You have to kill them.

I suck in a deep breath. Why did it end up like this?

The giant chamber is probably where all the sewage from the drains once came to converge. It’s since long been abandoned like the rest of the hideout and there isn’t a trace of water or filth to be seen. Rather, it’s been revamped into some sort of amphitheatre – or even an arena.

A few figures – vampire or human, I can’t tell – are already seated around the ring, talking amongst themselves. This must be where members come to spar or practice.

“Are you sure I have to do this?” I ask over my shoulder to where Ian is.

The Blood Lord smirks. “I could turn the entire clan against you with a single command. I don’t think you’re in any place to be asking questions, boy.”

Alice stands uncertainly beside her father, my winter jacket in her arms.

“I’ve called one of my most recent… disappointments to be your opponent,” he continues. “They’ve failed their duties time and time again. If they defeat you they’ll get another chance, otherwise they will pay for their failure... with their life.”

“What kind of leader are you?” I spit.

“One who gets rid of the weakest links.”

And one who lives in fear of those who might surpass him, I think.

He turns back and goes to take a seat near the front. Alice follows him but stays leaning against the wall, refusing to sit anywhere near her father.

I turn back to the other end of the arena. The battlefield is about fifty metres in diameter, so there’s plenty of room to manoeuvre. The rules are simple – whoever emerges alive will be allowed to stay alive. Anything is allowed – it’s a case of survival of the fittest.

I still can’t quite wrap my head around this. My opponent hasn’t done anything wrong to me – and I’m expected to kill them. The more I get to know Alice’s father, the more sadistic and disgusting I find him. How could someone like him have given birth to a person like Alice?

The old floodgates on the other side of the chamber open, but no water comes out. Instead, a small figure steps into the dimly lit chamber.

It’s a girl – and she looks like she could pass for a grade schooler.

There’s no way I can do this.

“Are you serious?” I scream towards Ian. “You want me to kill her?”

“Her mishaps very nearly cost us our safety and security,” he shot back. “We have no use for burdens like her who can’t pull their own weight.”

The girl looks solemnly in my direction. I can’t tell what she’s feeling from the expression on her face. Her fringe droops low to her brows and she looks like she hasn’t combed her hair for a month.

“Alice,” I try again. “Do something!”

She silently looks away. I think the only reason she’s here is because her father forced her to be.

I look around the arena, trying to think of another way. Maybe I could force my way out –

No. Even with my newfound power, there’s no way I can take on an army of vampires.

Could I kill the Blood Lord?

Ian catches my eye as if he knows what I’m thinking. A chill runs up my spine.

Don’t engage unless there’s a ninety percent chance of survival.

He’s the leader of a clan of vampires. There’s no telling what could happen if I fight him.

“Come on! You haven’t got all day, and neither have I!” he roars.

The girl remains still on her side of the ring. I could kill her so easily - just one quick swing with Nightfall and she’d be dead. She’s a demon, right? No different to those imps I slaughtered, or that feral vampire…

But why can’t I bring myself to fight? I know the old me would have attacked without hesitation, but with Alice’s transfusion I can’t help but see her in a human light…

“Guess I’ll have to give her a little push,” I hear Ian’s voice. “Kill him.”

Those two words send a spark up my spine, and the girl’s too from what I can see. It’s as if her body has been hijacked – she raises her head, and her red eyes flare for a brief moment. Then, she reaches out and a giant cleaver appears in her hand – a Divine Edge.

I’m put off guard by this sudden display. Until now, I’d mostly fought petty C and D ranked demons – those which lacked the cognition to manifest their soul as a physical object. The only times I’d ever fought other Divine Edge wielders were while sparring with ANGEL colleagues or the odd B rank demon.

“I’m sorry,” the girl mumbles. “It’s either you or me.”

She can no longer resist the command. Closing the distance between us with speed that only a demon could possess, she swings the cleaver towards me. I follow the blade easily as it travels through the air, and move back to avoid it. It would have been a close call back in my human form, but as a vampire my reflexes and speed have increased drastically.

This must have been what it felt like from Alice’s perspective when I’d attacked her.

A person’s Divine Edge is a reflection of their inner self. The first thing ANGEL taught me when they first picked me off the streets was that one could tell a lot by looking at someone’s Edge. Just by the markings left in the solid ground, I can tell that the vampire girl’s Divine Edge carries a heavy weight.

A massive weapon, too big and too heavy for such a young life. Heavy like the expectations of her, her responsibilities, and the burden she is.

The girl resolutely raises the cleaver again and swings. Her agility is greatly reduced, but she makes up for it in power. If I get hit by that thing, I’m going to be seriously injured no matter how strong I am.

Yet, I still can’t bring myself to draw my weapon against her.

“What an amusing find,” I hear Ian murmur to Alice. “Your friend still refuses to pick up his arms.”

“He’s not my friend. He’s just someone I took pity on.”

I don’t have time to be annoyed at her words simply because of the task of dodging each of the girl’s swings. Her fragile appearance is insanely misleading – each time the blade hits the ground, I feel its tremors against my feet. There’s no doubt that she possesses a handy amount of strength.

More swings, swipes and thrusts come towards me. I can feel them slowing down as she becomes more and more fatigued. She can’t last long in her current condition – I’m still hanging onto the hope that her simply passing out will hand me the victory.

“What are you doing?” she asks me. “Don’t you want to live? Fight back!”

She’s straining to breathe now. I remain silent, keeping my distance from her. Ian yells out from the sidelines.

“Come on, boy! You heard her, she wants you to fight!”

“Shut up!” I yell back. As soon as I look away, something comes swinging towards me.

I messed up.

Clang!

It only took a fraction of a second to summon Nightfall, and another fraction for me to block the blow. However, I’m forced to support the slender blade with both hands in order to keep it from being torn from my grip. The flat edge of the sword digs into my left hand and the hilt digs into my right as I go flying backwards, slamming into the low wall.

That cleaver is not to be underestimated.

I gingerly peel myself from the hard surface, creeping to my feet. The girl is panting, still glaring at me from the centre of the arena.

“So you were finally forced to draw it, eh?” mused the vampire lord. “A katana too… I thought you would have a much cruder blade…”

“Bran. Don’t make her die feeling worthless.”

I flinch at that voice. Instinctively I know that Alice is behind me, looking down at me from the other side of the barricade.

“Her uselessness has been foregrounded by my father for long enough. How would she feel if she were dispatched by an opponent who didn’t even need to draw his weapon?”

Her whisper is meant for me, and me alone.

The world is cruel. I have to accept that there’s no way I can save her.

The girl slowly brings up the cleaver. I can feel the pressure in the air lowering. My eardrums pop as power gathers around the center of the stage.

She’s about to Soul Link.

The cleaver’s aura grows and surrounds her. The fatigue on her face is almost painful to look at – she’s channeling all her strength into this blow. She raises it high above her head, trembling from the burst of power.

This is it – her strongest attack. A Soul Link; a perfect synchronization between one’s soul and body, only possible through countless amounts of practice. If a mere underling is capable of this, I’m scared of what the Blood Lord will be able to do.

It would be shameful not to face this head on. I will make her passing quick and painless… and meaningful.

I sneak a glance out of the corner of my eye. Ian is watching with interest.

Then, the girl brings the roiling cleaver down, demolishing the ground beneath her with a great shockwave.

My grip on Nightfall tightens as I lower my knees, one leg behind the other.

Lend me your strength...!

The ripple of dust and gale spreads outwards, cleaving the air. The wind is like a giant hammer, slamming down onto the earth towards my direction. I feel Nightfall’s strength coursing around my body – the will of my soul – and push off the ground.

The chamber blurs into one colour as I break through the attack, like a swallow cutting through the air. I slash once, surely and truly in the middle of my flight, and come to a halt at the other side of the arena. A few seconds pass, and the girl’s cleaver evaporates into the air.

But not because she dismissed its presence – because she’s dead.

The wind stops buffeting the area. The few people who happened to be in the chamber are watching with awe. The girl lies motionless on the broken ground, a slice of her chest removed from the rest of her body in a bloody heap. However, there is a small smile on her face.

I turn defiantly towards Ian and my stare reaches him from all the way across the arena, sharper than my blade. I only linked with my soul for a split second, but it was enough.

I gave her death meaning. I showed the Blood Lord that I am not to be taken lightly… and that I am a threat to his reign.