Blood Online: Evolving Endlessly-Chapter 200: The Gods Final Gift

We leave you with the last of our essence and a chance for a winning battle.

The gods’ voice slowly faded into the void, leaving the arena in complete silence.

Akhil stood afloat, his two sharp wings holding him up in the air. He was surprised as the divine energy he had felt earlier quickly dispersed, spreading thin around the arena, shielding everyone within what looked like a purple cocoon.

But something was wrong.

The Monarch’s eyes ignited with rage. He fired straight at the barrier—a blast of pure blood essence that should have shattered stone. The purple cocoon didn’t budge.

His crimson eyes blazed brighter. He threw attack after attack at the barrier of energy—blood lances,压缩 waves, tendrils that had torn through the titan. Nothing worked. Each strike absorbed harmlessly into the shimmering surface.

Below, the fighters stared up at him in confusion.

"What’s going on now?" Aria’s voice carried uncertainty as her gaze fixed on Akhil, his blood-red wings spread wide across his back. Her hands tightened on her blade. Despite everything, despite the system’s command, she still couldn’t imagine raising her weapon against him.

She wasn’t alone in that hesitation.

"What’s with this fucking barrier?" Seth’s voice cut through the confusion, sharp with anger. "Is this supposed to be a gift? They lock us in a death trap and call it protection!?" He kicked at the ground, his frustration boiling over. "Fucking bastards! I’ll make sure I get every single one of you!"

The others shifted uncomfortably. The final message from the gods had left them all disoriented, and watching the Monarch rage against the barrier only deepened their confusion.

Nyla stood apart from the group, her blue eyes analyzing the barrier with cold precision. She pulled up the system message again, reading it slowly.

{The gods were saddened by the decisions they had made. The gods have atoned for their sins. This is the sacrifice of the gods. Welcome to the God’s Arena.}

’Of all times for the system to be cryptic,’ she thought, rereading each line. But beneath the vague language, patterns emerged.

’The gods’ sacrifice.’

She watched the Monarch throw another devastating punch at the barrier, watched his expression twist with something that looked almost like... fear?

"I’m not sure," Nyla began, drawing everyone’s attention, "but I think it’s actually a gift."

Ryan turned toward her. He’d been silent since the barrier appeared, observing, analyzing. "What did you notice?"

"Look at him." Nyla gestured upward at the Monarch. "He’s not trying to attack us. He’s attacking the barrier. The only reason he’d react this way is if it’s affecting him somehow." She paused, then drew one of her twin blades. "And I know you’re all experiencing this strange feeling..."

Before anyone could stop her, she dragged the blade across her palm.

"Nyla—!" Aria started forward.

Blood welled up from the cut, bright red against pale skin. Then, before their eyes, the wound began to close. Flesh knitted back together, the bleeding stopped, and within seconds her palm was unmarked.

"The gods’ final gift," Nyla said quietly, holding up her healed hand, "was a barrier that benefits us and harms the Monarch."

Above them, as if to confirm her words, the Monarch let out a furious roar. He drew back his fist and threw an earth-shattering punch at the barrier with everything he had.

The impact sent shockwaves through the arena. A massive gale of wind exploded outward in all directions. Dust billowed up in choking clouds, obscuring everything.

When it settled, the barrier remained intact. Unmarked. Unbroken.

The Monarch’s chest heaved with rage, his wings spread to their full span, blood vortex swirling violently behind him.

"Bastards!" His voice carried those terrible harmonics that made it sound like multiple beings speaking at once. "You think you’ll escape me? I’ll grow stronger—strong enough to shatter your pathetic barrier!"

His crimson eyes, burning with hunger and fury, turned downward.

Toward the fighters below.

Toward the only source of power left to him.

The arena held its breath as predator and prey locked gazes, and everyone understood simultaneously what the gods’ final gift truly meant:

They were sealed in here together.

And only one side could leave alive.

The moment Akhil’s—no, the Monarch’s—crimson eyes locked onto them, the entire arena understood with perfect clarity what was about to happen.

There would be no mercy. No hesitation. No brother recognizing sister or leader acknowledging followers. Just hunger wearing the shape of someone they’d once trusted, and the terrible mathematics of survival.

Twenty fighters against one transformed vessel.

The odds should have favored the twenty.

But every instinct they possessed screamed otherwise.

"Scatter!" Ryan’s voice cut through the paralysis first, his precognitive abilities already showing him futures where standing clustered meant death for everyone in the opening exchange.

The fighters exploded outward in all directions, combat training overriding fear, muscle memory taking over where conscious thought would have been too slow. Platforms became launching points. Barriers became cover. The arena transformed from tournament space into battlefield in the span of a heartbeat.

The Monarch didn’t pursue them.

He descended.

Not falling—descending with terrible deliberation, those blood-crystalline wings spread wide, each feather catching light in ways that made tracking his exact position difficult. He landed in the center of the arena where Jeren’s pulverized remains still stained the stone, and his feet touched ground without sound.

For three seconds, nothing happened.

The fighters held positions at the arena’s edges, weapons ready, abilities channeling, everyone waiting for someone else to make the first move because making the first move meant becoming the first target.

The Monarch’s head turned, tracking each fighter with eyes that burned crimson. When he spoke, his voice carried those terrible harmonics that suggested multiple beings speaking through one throat.

"You’re all so... full."

The word made Nyla’s blood freeze in ways her ice manipulation never had. Not ’strong’ or ’prepared’ or any descriptor that acknowledged them as opponents.

Full.

Like livestock. Like containers of something he intended to empty.

"Blood essence in every drop," the Monarch continued, and his smile showed those sharpened canines. "The gods’ final gift wasn’t the barrier. It was you. Enhanced. Empowered. Made more nutritious for my ascension."

The implication hit them all simultaneously.

The barrier wasn’t keeping the Monarch in with them.

It was keeping them in with him.

"NOW!" Nyla’s voice cut through the realization, cold and absolute. "Hit him with everything—don’t give him time to—"

The Monarch moved.

Nibo saw it first—his combat-focused perception catching the blur of motion that was too fast, too direct, aimed at the nearest fighter with surgical precision.

Greg.

The cowboy had his revolvers up, was already firing rounds enhanced by divine gifts, each bullet carrying enough force to punch through reinforced steel. Six shots in the space of a heartbeat, perfect accuracy, aimed at center mass.

Every bullet hit.

Every bullet was absorbed by the blood vortex that still swirled behind the Monarch, pulled into the crimson mass before it could make contact with flesh.

The Monarch’s hand found Greg’s throat.

"No—" Greg managed, his drawl cut off by pressure that made speech impossible.

The Monarch’s other hand drove into Greg’s chest—not stabbing, not punching, but reaching through as if flesh and bone were suggestions rather than barriers. His fingers closed around something vital, and when he pulled—

Greg’s scream lasted two seconds before the blood vortex consumed it along with everything else. His body dissolved, not into component parts but into pure crimson mist that flowed directly into the swirling mass behind the Monarch.

{Fighter Eliminated: Greg}

{Monarch Awakening: 68% → 69%}

{Warning: Barrier integrity at 94%}

The notification appeared and everyone understood the terrible equation immediately.

Each kill made him stronger. Each kill weakened the barrier. When the barrier failed or when he reached 100% awakening—whichever came first—they were all dead.