Bloodbound Tyrant: The System Made Me Unstoppable-Chapter 23: The Firstborn’s Shadow

# The Firstborn’s Challenge

The Blood Sanctuary was no more.

Where once stood ancient walls carved from crimson stone, now only fragments of memory drifted in an endless void. The sanctuary—a monument to forbidden rituals that had stood for millennia—had been obliterated as easily as smoke dispersed by wind. The crimson walls had crumbled into nothingness, leaving behind only the bitter taste of sulfur and the weight of something far more sinister.

The air itself had become hostile, thick with sulfur that burned the lungs and echoes that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. Moaning spirits wailed in languages that predated civilization, their voices layering over each other in a cacophony of despair. Clawing whispers scratched at the edges of consciousness like fingernails on glass, while beneath it all lurked a black silence that didn’t just absorb sound—it devoured light itself, hope itself, reality itself.

This wasn’t just destruction. This was unmaking.

Lucien stood at what felt like the edge of reality itself, his bare torso a canvas of supernatural power. The blood-sigils that had been etched into his flesh during the Crimson Pact now glowed with renewed intensity, spreading across his back and chest like living tattoos. The runes pulsed in rhythm with his heartbeat, casting dancing shadows that seemed to move independently of their source. Each symbol told a story of dominion—over blood, over flesh, over the very essence of life itself.

Behind him, his newly bonded lay in various states of recovery. Selene’s silver hair was disheveled, her usually pristine appearance marred by the violent energies they had channeled. Her violet eyes flickered with residual moonlight as she struggled to process what had just occurred. Rayna remained in a predatory crouch, her werewolf instincts keeping her alert despite the disorientation. Her auburn hair caught what little light remained, and her emerald eyes constantly scanned for threats. Zaria’s wings were partially extended, the corrupted feathers trembling as divine and infernal energies warred within her transformed essence.

They were still stunned from the Crimson Pact, their individual powers now flowing through invisible tethers directly into Lucien’s core. He could feel their essence mingling with his own—Selene’s cool moonlight tempered his vampiric fire, Rayna’s wild ferocity added primal strength to his movements, and Zaria’s corrupted divinity provided a anchor of power that defied mortal understanding. His heart no longer beat with one rhythm but three, each pulse a symphony of shared souls.

The sensation was intoxicating and terrifying in equal measure. He was no longer just Lucien—he was a fusion of four beings, their combined power creating something that shouldn’t exist according to the natural order.

Before him stood the intruder who had shattered their world with casual indifference.

The Firstborn.

Even standing still, the entity radiated wrongness like heat from a forge. He wasn’t just a vampire—Lucien could sense that much immediately. The familiar scent of undead blood was there, but twisted, corrupted by something far older and more malevolent. He wasn’t just ancient, though the weight of eons pressed down around him like a physical force.

He was wrong on a fundamental level, an aberration that reality itself seemed to recoil from.

His body shimmered with an otherworldly quality, as if he wasn’t entirely present in this dimension. The effect was unsettling—sometimes he appeared solid as stone, other moments he seemed translucent as morning mist. Bone armor had fused with his flesh in patterns that hurt to look at directly, the calcium growths forming protective plates that pulsed with dark veins. Shadow clung to him like a second skin, writhing and coiling as if alive.

Most disturbing was the crown of black roots that twisted over his head, growing directly from his skull in spiraling patterns that seemed to shift when observed peripherally. The organic headpiece wasn’t worn—it was part of him, as natural and terrible as cancer. And his eyes... those void-orbs seemed to peer not just at Lucien, but through him, examining the very code of his existence like a programmer reading corrupted data.

"You’re not ready," the Firstborn said, his voice carrying the authority of thunder muffled in smoke. Each word seemed to echo from multiple directions at once, as if the void itself was speaking. "You took what was forbidden without understanding the consequences. You awakened the Tyrant’s brand before your time. Now they will come—all of them."

The warning hung in the air like a death sentence. Lucien could feel the truth in those words, the weight of cosmic attention suddenly focused on him like the gaze of hungry gods.

But instead of fear, he felt only defiance burning in his chest. His newly enhanced blood sang with power, his merged essences creating a harmony of strength that made him feel invincible. "Let them," he snarled, clenching his fists until his knuckles cracked like breaking bones.

The familiar blue glow of his system interface flickered to life, overlaying his vision with urgent warnings:

> [System Alert: Threat Level Assessment: CATACLYSMIC]

> [Enemy Power Level: Beyond measurement parameters]

> [Estimated success probability in direct combat: 0.003%]

> [Recommendation: IMMEDIATE TACTICAL WITHDRAWAL]

> [Secondary Recommendation: PRAYER TO PREFERRED DEITY]

Lucien’s grin was sharp enough to cut shadows. "Good odds," he said, his voice carrying the reckless confidence that had gotten him this far. Three thousandths of a percent? He’d faced worse odds before—though admittedly, never against something that could unmake reality with a gesture.

The Firstborn’s response was to raise a single finger, the gesture almost casual in its simplicity.

And the world ripped apart like wet paper.

The blackness surged forward like a tidal wave of pure negation, swallowing the space between them in an instant. Lucien’s enhanced reflexes kicked in, vampiric speed combining with his bonded partners’ abilities to tear through the air like a cannon shot. He launched himself forward in a desperate gambit, drawing on every ounce of power flowing through their shared connection.

His fist blazed with combined energies—Rayna’s werewolf brute strength layering over his vampiric might, while Selene’s moonfire wreathed his knuckles in silver flames that burned cold as winter stars. The air itself screamed as he tore through space, reality bending around the concentrated force of his attack.

It hit with the force of a colliding planet.

The Firstborn didn’t even blink.

Lucien’s fist stopped mid-air, suspended inches from the bone mask as if he’d struck an immovable wall. For a heartbeat, he hung there, his entire body straining against an invisible force that felt like trying to punch through the concept of solidity itself. Then the force reversed his momentum, catching him like a gnat in a hurricane.

He slammed into a wall of crystallized shadow so hard that the impact sent shockwaves through dimensions he couldn’t name. The collision drove the air from his lungs and sent copper-bright blood spraying from his lips. Stars exploded behind his eyes as his enhanced healing struggled to cope with damage that went beyond the merely physical.

> [DAMAGE SUSTAINED: -712 HP]

> [Blood Armor Status: FAILING]

> [Regeneration Rate: Insufficient for current damage type]

> [Warning: Dimensional trauma detected]

The taste of his own blood was bitter with defeat and fury. He pushed himself up from the crater he’d carved in the shadow-wall, wiping crimson from his lips with the back of his hand. The metallic tang reminded him of copper pennies and broken dreams.

"Lucien!" Selene’s voice cut through the void like a silver blade, filled with anguish and desperate love. She rose behind him, her usually perfect composure shattered by seeing him so brutally outmatched.

He spat blood and forced himself to stand straighter, every muscle protesting the movement. "Stay back!" The command came out rougher than intended, but he couldn’t bear the thought of them being hurt because of his reckless ambition.

Rayna’s growl rumbled deep in her throat, her golden eyes blazing with protective fury. "You’re not fighting this freak alone," she snarled, her body already beginning to shift as werewolf strength flooded her limbs. Her loyalty burned bright as forge-fire, unwavering even in the face of impossible odds.

Zaria’s six wings spread wide, each feather gleaming with corrupted divine light. Her angelic essence leaked fury into the air around her, creating halos of wrathful energy that made the void itself recoil. "Our powers are yours now, remember?" Her voice carried the weight of fallen grace, beautiful and terrible in equal measure.

Looking at them—his bonded, his partners, his anchors in a reality gone mad—Lucien felt his grin return. They were right. He wasn’t the same person who had entered the Blood Sanctuary. He was more now, greater than the sum of his parts.

"Then let’s see what we can really do," he said, his voice carrying new harmonics as their combined essences resonated within him.

> [System Skill: BLOODBOUND COMMAND - ACTIVATED]

> [Available Abilities:]

> [Selene – Moonlight Chain: Binding ethereal construct, damage scales with lunar phase]

> [Rayna – Feral Charge: Explosive movement technique, ignores conventional defenses]

> [Zaria – Divine Rejection: Heaven’s wrath given form, effectiveness vs unholy entities: +200%]

> [Synergy Bonus: All abilities enhanced by 150% when used in combination]

Lucien’s aura exploded outward like a crimson sun being born, energy twisting into a perfect halo lined with their combined essences. The air itself seemed to sing as three different types of power merged into something entirely new. Sigils raced along his arms like lightning tattoos, each one representing a different aspect of their merged strength.

Power flowed through him like molten gold, transformative and intoxicating. He could feel Selene’s moonlight cooling his vampiric fire into something more controlled, Rayna’s wild ferocity adding explosive force to his movements, and Zaria’s divine corruption providing a foundation of power that transcended mortal limitations.

He vanished.

The world blurred past him as he moved faster than thought itself, reality struggling to keep up with his enhanced speed. He reappeared behind the Firstborn in a shower of displaced air and crimson sparks, his approach so swift that even the ancient entity seemed momentarily surprised.

The Moonlight Chain materialized like a silver serpent, snapping around the Firstborn’s neck with perfect precision. The ethereal construct blazed with lunar runes that burned against the darkness, each symbol a word of binding in the language of night itself. At the same moment, Lucien channeled Feral Charge through his legs, the werewolf technique transforming his limbs into springs of compressed violence.

He launched into a whirlwind barrage of blows that turned his fists into blurred afterimages. Each punch carried the weight of combined destinies, his knuckles trailing streams of mixed energy—silver moonlight, golden werewolf strength, and his own crimson vampiric might. The air screamed as he punched holes in space itself, reality warping around the concentrated violence of his assault.

The Firstborn raised his hand to counter, shadow beginning to coalesce around his fingers—

And that’s when Zaria’s Divine Rejection struck.

A pillar of heavenly light slammed down from the nonexistent sky above, searing through the void like the wrath of forgotten gods. The radiance was blinding in its purity, but twisted by Zaria’s fall into something that burned with righteous corruption. It was divine justice filtered through a lens of beautiful damnation.

Lucien roared as he pushed forward through the cascade of holy fire, driving his fist with every ounce of strength he possessed into the Firstborn’s chest. Power flowed through him like a river of liquid stars, three souls singing in perfect harmony as they struck as one.

This time—the blow landed.

The impact sent shockwaves through dimensions, reality rippling outward from the point of contact like a stone thrown into still water. The Firstborn staggered backward, his perfect composure finally cracking as he absorbed the full force of their combined assault.

A crack zigzagged down his bone mask, the first sign of damage he had shown.

"You..." he rasped, and for the first time, his voice carried something that might have been surprise. "You amuse me."

The system’s response filled Lucien with elation and terror in equal measure:

> [CRITICAL HIT SUCCESSFULLY LANDED]

> [Enemy Structural Integrity: 91% remaining]

> [Analysis: Enemy possesses extreme damage resistance]

> [Recommendation: Consider alternative strategies]

Lucien’s heart plummeted like a stone. That perfect combination attack, empowered by three souls and delivered with everything he had—had done nine percent damage. Nine percent to something that seemed barely inconvenienced by the assault.

What kind of monster was he facing?

The Firstborn’s body began to convulse, shadows peeling back like shedding skin to reveal something far worse underneath. Where flesh should have been, a pulsing red core beat like a heart made of concentrated curses. The organ throbbed with malevolent rhythm, each pulse sending waves of corrupted energy through the void around them.

Tentacles of living blood erupted from various points on his transformed body, lashing toward the women with predatory intelligence. Each appendage moved like a striking snake, seeking to corrupt or drain whatever it touched.

Selene’s training kicked in instantly, her hands weaving patterns in the air as she raised a barrier of crystallized moonlight. The defensive construct blazed with silver fire, barely deflecting the first blood-tentacle as it struck like a battering ram. The impact sent her skidding backward, her boots leaving grooves in the strange substance that passed for ground in this place.

Rayna spun with werewolf grace, her claws extending into razor-sharp talons that gleamed like polished steel. She sliced the second tentacle in half with a sound like tearing silk, black ichor spraying from the severed appendage. Her movements were poetry written in violence, each strike perfectly calculated for maximum damage.

Zaria hurled a spear of pure divine light, the weapon piercing the third blood-tentacle and pinning it to the ground with a sound like breaking bells. Her corrupted radiance burned against the darkness, creating a light show that would have been beautiful if it weren’t so terrifying.

But a fourth tendril moved with serpentine cunning, slipping past their defenses to strike Lucien square in the chest.

It didn’t hurt—which was somehow worse than pain would have been.

It infected.

The moment the blood-tentacle made contact, Lucien felt something foreign entering his system. Not through his skin or bloodstream, but directly into his essence, his very soul. The intrusion was intimate and violating, like having someone else’s thoughts poured directly into his mind.

> [STATUS EFFECT APPLIED: Curse of the First Blood]

> [Effect: All future evolutionary changes will mutate unpredictably]

> [Duration: PERMANENT]

> [Warning: This curse cannot be removed by conventional means]

> [Warning: Evolutionary stability compromised]

Lucien snarled, his hands clawing at his chest as he tried to tear away the invasive presence—but the tendril was already melting into him like liquid shadow, disappearing beneath his skin. For a moment, his veins turned black as ink, visible beneath his flesh like dark lightning. His blood felt like it was screaming, every cell in his body rejecting the foreign influence even as it merged with his essence.

The sensation was indescribable—like being rewritten at the genetic level while remaining conscious for every moment of the process.

The Firstborn’s laughter echoed through the void, a sound like breaking glass mixed with dying stars. His bone mask had cracked further, revealing fangs made of calcified shadow and eyes that burned with black fire.

"You thought the Crimson Pact was power?" he whispered, his voice carrying across impossible distances. "It was bait, little prince. You were never meant to succeed this early in the game. The real Tyrant—the one whose crown you so foolishly claim—still sleeps in the depths of eternity."

The words hit Lucien like physical blows, each revelation rewriting his understanding of his situation. Everything he thought he had accomplished, every victory he had claimed—had it all been part of some larger manipulation?

His eyes widened as the implications sank in. "What do you mean?" The question came out as barely more than a whisper, but it carried the weight of dawning comprehension.

The Firstborn stepped backward into the consuming void, his form already beginning to fade as he prepared to depart. But before he left, he raised one finger and pointed it directly at Lucien’s heart.

"Come find me... in the Tomb of the Hollow God," he said, each word carrying the weight of prophecy. "Survive that crucible, prove you’re more than just another pretender to power, and perhaps we’ll have a proper conversation about your destiny."

Then—he was gone.

The void collapsed inward like a deflating balloon, reality rushing back to fill the space he had occupied. Colors returned to the world, though they seemed muted and wrong somehow. Sounds resumed their normal frequencies, but carried undertones that hadn’t been there before.

Lucien dropped to his knees, gasping as the full weight of what had happened crashed down on him. His system interface flickered like a damaged screen, blue light stuttering as unknown processes ran in the background.

> [Blood Core Mutation Detected]

> [Warning: Power evolution proceeding beyond System parameters]

> [Warning: Entity designation "???" classification "The Black Crown" has registered your existence]

> [Warning: You are now visible to cosmic-level threats]

> [Probability of survival without immediate power increase: 12%]

The notifications kept coming, each one more ominous than the last.

Selene fell beside him, her cool hands clutching his arm with desperate intensity. "Lucien! Say something!" Her violet eyes were wide with concern and fear, the normally composed enchantress showing cracks in her perfect facade.

He looked at her, and she gasped. His eyes were no longer just crimson—they now swirled with red and black in hypnotic patterns that seemed to pull at the viewer’s consciousness. The curse was already beginning to change him in ways he couldn’t yet understand.

"I’m fine," he said, though they both knew it was a lie.

Rayna grabbed his other side, her werewolf strength easily supporting his weight. "You’re not fine," she said bluntly, her enhanced senses no doubt detecting the foreign corruption now flowing through his veins. "Something’s inside you now. Something that doesn’t belong."

Zaria hovered above them, her wings creating downdrafts that stirred the settling dust. Her expression was grim as she studied him with eyes that had once looked upon divine truth. "You said you’d break the world before you broke us," she reminded him, her voice carrying both accusation and concern.

Lucien’s chuckle was weak but genuine. "Guess I’m doing both." The admission hurt more than the physical damage he had sustained. He had wanted to protect them, to be their strength—instead, he might have doomed them all.

But even as despair threatened to overwhelm him, the system chimed with new information:

> [System Achievement Unlocked: Bloodbound Tyrant — Stage One Complete]

> [New Primary Objective: Reach the Tomb of the Hollow God]

> [Objective Classification: SURVIVAL MANDATORY]

> [Time Limit: 72 hours, 00 minutes, 00 seconds]

> [Future Penalty: Cosmic Erasure]

A red countdown timer appeared in the corner of his vision, the numbers glowing like fresh blood against his retina. The digits began their inexorable march towards zero, each second bringing them closer to an unknown but certainly terrible fate.

72:00:00 71:59:59 71:59:58

Selene’s voice trembled as she watched his expression change, reading the implications in his face. "What happens if we don’t make it in time."

Lucien stood slowly, his body protesting every movement but his will unbroken. The ground beneath their feet began to crack as new energies flowed through him, reality struggling to contain his transformed essence.

But their immediate problems were far from over.

Because when he looked up, the sky above was no longer the natural blue of earthly heavens.

It was crimson as fresh blood.

A symbol had been burned into the heavens themselves — a black sigil shaped like a crown dripping eternal blood, each drop falling upward into infinity. The mark pulses with malevolent life, visible from every point on the planet as a reminder that the cosmic order had been fundamentally disrupted.

And far from the horizon where earth met sky in a line of fire, something enormous began to stir.

Wings.

Wings the size of cities, each feather a mountain of shadow and bone. They blotted out sections of the crimson sky as they unfurled, casting shadows that fell across entire continents. The wingspan was so vast that it defiled comprehension, a flying creature that belonged in nightmares rather than reality.

A roar shook the world, the sound travelling through dimensions as well as air. Windows shattered across the globe, buildings swayed, and somewhere in the distance, lesser creatures fled in terror from the approaching apocalypse.

The system’s response was immediate and terrifying:

> [New Threat Detected: Dread Sovereign - Ka’thar, King of the Sky Tombs]

> [Classification: WORLD - ENDING ENTITY]

> [Estimated Time to Arrival: 71:43:22]

> [Survival Probability if Encountered at Current Power Level: 0%]

> [Recommendation: ACHIEVE NEXT EVOLUTION BEFORE CONTACT]

Lucien felt his fangs extend as battle-hunger waved with rational terror in his chest. The curse in his blood sang with anticipation, welcoming the approaching chaos as an opportunity for growth.

He looked at his bonded — Selene with her moonlit beauty and ancient wisdom, Rayna with her fierce loyalty and wild strength, Zaria with her corrupted divinity and warrior’s heart — and felt his resolve crystallize into something unbreakable.

"Looks like the real game just started," he said, his voice carrying new harmonies that made the air itself vibrate with potential.

The countdown continued it’s merciless descent, each second bringing them closer to trials that would either forge them into legends or destro them utterly.

But as he stood there, marked by cosmic forces and claimed by ancient curses, Lucien couldn’t help but smile.

After all, he’d never been one to back down from impossible odds.