The crimson tempest roared down like a storm of blood and blossoms.
Draven kept Lira pressed against his chest with one arm while his other hand whipped the 7th Form in wide, overlapping arcs. Black slashes tore through the air — *Shrrrk! Shrrrk! Shrrrk!* — shattering wave after wave of razor petals and glass-sharp water droplets. Each clash sent sparks of red and black exploding outward, lighting up the park like a deadly firework display.
Lira clung to him, her voice breathless but fierce. "Draven, your arm — you're bleeding!"
A thin cut ran across his shoulder where a petal had slipped through. He didn't even flinch.
"Ignore it. Focus on the mask. It's the core."
The petal-masked monster floated slightly above the pond now, its cracked porcelain face twisting with delight. Fresh petals continuously regenerated across its body, knitting the damage.
"Such devotion! The shadow slayer protects his little light. How long until that light burns out?" It pointed a claw straight at Lira. "Her blood smells sweet… sweeter than any monster you've slain. Shall I taste it first?"
"Shut up!" Lira snapped, pulling away from Draven just enough to scoop up a handful of loose stones from the path. "You talk too much for a walking flower pot!" She hurled the stones with surprising accuracy. Two of them smashed into the monster's already fractured mask, widening the cracks further.
The creature hissed sharply, one entire side of the porcelain shattering away to reveal writhing shadows and glowing crimson veins underneath.
"Insolent little—"
Draven didn't waste the opening. He lunged forward, 7th Form blazing with deeper black energy. "Now!"
His slash came fast and heavy — a vertical black streak that split the air with a low, thunderous hum. The blade connected directly with the monster's exposed shoulder. *CRACK—!*
The impact sent the creature spinning backward across the pond's surface, petals exploding off its body like shrapnel. Dark ichor sprayed into the water, hissing on contact.
"Yes!" Lira cheered, pumping her fist. "You got it! Keep going, Draven — break the rest of that ugly mask!"
But the monster recovered faster than expected. It planted its claws into the pond and rose again, laughing through the pain. The water around it churned violently, turning fully crimson as more petal-blades rose in even greater numbers.
"Pain only makes the colors richer," it snarled, voice now distorted and layered with rage. "You think black is enough? Let me show you what happens when beauty bleeds!"
Hundreds of petal-blades fused together into massive crimson whips that lashed out from every direction. One whip cracked toward Lira's legs.
Draven intercepted it with a horizontal slash, but the force pushed him back several steps. Another whip wrapped around his sword arm, tightening painfully.
"Draven!" Lira screamed. She grabbed a broken tree branch again and swung it wildly at the whip, trying to free him. "Let him go, you freak!"
The monster's empty sockets flared. "Watch closely, girl. Watch your precious shadow bleed."
Draven gritted his teeth. With a sharp twist, he poured more power into the 7th Form. The black blade pulsed violently, drinking in the monster's spilled ichor. For a split second, the edge of the blade flickered — a faint hint of deep violet bleeding into the black, then vanishing.
*Almost…* the sword seemed to whisper in his mind, hungry and impatient.
Draven roared and slashed downward with everything he had. The enhanced black arc severed the crimson whip and carved a deep gash across the monster's chest. Ichor sprayed everywhere.
The petal-masked creature staggered, its remaining porcelain mask fracturing further. Half its face now lay in pieces on the ground, revealing a grotesque maw of jagged petals and teeth.
It laughed weakly, breathing hard. "Not… bad. But you're still too early in the 99 stages. When the final color awakens… you will beg for this mercy."
Lira rushed to Draven's side, helping support his injured arm. "Are you okay? That looked really bad. We need to finish this before more come!"
Draven nodded once, breathing steady despite the pain. He looked at her, something softer flickering behind the cold hunter's gaze.
"…You fought well. Stay close."
The monster straightened one last time, its body beginning to dissolve into swirling petals. "This round belongs to you… but the park remembers. The cave hungers for more. Next time, I won't come alone."
With a final rasping laugh, the creature exploded into a harmless shower of normal cherry blossoms that drifted gently to the ground.
Silence fell over the pond.
Lira let out a long, shaky breath and leaned heavily against Draven. "It's… gone? Really gone?" She looked up at him, eyes wide with relief and leftover adrenaline. "We actually did it. Together. You and me — petals and shadows, remember?"
Draven slowly sheathed the 7th Form. The blade gave one last satisfied pulse before quieting. He glanced down at Lira, his voice low.
"…You were reckless. But… effective."
Lira smiled tiredly, gently touching the cut on his shoulder. "That's the nicest thing you've said all day. Next time, though, no getting whipped by evil flowers, okay? I was really scared for you."
Draven didn't reply immediately. Instead, he reached out and brushed a stray petal from her hair, his touch surprisingly gentle.
"…Sorry for dragging you into this."
Lira shook her head, her smile softening. "You didn't drag me. I chose to stay. And I'd choose it again." She paused, then added quietly, "Just… promise you'll let me help more often. No more lone wolf stuff when I'm around."
Draven met her eyes for a long moment. The corner of his mouth lifted the faintest bit.
"…Deal."
As they stood together amid the scattered blossoms, the 7th Form gave a final, subtle thrum — deeper than before. In its black stage, a single thread of new color had begun to awaken.
Far away, in the monster realm, the ancient cave rumbled softly. More blood had fed the stone.
The colors were shifting.
---
**To be continued...**