A violent burst of energy erupts from Harold Wang’s frame, tearing through the hall. The marble floor beneath him cracks and splinters. Chandeliers shatter in a rain of glass; windows blow outward, their panes exploding into the night. His eyes burn deep, glowing crimson. Fangs descend, long and sharp. Dark veins writhe across his skin, pulsing with ancient power. His fingers lengthen into curved, deadly claws that gleam like polished obsidian. The very air trembles around him, heavy and charged.
This is no longer the respectable founder of Majestic Academy. This is the vampire lord—the monster—hidden beneath the mask for centuries.
Andrei breathes the word like a prayer, half hope and half horror.
“Father…”
Even he, his own son, has rarely seen Harold unleash his full power. The sheer scale of it steals the breath from his lungs.
Harold looks at him, his expression hardening into something terrible.
“It seems I must handle this myself,” he says, his voice dropping an octave, rough and guttural. He gestures sharply toward the guards. “Take him away. He will not interfere further.”
Before Andrei can protest, strong hands seize his arms. Harold turns away from his son as if he no longer matters, his gaze sweeping slowly back to Rose. Crimson eyes lock onto hers, burning with unbridled fury.
“You wanted my attention?” His voice booms, echoing off the cracked walls, deeper and more monstrous than before. “Now you have it.”
Rose tightens her grip upon the hilt of her sword until her knuckles whiten. The silver blade glows faintly, reflecting the crimson fire in his eyes. She does not step back. She does not flinch.
Chaos erupts instantly. The true battle begins.
Behind her, Jared moves swiftly with a select group of Dream University students, securing every exit. They stand firm, blocking doorways, their orders clear. No vampire leaves this academy tonight. No one escapes.
Outside the main conflict, Dan and Elsie engage Harold’s most powerful allies, drawing them away from Rose so she faces no one but him. Steel clashes against fang and claw; the Zhao family fights with discipline and purpose, protecting the innocent and neutralising threats before they can spread.
Rose never takes her eyes off Harold. She meets his crimson gaze steadily.
“It seems I finally got through to you,” she says, her voice calm even as the air shakes around them.
Harold’s lips curl back in a snarl.
“You should have stayed at Dream University,” he growls. “You should have stayed quiet. You should have never challenged me.”
“And you should have left us alone,” Rose replies evenly. “I know exactly what you did. You sent your allies to tear Dream University to the ground while you kept us occupied here. So let us finish this now. Let us see which school remains standing when the sun rises.”
Harold laughs—a harsh, barking sound that holds no warmth.
“At least I do not burden myself with protecting humans,” he sneers. “They are weak. They are fragile. And they will break before the night is done.”
Then he vanishes.
A deafening boom tears through the hall. The floor shatters exactly where he stood only a heartbeat earlier. Rose barely lifts her sword in time.
Claw meets silver.
Sparks explode in a blinding flash. The impact sends a shockwave rippling outward. Nearby chairs are flung aside. Marble walls split further. Rose slides backward several feet, her boots carving deep grooves into the stone, but she stays on her feet.
Harold stands where she stood a moment earlier, unshaken. He smiles—a terrible, blood‑thirsty smile.
“You survived that strike,” he observes. “Impressive.”
Rose readjusts her grip upon the hilt, settling into her stance.
“I intend to survive far more than that,” she answers.
Harold strikes again. Faster. Stronger. Deadlier. He moves like a blur of shadow and fury, striking from angles that should be impossible. Rose meets him blow for blow. Sword and claw collide again and again, each impact ringing like thunder through the ruined hall. Sparks fly with every clash. Neither yields an inch. Neither gains the upper hand.
Meanwhile, Andrei and Zyber fight back‑to‑back near the balcony doors, defending themselves against Harold’s two brothers—Uncle Hans and Uncle Howard. The men who only moments ago locked Andrei away now attack him with lethal intent.
Hans strikes hard and fast, his claws tearing through Andrei’s sleeve.
“So you choose to fight your own blood?” Hans snarls, his strikes carrying no mercy. “You are no longer family to us.”
Zyber ducks a sweeping blow, hissing as a claw grazes his shoulder, drawing blood. He glances sideways at Andrei, breathless.
“Hell of a family you’ve got!” Zyber calls out, grinning despite the danger. “Full of strength… and absolutely no mercy!”
Andrei parries another strike, his expression grim. “They follow orders. I choose what is right.”
Outside the great hall, the wider battle turns steadily in the Zhao’s favour. Majestic Academy’s students and guests, confused and leaderless, are slowly disarmed and restrained. Resistance collapses. Many yield without fighting, seeing the futility of standing against such organised power. Harold’s VIP allies—clan leaders and powerful figures from across the region—are subdued one by one. The campus grounds are strewn with dark blood and fallen figures, all still alive but weakened, bound, and stripped of the will to fight.
As the battle outside winds down toward a quiet, heavy conclusion, the fight inside the great hall is only just beginning. Rose and Harold continue to clash, the hall shaking beneath their blows, neither giving ground, neither willing to step back.