Chapter 95: Then you bore me
It was a bloodbath. Literally.
Athenodora no longer cast a defensive spell. She didn’t need one. She never did. Instead, both her hands held spell circles, and out of those spell circles spread multiple tendrils all tipped with Blood Scythes which she controlled deftly and accurately to spin about, slicing at as many of Anton Orlock’s Vampire Spawns as she could.
At some point, she stopped controlling the blood that spilled from her kills. It became too much, and she had enough Blood scythes already, so she just let it pool on the ground, increasing inch by inch with every couple of bodies she dropped.
And, even as she slaughtered so many, by God, Athenodora was beautiful.
Not even the Vampires she slaughtered could deny that.
She seemed to dance across the puddle of blood she had created on the ground. Her feet never sank into it and not a single drop clung to any part of her body. It was like watching someone walk on water, if the water were blood.
She twisted, she gyrated, she undulated to a music that it seemed only she could hear, and whenever her arms moved, heads rolled and blood spilled to add to the ever-increasing supply on the ground.
The Vampires had been ordered to fight, so they did. They had no actual sense of self-preservation because if they did, they would have turned tail and run. To be fair though, they wouldn’t have actually gotten away. Athenodora was serious about the Sealing formation she had erected around the Black Castle and would have enough time to hunt down any deserter.
Athenodora never looked tired. The more blood she spilled, the more screams of pain she heard, the happier she looked. The brighter her Vampire red eyes became.
At some point, she threw up her legs like a ballet dancer but beyond being an eye-catching dance move, it kicked up the blood on the ground, turning it into spikes that stabbed at the Vampires hat had just managed to shield themselves from her Scythes. The blood sank into their bodies and exploded them into gory bits.
Already horrified eyes became even more horrified in realization that the entire ground was her weapon now.
That was the true might of a Blood Mage. She would only get significantly more powerful the more enemies she killed and the more blood she spilled.