in nature. Despite humans being a part of the Myriad of Worlds for a short twenty-seven years, some had used blood rituals in a bid to advance in strength in a brief time without making the effort of fighting monsters. Animals, innocents, and virgins had all been sacrificed, which did not help either. It had already caused irreparable harm to the reputation of blood magic users like him. Although Ben was considered a hero, a savior of many, one of the strongest humans to have advanced so far, there remained rumors about him and his rise to power due to his blood magic.

The roaring sounds of magic knocked Ben out of his stupor. His brief reprieve was over, as dozens of fireballs and other spells soared towards his position on the ground. They had been bombarding his location, pushing him throughout the city after they discovered getting near him was a fatal mistake. The once bastion of civilization and strength was now awash with rubble and fires. His house was gone entirely, one of the first buildings to be destroyed in this battle for survival, as they tried to kill him in a desperate sneak attack. The sounds of cries and screams could be heard echoing through the field of debris, bystanders, caught as collateral in the ensuing battle. It caused despair in his heart to hear their cries of terror, but his mind was set on vengeance and survival.

He called upon his wings of blood to catapult himself into the sky. The fireballs and spells came crashing down where he had just stood, throwing rock and debris everywhere, causing even more damage to the nearby buildings. Even over one hundred feet in the air, he could feel the intensity and burning. He understood that if he had not dodged, he would likely be dead now.

Pulling what little blood he could spare from his wings without making them too small to support his flight, he commanded it into the shape of a spear. The wings were now too small to propel him fast enough to escape, not that he would be able to. He was effectively surrounded and dying. Without a healer or the grace of the gods, he would not survive for long. Feeling blood that was not in his control approach, he focused his sense but heard and saw nothing. Whoever the person was, they stayed behind him as he gazed around, silently getting closer. Without moving his arm, the spear in his hand launched backward into the stomach of the assassin. Inside the assassin’s body, the spear expanded into dozens of spikes, impaling organs, bones, and even the assailant’s heart. The spikes of blood exploded out of the body like a misshapen tree.

You have slain [Human – Adept Level 23]

Ben’s eyes widened in recognition. He had not recognized the blood signature but that meant little since assassins specialized in stealth and camouflaging their abilities and presence.

Peter... They really have turned everyone against me. Peter had been like an uncle to him. Someone who had been friends with his parents and him. Ben’s heart tightened with the pain of having been betrayed by another to whom he was close.

Hardening his resolve, Ben narrowed his eyes as he looked around. The assassin remained skewered on the blood spear hovering in the air. His body was rigid as the tree of blood kept him steady. Ben called to the blood of the newly dead to gather into his spear. It only took a few seconds for the body to be sucked dry into a husk of itself. Commanding the now larger blood spear to fly back towards him, he willed the blood to separate as it began to flow around him in circles like a river of dark red liquid.

Tired of this game of cat and mouse, he sensed about a hundred people moving towards him. Ben prepared what was possibly his final spell. He knew this was a do-or-die moment. He recognized many of the blood signatures approaching him, but ten among them stood out. Those ten being the same magical tier of Profound like himself. They were forerunners of humanity, some of their strongest warriors. Thank the gods there isn’t anyone stronger here. Although extremely rare, a few people had already passed the fourth realm of power that Ben was currently in.

Floating in the air Ben activated [Blood Tempest] with nearly all his remaining mana. The blood streaming around him split apart into thousands of blood droplets all separated from each other. Pushing with his will, he directed the blood forward at its maximum velocity towards the oncoming enemies. There was no controlling where each droplet of blood would go; he could only aim in a general direction as the spell was more like a shotgun spreading outwards than a rifle. Shields and barriers appeared to stop the oncoming tide of blood.

Ben watched the wall of red reach the enemy as it pierced into them. A symphony of sounds began all at once. The crashing and exploding of rocks, the sound of breaking glass, screams of agony and pain as thousands of tiny holes punctured through their defenses. Bodies began dropping from the sky. Buildings pierced by the blood began to crumble apart. Not all shields and barriers were penetrated, some still stood relatively unharmed due to the nature of the spell spreading out the damage instead of focusing it. Ben frowned, usually he would empower the spell with his lifeforce, but he barely had any left. There had been no opportunity to replenish his vitality from the bodies as long-range bombardments were constantly harassing him, denying him the necessary time. An obvious flaw in his class making itself apparent during the most crucial of times.

Ben could sense the notifications in his mind. He quickly checked the slain notification to see if he had gotten anyone of note. To his surprise, he had only had notifications for about half of the people he had seen coming. Rueful, Ben knew that the other profound stage fighters had helped some survive with their magic. Despite having killed many foes, Ben was losing this battle of attrition as his resources kept being used.

‘Blood Champion has reached Profound Level 82’

He threw five attributes into intelligence, not that it would help. He had advanced one level with those he had just killed, but it still wouldn’t be enough. Seeing the flow of time change, he knew Lucian was near. He narrowed his eyes and formed a sword of blood with his remaining mana. Sensing Lucian appear behind him Ben turned as fast as he was capable of, whipping his blood sword in a horizontal slash only for it to be blocked by one of Lucian’s blades already in position. Having lost his positional advantage, Ben knew he was in a bad situation. He was not a close combat specialist comparable to Lucian who excelled in such combat.

“Lucian, please,” Ben pleaded. They remained frozen for a moment, looking into each other’s faces, swords still pushed against the other.

Lucian’s eyes hardened.

Still parrying, Lucian’s other arm moved quickly, thrusting his second sword forwards toward Ben. He tried to block it with the only thing available, his hand. The blade pierced straight through and into his torso, puncturing the left lung. The sword wrenched out of his body. Ben would have screamed if he could actually take a proper breath.

All he could feel was burning in every shallow breath he took. His lungs worked faster as they tried to compensate for the lack of air. Blood began leaking out of his chest and into his lung. Darkness entered his vision for a moment as he blinked it away. He felt like a corpse floating in the air, his crimson blood wings kept him aloft. The combination of poison, curses, and wounds had done their job as he teetered on the edge of death.

Unforgivable. Unforgivable! With a sudden spike of energy, Ben roared in his mind. I’ll take you with me, you bastard! Using what little lifeforce remained, he empowered his next spell pulling the blood spilling from his chest and forming it into a lance half-hidden inside his body. Launching it at Lucian the spell never struck. Somehow, Lucian reacted and slowed down the lance just enough to dodge out of its way. At the same moment, the lance was dodged, with the last of his energy Ben slashed his blood sword down in a vertical swing at Lucian’s dodging form guessing where he would move. He felt resistance for a moment as it connected with a piece of Lucian’s shoulder armor. The last thing he saw was Lucian’s pained expression as his eyes and mind went dark.

Ben awoke leaning against a wall, trying to catch his breath but was only able to pull in a little air at a time. It didn’t take a genius to guess that his lungs were barely functioning. One of them had stopped working entirely, the other was corroded by poison ready to stop at any moment. Perhaps it was the lack of air in his lungs, or perhaps it was the lack of blood because of all the wounds on his body, but he was beginning to feel tired and cold. Keeping his eyes open was becoming increasingly difficult with every passing second. An unnatural cold settled through his body. How strange it was considering it was the middle of the warm season.

Forcing his eyes open wide, he could see nothing but a hellscape that one would imagine when thinking of the end of times. Fire, debris, and bodies littered the once-great city of New Hope, the Capital of the Human Forward Alliance. New Hope had been the city in which he had grown up for his entire life. Granted the city had only been about one year older than him. Created soon after some of humanity had come to this myriad of worlds. Straining his neck to look around, he knew there was very little that could be done to recover this city. The fight had destroyed most of the walls and buildings. Unfortunately, he was guilty of contributing to the destruction of the city and its populace.

Ben closed his eyes and began meditating and focusing on his recovery. However, he instinctively knew, that his body had been severely damaged. There was no chance that his recovery and constitution could pull him through long enough to survive these wounds. His lifeforce had been much like a roaring campfire before, now it was like coals that had been splashed by a bucket of water, slowly growing colder as the heat escaped. The cost of using his lifeforce so often during the battle had been too damaging as Ben had been pushed past the point where he could no longer recover his vitality on his own. Not even a healer could save him now.

Despite the warm breeze from the wind blowing past the fires scattered across the city, his body continued to feel colder as it responded less and less. A nice nap is what I need right about now, he thought to himself as his world become darker as his eyes began to slide closed.

Ben could feel something nudging his shoe. “He is still alive. I didn’t receive the notification. I bet he is close to death with all those wounds,” a mysterious voice he recognized instantly spoke from the darkness.

Ben opened his right eye since his left eye was no longer cooperating and refused to budge. Regret and anger were all that he felt as he stared at what used to be his best friend, Lucian.

The bright glowing green eyes of his once friend gazed back into his with no discernable emotion behind them. Perhaps feeling guilt for what he had done to him, Lucian was the first to break eye contact.

Glancing at Lucian’s body, he was relatively unscathed except for the obvious missing left arm cut at the shoulder; the wound already healed enough for the blood to stop, likely from someone nearby. A dull silver sword speckled with blood sat in his other hand aimed towards the ground. If Ben could manage the energy to smile, he would, feeling quite pleased with himself for at least taking something from the bastard despite the unlikely odds. Unfortunately, Lucian’s youthful, sculpted-looking face and coal-black hair remained whole and untouched.

“Need a hand?” Ben sputtered out between breaths, feeling some energy coming back to him, even if it was only to fuck with Lucian before he died.

All he received was a glare in response, the sword in his only hand vanishing into thin air. After a moment Lucian spoke. “It’s just like you to make light of all this.”

“Easier to make light of it, than to accept that my best friend betrayed me and schemed to kill me. Did our entire friendship mean nothing? Are all those times I saved you forgotten?” Ben attempted to scream. The amount of air in his lungs was barely enough for life, certainly not sufficient for screaming.

“It’s really nothing personal Ben,” Lucian said with a shoulder shrug, his face a mask of controlled emotions. “I’m only doing what is necessary to save us.”

“Necessary? Why did my parents have to die? How is that necessary?” Ben whispered, his voice low and hoarse. The taste of blood was thick in his mouth.

Lucian froze for a split second as if a lightning bolt had struck him. “I did initially want to avoid collateral damage, but I knew your guard would be down if you were with your parents. You really didn’t make this easy. Even now, broken and bleeding all over, wounds littered across your body, you cling to life with tenacity even I find frightening. I was hoping a surprise attack would kill you, but I guess you didn’t become one of the strongest human fighters for nothing,” Lucian monologued all while staring back into Ben’s eyes. His voice was cold, face a mask of absolute indifference.

“I feel as if I should even applaud you for all the people you were able to kill despite being on the backfoot the entire battle. All my preparations were nearly for naught,” Lucian explained. Turning his head slowly from left to right as he glanced around at what could only be the many people who had died during the battle.

“Unfortunately, many of the people you killed were all skilled with potential. People capable of one day bridging the gap in strength between humans and the other species out there,” Lucian continued with a sigh.

“I... I killed?” Ben sputter. Growling and giving his best one eye glare he said, “We both know it was you and your army who killed these people and destroyed their city.”

Lucian gave him a sideways glance, unconcerned. “I was thinking something simple like 'hero betrays the Human Forward Alliance. Destroys the city of New Hope and its people.'” Lucian brought one hand to his chin contemplating the false title. “Could use some work I guess, but the short of it is, that you will be blamed for the death of this city and its people. I believe the phrase goes, 'it is the winner who narrates history.'”

“You really like hearing yourself talk, huh?”

“Lucian, you had your talk. End him now. Let’s be done with this, before he recovers,” a familiar voice came from above. Glancing up, Ben could see multiple silhouettes of people once well known to him. Now he wasn’t certain he had ever known them, for their betrayal spoke volumes of his knowledge of them. These were people he had trusted, fought with, and even saved. But they had all taken Lucian’s side during the battle, perhaps even before, since this all seemed to be planned.

“Fine, fine. Goodbye old friend,” Lucian muttered softly.

Raising his hand, Lucian’s sword trembled lightly. A single tear fell as he pulled his arm back and stabbed forth. There was no pain as the sword pierced his heart. Knowing it would be a matter of seconds, Ben’s eyes began to close. The last thing he saw was the many beautiful and colorful worlds above him. I never got to see them… He felt a tug at his soul as eternal darkness descended upon his mind. Unable to resist the pull, he let go.