An Understated Dominance by Marina Vittori

The sudden turn of events took everyone by surprise. No one had expected Arion to strike so suddenly; he was so fast that they couldn’t even see his movement.

Even Willem, renowned for his speed, couldn’t react in time. One slap had sent him flying-simple, brutal, and unstoppable.

At that moment, they finally realized that the seemingly harmless Arion was much more formidable than they had imagined.

Willem staggered to his feet and reached up to straighten his twisted neck. His collapsed cheek began to heal at a visible rate. Fortunately for him, vampires possessed extraordinary regenerative abilities. Without it, the slap would have crippled him.

“You’re strong for an old geezer, but it’ll take more than that to finish me off,” Willem hissed through clenched teeth. The bloodthirst in his eyes was unmistakable as he glared at Arion. If he could drain Arion’s blood, his strength would surge to unimaginable heights.

“Oh? This is interesting.” Arion raised an eyebrow with a faint smile.

“Go to hell, old geezer!” Willem snarled and sprang into action. He pushed off with his feet and turned into a blood-red shadow as he charged toward Arion.

With one hand behind his back, Arion didn’t move to dodge. Instead, he extended his right hand and lightly tapped the incoming shadow.

A loud crack split the air as a purple lightning bolt, as thick as a human thigh, shot out. The surrounding night sky lit up as the bolt streaked across it.

the signature technique

as his wrist. But Arion’s lightning bolt was as thick as a thigh. This was no

it into pieces. But then, something strange happened. The shattered remains transformed into thousands of vampiric

and their erratic movements made them hard to track. They scattered in all directions before swiftly regrouping and charging at Arion

outward. Any bat that touched it was instantly knocked

Glow Incantation would serve only as a defensive shield, Arion’s version carried offensive power. Any evil energy that came into contact would

attack fail, the swarm of bats quickly regrouped and transformed back into Willem’s original form. But he looked even paler than before. The

got? And you dare to claim you

snarled. His fangs and claws were bared as he lunged

“Attack!”

the others to strike. In an instant, more than a dozen

with extraordinary physical strength. His speed, power, and defenses set him apart from other ultimate grandmasters. His combat style was violent he used his hands

Batuul’s fist mastery had reached perfection, which allowed each strike to

technique had a hidden precision

was a master swordsman with advanced