I Will Kill The Author

As the arena was engulfed by the tenebrous crimson mist, crippling fear rippled through the bystanders.

Damian Bright and Liz Snyder, along with most of the instructors who jumped down from the VIP stand, were now ensnared within the moving blood cloud.

Even those unfamiliar with the morbid spell hesitated to approach the spreading crimson mist.

It was almost as if everyone intuitively knew that the danger it posed was far beyond their mundane imagination.

The mist, as everyone suspected, held a perilous touch. Even Liz's spell-nullifying dome struggled to fully contain it and soon broke.

As soon as that happened, the blood cloud began to expand through the arena again, threatening to devour everything.

Cadets staggered backward, instructors shared the same unease, and the air was punctuated with a litany of startled, fearful screams.

Taking advantage of the intended confusion, the vampires stopped fighting and lunged forward.

Their ghastly figures disappeared into the tenebrous crimson mist, leaving everyone else puzzled by their strange behavior.

Amid the escalating terror and confusion, an authoritative voice cut through, causing everyone to turn their heads toward its source.

"Get back!" Yelena's command shook everyone out of their petrified state.

The young elven woman donned silver metal armor adorned with small intricate glowing blue patterns, a striking contrast to her bright red eyes radiating unyielding determination.

She resembled a noble queen who descended from her royal castle to rescue her people from worldly turmoil.

Yelena took a step forward and the Longsword in her hand disappeared into a cascade of ethereal white sparks.

She then heroically raised her arms, palms open, aimed at the growing crimson mist.

A biting cold wind arose, and a colossal ice barrier soon manifested. It encased the growing blood cloud and entrapped it within.

In a heartbeat, an immense ice mountain materialized at the arena's heart, plunging the ambient temperature to bone-chilling degrees.

Yelena was inherently a swordswoman. It means that she was typically not inclined to cast spells of this magnitude under any normal circumstances.

However, the current circumstances were far from normal. Despite her modest mana reserves, she had used up most of it on an ice prison spell to contain the growing crimson mist.

Although some people present in the arena felt a sense of relief wash over them as the crimson mist of blood was encapsulated, not everyone shared in the sentiment.

"What in the world are you doing?!" A sharp voice reverberated through the surroundings. It was Ella.

Ella's gaze nervously shifted from the colossal ice mountain of a dome that Yelena had created back to her, and her voice rose again in urgency.

"My father is in there!" Ella exclaimed. "Do you even know who he is?!"

Echoing Ella's sentiment, Nero's voice joined the chorus, tinged with frustration. "My master is trapped inside as well! Release your spell this instance!"

Several other cadets, their loved ones or instructors ensnared by the dark crimson mist, also voiced their objections, their voices carrying a blend of concern and anger.

–"Yes, there are people in there! Don't you know?!"

–"With all the vampires in there all well, you have trapped everyone in a cage!"

–"What the hell?! My brother is in there!"

Only the instructors who stayed outside and did not manage to get caught by the crimson mist remained silent. They were too busy activating the academy's defense systems through the academy AI, Athena.

After all, since they were the adults here, resolving this situation was on them now.

Amid the chorus of complaints, Yelena clenched her teeth and yelled, "Yes, I understand there are people inside and they are trapped there with vampires! But for now, they're on their own! We'll follow the proper procedure and—"

Before the young elven woman could finish her reasoning, a lattice of cracks appeared on the surface of the icy dome she had summoned to imprison the crimson mist.

Her face turned pale in an instant, and a curse involuntarily escaped her lips. "F-Fuck."

Everyone furrowed their brows in collective confusion. They followed Yelena's gaze and turned their eyes to look at her ice dome only to match her reaction moments later and blurt out curses.

However, before any action could be taken, in the next moment, the cracks widened and the ice dome exploded into an array of snowflakes, allowing a surge of blood mist to burst forth like a crimson flood and swallow the whole arena.

Observing the crimson deluge consume his comrades, Lucas, standing at the edge of the concrete field, took a deep breath.

He noticed some individuals attempting to flee the arena, but most of them proved to be too slow to escape.

Well, a few of them did manage to escape, but Lucas knew that they would instantly face death upon reaching the arena gates.

Not every vampire had jumped into the crimson mist. A portion chose to remain outside, guarding potential escape routes. Unfortunately, two of those bloodsuckers were high-vampires.

These poor souls stood no chance of facing them and escaping.

A pang of guilt gnawed at Lucas' heart as he just stood there, not even bothering to prevent their impending death.

Nevertheless, he knew that they weren't his primary concern.

In contrast to those around him, Lucas displayed no hint of hesitation, fear, or terror.

He appeared almost... serene? His mind was calm and his eyes were indifferent.

Well, why wouldn't he be calm? He had, after all, spent weeks preparing for this exact moment.

At one point, he believed that passivity and reactive problem-solving would guarantee his survival.

If he could just react to the situation and survive, that would be enough.

However, just a few months after arriving in this accursed world, Lucas realized that being reactive equated to a death sentence here and survival was never enough.

After all, that mentality nearly cost him his life against the Vampire King, Reina.

He hadn't anticipated such a plethora of variables arising.

He hadn't concealed his identity, thinking it was unnecessary. And because of that, he ended up taking the life of a human child.

Yes, relying on passivity and reactionary tactics proved worthless. So, this time, he decides to take control of the situation.

Though this was far more dangerous, at least this way he could predict the events with high certainty.

And not to mention, he needed to reshape Nero's mindset regarding his blind pursuit of victory.

Since Nero's obsession for victory is more or less traced back to watching his mother die in front of him, Lucas planned to inflict a scar deeper than that traumatic experience.

He also needed to handle this situation very delicately to avoid breaking Nero completely—otherwise, it would only mean more work for him.

That's why he came up with this flawless plan.

But the magnitude of danger he had put himself in made him question his own sanity.

"Fuck! Am I really this insane?" Lucas mused aloud.

Well, wasn't he?

He was going this far only to manipulate a teenager's emotions by inflicting a deeper scar than the loss of his own mother.

"Whatever," shaking his head, Lucas summoned a pill in his hand and gulped it down. It was a relic that he had made with his Edit Pen. It allowed him to not breathe for half an hour.

As the crimson flood reached him, Lucas released a silent scream, "Come, Phoenix's Embrace."

In the next moment, the whole King's Arena was swallowed by the crimson mist, obscuring vision completely and muffling the agonizing screams coming from within it.

If one were to look from above, instead of a stadium, one would see nothing but a patch of crimson fog amidst the concrete jungle.