MY SUGAR MUMMY IS A BEAUTIFUL VAMPIRE

Blake barely had time to breathe before Nemisis lunged.

The familiar's blade split the air, a blackened blur aimed to carve him in two. Blake twisted, his blood-enhanced speed saving him by inches. The ground where he had stood cracked and cratered as the sheer force of the attack detonated outward, sending a shockwave that rattled his bones.

'It's getting faster.'

Blake's instincts screamed, but he didn't hesitate. Blood flared from his fingertips, coalescing into jagged spikes that erupted in every direction. The attack was indiscriminate, filling the battlefield with a storm of crimson lances sharp enough to slice through steel.

Nemisis didn't dodge. It didn't need to.

Dark tendrils slithered from its body, intercepting each spike with unnatural precision. The blood shattered, reduced to harmless mist before it could touch the familiar's shifting form. Nemisis grinned.

"Pathetic," it sneered, its voice a chorus of mocking whispers. "You're throwing tantrums now?"

Blake didn't respond. He was already moving, closing the gap between them in a blink. His body blurred—faster, stronger, his muscles coiling with lethal intent. His blood-coated fist streaked toward Nemisis's head, a drill of pure carnage designed to bore through anything in its path.

It connected.

A thunderous crack echoed as the impact sent Nemisis skidding back, its shadowed form distorting. Blake's eyes burned with a vicious gleam. His blood attack had landed—had done damage.

But Nemisis was laughing.

The shadows around its body writhed, reshaping instantly. It straightened, rolling its neck as though shaking off an itch. Then it grinned, a wicked, jagged thing.

"My turn."

Blake reacted on instinct, but it wasn't enough.

Chains lashed from the darkness, striking with ruthless precision. They wove through the air like living serpents, each link snapping toward him with bone-crushing force. Blake spun, dodging the first, then the second—but the third wrapped around his ankle like a vice.

Before he could sever it, Nemisis yanked.

Blake was airborne for a fraction of a second before he was slammed into the ground. The impact sent a fissure racing across the battlefield, chunks of debris exploding skyward.

Nemisis didn't stop.

Another chain shot forward, latching onto Blake's wrist. Then another. Then another.

Blake struggled, but the shadows constricted, locking him in place like an insect caught in a web. Nemisis loomed over him, tilting its head in mock curiosity.

"Is this all a Lord of Blood can muster?" it purred. "How... underwhelming."

Blake's eyes gleamed murder. His blood surged, his veins pulsing as he forced his will into the liquid binding his body. The chains hissed as the blood hardened, jagged spikes forming along its surface.

With a snarl, Blake ripped himself free.

The chains shattered, dissolving into mist as Blake lunged forward. He didn't hesitate. He drove his fist into Nemisis's chest, feeling the satisfying crunch as his blood-drilled strike tore through its form.

But Nemisis didn't flinch.

Its smile widened, impossibly stretching across its face.

"Oh, that tickled."

Blake's gut twisted.

Before he could retreat, Nemisis moved.

Faster than thought, the familiar's clawed hand shot forward, driving into Blake's stomach. Agony exploded through his body.

Then Nemisis lifted him.

Blake's feet left the ground as the familiar dragged him upward, its grip tightening. Blood leaked from his lips as he struggled, but Nemisis merely laughed, watching him dangle like a broken doll.

"Did you really think you were winning?" Nemisis whispered, its breath cold against Blake's skin. "That I was actually trying?"

The shadows around them thickened. Tendrils sprouted from Nemisis's back, writhing like hungry beasts.

Then it struck.

A tendril pierced Blake's shoulder, spearing through flesh and bone.

Blake barely registered the pain before the second impaled his thigh. Then the third. Then the fourth.

The vampire's scream was raw, choked with fury and agony as the tendrils lifted him higher, stretching his body like a sacrifice before a dark god. Nemisis's laughter surrounded him, reverberating through the air.

"This is your limit?" Nemisis sighed, almost disappointed. "You're not even worth breaking yet."

Blake's vision swam. Blood loss, pain, rage—they all blurred together, but he refused to succumb. His power flared, blood igniting like molten steel across his wounds. The tendrils sizzled as his own essence burned through them, and with a roar, he ripped himself free.

He hit the ground hard, staggering. His body screamed in protest, but he didn't have the luxury of rest.

Nemisis was already moving.

Its shadowy form blurred forward, appearing behind him in an instant. Blake turned—too slow.

A fist caved into his ribs, sending him hurtling backward. Before he could recover, Nemisis was there again, intercepting him mid-air with a backhand that sent him spiraling in the opposite direction.

Blake barely had time to brace before he hit the ground.

The impact shattered the terrain, carving a deep trench as his body tore through rock and soil. His blood armor cracked, crimson shards scattering as he tumbled.

But Nemisis wasn't finished.

It descended like a nightmare, landing with an earth-rattling crash. Its foot came down hard, aiming to crush Blake's skull.

Blake rolled at the last second, narrowly dodging death. He pushed himself up, spitting blood. His vision was doubled, his limbs heavy.

But he wasn't done. Not yet.

And then Nemisis said the words that froze his blood.

"I've been holding back."

Nemisis flexed its fingers, shadows thickening around its form. The air itself trembled, warping under its sheer presence.

It stepped forward, its movements slow, deliberate.

And then it vanished.

Blake barely registered the movement before a fist collided with his chest.

A shockwave detonated outward, obliterating everything in a thirty-meter radius.

Blake was airborne again, his body twisting from the force.

This time, he didn't stop.

Nemisis wasn't just toying with him anymore.

It was breaking him.

And it was far from done.

And that was when Blake had to make a choice.
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Blake's feet hit the fractured ground in rapid succession, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His lungs burned, his body screaming at him to stop, to turn and fight. But for the first time in centuries, he felt something he had long forgotten.

Fear.

A genuine, bone-deep, paralyzing terror.

Behind him, Nemisis laughed.

It wasn't a simple chuckle, nor a deranged cackle, it was a monstrous, consuming sound that burrowed into Blake's very core. The laughter carried weight, crawling into his mind like a whisper from the abyss.

"Run, little vampire run!"

Blake clenched his teeth, ignoring the shudder that passed through his body. His priority wasn't himself. The coffin, Rose's coffin' drifted behind him, untouched despite the battlefield's devastation. Even through everything, he had kept it safe. His power instinctively shielded it, forming an invisible barrier that had defied the chaos.

But how much longer could he protect it?

Nemisis was coming.