Isolde knew from the way her dreams always crumbled so easily under Roanna's presence that her power had something to do with an anti-psyche blood style.

But what kind of blood style could do that?

Moreover, Roanna could use almost any blood style she pleased and flaunt them like a queen showing off her collection.

The experiment she conducted to create the Crow had given the final answer. It was impossible for any vampire to have more than two blood styles, not even a hybrid.

The Corvane needed to perform experiments to forge the so-called "perfect vampire," one who could permanently wield several styles at once.

But Roanna only laughed. "Realm? Do you have proof that this is my realm? Or is it the children I experimented on, who now form this perfect illusion?"

Isolde smirked. She could see the faint tremor in Roanna's hand. That slight hesitation betrayed her nerves.

"Did you know," Isolde said softly, "that a fighting style mirrors its wielder's personality, Roanna?"

"I'm not interested in playing your games."

Isolde chuckled. "What's wrong? Has the Corvane line finally lost its sense of humor? You used to surprise us all the time."

She tilted her head slightly, eyes narrowing. "Where is that surprise now? Gone the same way your House crumbled?"

Roanna snarled, her composure cracking. "You think I'm the one losing? You're the one who lost Velstarth. I already have the Crimson Nectar in my hand!"

"Oh no, I'm terrified," Isolde said with exaggerated shock before her tone hardened.

"Anyway, let's return to the real topic, shall we? This realm you created… it allows you to shape the energy you've stolen into whatever blood style you desire."

"You are wrong."

Roanna's eyes narrowed, and in her hand formed a long sword of bone, its surface cloaked in infernal flame, ready to strike.

"Roanna, you're a confident fighter," Isolde continued, her voice steady and measured.

"You don't hide anything in battle. You're arrogant, cruel, and proud of your strength. And somehow, you always manage to conceal the most important piece until you make a mistake."

Roanna scoffed, "Mistake? I never have one in my life."

"But you hide your house in this cheap illusion and sacrifice thousands of children, lots of time to just hide. How in the world is our 'Queen that will never be', hiding herself?"

Her shadow moved with her words, unfurling like a tide of living tentacles that lashed out across the floor.

Roanna moved swiftly, her blade slicing through them, turning them to ash. "I don't know what you're talking about."

She darted forward, her body bursting into streaks of lightning as she vanished and reappeared right before Isolde, slashing downward to end it all.

But the one in front of her was another nightmare, nothing more than an illusion that vanished with the strike.

Isolde appeared behind her as calmly as ever. "What a shame. I'm at my fourth evolution now, it's getting harder for you to absorb my dreams, isn't it?"

Her tone carried quiet disappointment. "I'll miss the arrogant you."

"Then fight me with all your might and stop playing around with me! I don't have time to entertain your bullshit, Isolde!"

Roanna's voice broke through the air, sharp with fury. The mocking grace she once carried was gone, stripped bare and replaced by raw anger.

She was no longer calm, no longer composed. The arrogance that once dripped from her every word had turned into desperation.

Isolde tilted her head slightly, her smile faint. "You're right," she said. "This is getting boring. Let's end it once and for all."

The temperature shifted, the air thickening until even the walls of the manor began to tremble.

Isolde spread her arms slowly, and from the darkness under her feet, countless shadowed forms began to emerge.

They crawled out of the cracks in the marble like living nightmares, some with too many limbs, some with none at all. But none of them lunged toward Roanna.

Instead, they turned on the manor itself. Attacking it.

The ground convulsed as if alive, the once-silent floor splitting apart with child-like cries.

Faces began to form within the walls: eyes opening wide, weeping blood that poured down like crimson rain.

Mouths appeared where there had been none, opening wide in silent screams before the sound finally broke through, raw and agonized.

The manor's very foundation began to weep and scream, a chorus of suffering children echoing through every hall.

"You! Stop it all!"

Roanna's eyes widened as she felt the energy twisting violently. The walls bent inward as if the whole manor was alive and collapsing under the weight of its own horror.

The nightmare creatures continued their assault, tearing through the structure, devouring the illusions, feeding on every inch of fabricated reality that Roanna had built to hide her power.

"What have you done, you lunatic?!" Roanna shouted, her voice breaking as she threw her hand forward.

The bone blade in her grasp burned white-hot, and waves of molten fire burst from her arm, crashing against the swarm of nightmares.

They shrieked and melted, only for more to rise from the puddles of gore that pooled around her feet.

"You think destroying this place will stop me?!" she screamed, her wings splitting open into jagged bones that tore through her back.

Spears of hardened marrow burst from her arms and shoulders, and she hurled them with terrifying speed.

"You think you can make me panic?! I built this place!"

Isolde's laughter cut through the chaos. "Built it? You mean you stole it from the minds of the children you slaughtered? Don't flatter yourself, Roanna."

The manor wailed louder. The floor beneath Roanna cracked again, and from it poured rivers of red tears that reflected her twisted face.

She leapt into the air, summoning blades of wind and fire, lashing out at everything that moved.

But the nightmares didn't stop as they kept coming from Isolde. Attacking everything as the children cry blending into words, faint whispers of pleading, of suffering, of names she had long forgotten.

"Shut up!" Roanna screamed, spinning wildly as her blades tore through the air. "Shut up! Shut up!"

Isolde stood at the center of the chaos, untouched, watching her opponent unravel.

"What's wrong, Roanna? Can't stand to hear them cry?" she asked, voice calm yet sharp as a knife.

"They were loyal to you once, weren't they? All those children who called you 'Mother.'"

Roanna froze, her attacks faltering for a brief second. Her body trembled as the manor screamed again, louder this time, almost sentient with rage.

Isolde's shadow stretched further. "You've fed on their pain for too long," she said softly.

"Now they're simply taking it back."

"BULLSHIT! They are just empty souls without consciousness!"

Roanna's fury boiled over. With a roar that cracked through the shrieking of the manor, she lunged toward Isolde, her body shifting midair.

Bones slid and reshaped beneath her skin, merging with flame as her arms turned into jagged blades that burned with crimson fire.

But before she could even reach Isolde, something caught her ankle. Then another.

Hands—small, pale, and endless—burst from the ground, gripping her legs with desperate strength.

Others emerged from the walls and ceiling, their fingers clawing at her flesh, dragging her downward.

Each touch was ice-cold, each grip trembling with rage.

"Let go of me, you pathetic scraps!" Roanna hissed, kicking them away.

Her voice cracked as her power surged, searing through the grasping hands.

"You were failed experiments! Useless, disposable things! I gave you a purpose!"

Her words only made them angrier. The walls groaned and bled as the manor came alive again, eyes opening in every surface, all watching her.

The hands she burned turned to ash, but more replaced them like tendrils that lashed around her.

They pulled her deeper into the floor. Her boots sank into the blood-soaked marble, her knees bending as the surface turned liquid and tried to swallow her whole.

"Mother… Come to us. Mother…"

She swung her bone sword wildly, cutting through the grasping limbs, but for every one she destroyed, two more sprouted in its place.

Isolde stood still among the chaos, the shadows curling around her like serpents. She tilted her head and smiled faintly, her voice cutting through the sound of Roanna's panic.

"How poetic. The mother devoured by her own children. You called them monsters, but it seems they finally learned from you."

"Shut your mouth!" Roanna screamed, her teeth bared as lightning burst from her fingertips.

The room exploded with raw energy, scorching everything around her. The air smelled of burning flesh and iron, but the hands didn't stop.

They reformed from smoke and blood, twisting together into grotesque shapes that climbed her body like vines.

But the problem was that the more she attacked this realm, the more her power to form another blood style weakened and became even useless.

It was like a double-edged sword.

Though, Roanna was too drowned in anger to even realize it.

The faces of the children began to take form within the wall once more. Their mouths opened in unison, screaming her name with the sound of hatred and sorrow.

"Hurt… Pain… Mother, why?"

Roanna's laughter broke through the noise, wild and hysterical. "You think you can kill me? I made you! You wouldn't exist without me!" she shouted, slashing at the air.

Isolde watched with calm detachment, her expression unreadable. "Even rats will learn how to crawl out of someone's body when they are in crisis, Roanna."

"So did the children. They just want justice."

Just as Roanna's scream reached its peak, the entire realm shuddered. The air tore apart with a deafening crack, as if someone had split the illusion from the outside.

The children's cries stopped at once, leaving a suffocating silence.

Isolde's smile faded. She turned her head toward the disturbance. The walls of the manor began to crumble, and from beyond the fractured veil of reality, a light began to bleed through.

Someone had entered

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