The Gemstone Dagger

“Courting death!”

A furious roar laced with murderous intent echoed from the sky.
A streak of crimson light flashed across the heavens as Aemiya’s massive ghostly wings flapped, unleashing a gale that shook the earth.

She descended with blazing rage, her bone scythe smashing into the ground, splitting it open.
Countless blood-red thorns and chains erupted from the fissures…

The fierce wind whipped Kant’s clothes, his roguish grin faltering under the strain.

Hey, sure, he meant to provoke her, but did she have to go this hard?
This battlefield intensity was more than he could handle.

As a skilled thief, keen observation was essential.
Though he’d been on the defensive, Kant’s eyes never stopped analyzing Aemiya.
After several clashes, he reached a conclusion:

This Vampire Progenitor wasn’t her true self.
The real Progenitor would be a god-like entity on Seraris, far beyond a mortal like him to contend with for so long.

Moreover, in this space, she was restricted.
Since the conflict began, she hadn’t chanted once or used any magic.

Kant knew his strengths: unmatched mobility and expert blade work could work miracles in close combat.
While vampires were physically formidable, they were primarily battle-mages, excelling in devastating magic and forbidden spells, with decent melee capabilities.

If this vampire girl pulled back even briefly and unleashed a magical barrage, his mortal body would likely be reduced to blood and ash in a dazzling explosion.
Yet she hadn’t—not even in her rage.

The reason was clear: in elven territory, she couldn’t use magic.
Not her true self and stripped of magic—a double debuff—Kant’s plan grew more feasible.

In this situation, escaping was viable.
But vampires could fly.

If he fled and tired, she’d catch up.
Plus, he couldn’t leave alone; he had to take Princess Felicia.

In combat, he had no chance to divert his attention.
The only option was to seize an opportunity to deal a heavy blow to the vampire.

If he could stun her briefly, he could escape with the princess.

The plan sounded simple but was highly executable.

Yet, facing the apocalyptic scene before him, cold sweat trickled down Kant’s forehead.
Even weakened, a powerhouse like her, even with his mysterious silver flames, was daunting.

As his mind raced, the silver flames enveloping him shifted.

The flames on his right arm flowed toward his dagger, as if drawn by some force.

The mithril blade melted under the flames’ heat, and Kant watched, stunned, afraid to move.

The molten metal, wrapped in silver flames, floated mid-air.

The flames refined the mithril liquid, like alchemical extraction, until the silver liquid turned translucent, transforming into a new material that began reshaping.

The reshaping was visibly rapid.
His original mithril dagger reformed into a new form in his hand.

Holding the gemstone dagger, Kant felt his body lighten, as if weightless.
What material was this?
He didn’t know, but the dagger, crafted entirely of transparent crystal, resembled a weapon chiseled by a Stone Age craftsman.

Yet, undeniably, it held a power Kant couldn’t articulate.
The moment it appeared, surrounding light converged toward it at an indescribable speed, draining the area of illumination.

The darkened space swallowed all energy and existence.

The blood-red thorns and chains from the ground disintegrated upon touching the light-deprived zone.
In contrast, Kant, wielding the gemstone dagger, became the sole light in the darkened domain.

He stood like a sun, dimming all other light sources upon contact.
The dagger, having absorbed enough light, radiated vibrant colors, its silver flames resembling a solar corona.

“Accept it.
Though its emergence came at great cost, it is the only light you seek…”

A gentle, familiar yet unfamiliar female voice whispered in his ear, like a mother from a memory that never existed.
Her voice brought unprecedented calm, soothing his spirit, dispelling fear, hesitation, and doubt like fleeting clouds.

Under her comforting voice, Kant closed his weary eyes.
When he opened them, Aemiya’s enraged, twisted face was inches away, her bone scythe poised to decapitate him in the next second.

He had to act fast…

His thief’s instincts screamed, yet in this life-or-death moment, his heart was a tranquil lake, unshaken.

As the scythe neared his skin, his right hand, gripping the gemstone dagger, moved.
No flashy moves, no cringeworthy lines—just a simple, fundamental strike.

[Basic Blade Art: Draw Slash]

Though the gemstone dagger had no sheath, who said a draw slash needed one?

As the dagger, having absorbed all surrounding light, swung, it unleashed unprecedented brilliance.
A beam of woven light particles surged forth, tearing through the sky, striking Aemiya with unreserved force.

With that single slash, the heavens and earth shifted, and for an instant, a blinding white light engulfed an area spanning dozens of miles.