My Stepmom Is A Vampire & Her Entire Bloodline Wants To Breed Me

Chapter 124: The Antihesis

Seeing Isolde’s unshaken confidence, Roanna laughed softly and descended from her throne. ”Very well. I will play with you for a while.”

”Before that, tell me where Seamus is,” Madeline interrupted, her tone cutting through their rising tension.

She found the standoff between the two women amusing, but unlike Isolde, she knew her priorities.

Roanna smirked. ”Hah. Defeat me, and Seamus is yours. You can’t claim a trophy before winning the race, can you?”

Madeline rolled her eyes, unimpressed. She stepped back toward the corner, surrounding herself with a shimmering barrier—both psychic and physical—just in case the fight turned catastrophic.

Secretly, she hoped Isolde would lose. It would make things simpler while she searched for Seamus through the lingering threads of illusion and realm within the manor.

But she already knew how this would end.

”Then let’s begin,” Isolde said, her voice calm yet charged. ”The battle that will end everything.”

She snapped her fingers, and the ground beneath her darkened as shadow bloomed outward. From it rose her nightmares, creatures twisted and elegant, born from the fear of those she faced.

Normally, her nightmare took shape from her enemy’s deepest terror. But this time, something was wrong. She couldn’t reach Roanna’s mind. It was as if a wall surrounded her thoughts or perhaps there was simply nothing inside at all.

If she couldn’t break Roanna’s mind, then she would crush her body instead.

Nhalar, the Marionette Reaper was the nightmare creature name. Threads wrapped its hollow frame, shifting like veins under a porcelain face. Its eyes were closed and held a calm, fixed smile that seemed to mock everything living.

Roanna’s eyes narrowed. ”What a show off, it’s cool I get it. But do you think you can fight me without knowing my power?”

”I don’t think it matters now since our gap in evolution,” Isolde said, even when she had been defeated by her once, it was still a long time ago.

Roanna laughed, ”Oh you’re really good at entertaining me.”

Isolde didn’t answer, even when that bitch was still as arrogant as ever, she knew the slight tremble on her hands meant more truth than her words.

The air cooled, her presence spreading until the manor began to blur, its marble walls melting into mist. The dream realm layered itself over reality, bending space to her will.

Roanna’s smirk thinned. ”Dream world again. You never learn.”

Nhalar moved first. The Reaper’s steps were soundless, its body flowing like smoke. Each turn left threads tracing patterns through the air.

Roanna blocked the first strike with her arm, blood flashing into a hardened blade. The impact cracked the floor, but Isolde didn’t so much as flinch.

Nhalar pressed forward, its motions precise and rhythmic. Threads lashed out from every direction, embedding into stone, air, and even the edges of Roanna’s clothing.

She slashed through them, but each thread that broke split into more, weaving back toward her.

Isolde said evenly. ”Struggling only makes it worse, Roanna. See? I’m changing but you,” she chuckled, ”You are still the same.”

Roanna’s jaw tightened as she felt the pull at her limbs. Her stance slipped for half a breath before she forced herself back upright.

Nhalar was already behind her. When it raised a hand, Roanna’s own blade twisted against her, cutting a strand of her hair before she tore herself free in a burst of scarlet energy.

”You always start strong,” Roanna muttered, her tone half amusement, half warning. Her palm opened, the air vibrating with power.

She inhaled slowly, and the shadows in the hall began to dissolve. The dream realm groaned. Isolde felt the pressure ripple through her control as the illusion cracked and peeled away.

Roanna tilted her head, smiling faintly. ”I told you. I can tear down your realm whenever I want.”

Isolde stepped forward, her voice low and measured. ”Then I’ll rebuild it faster than you can destroy it. It’s not like my SP is lower than yours.”

She has a gist of what a Roanna power might be and that was why she kept pushing her so she showed her bloodstyle, the only power that could resist her dream control and defeat her faster than anyone.

The floor split open again. Shadows spilled upward like liquid, swallowing color and light until the manor became half-dark. Reality warped back into Isolde’s grasp.

She adjusted the terrain without pause. The hall stretched and narrowed, pillars bending at unnatural angles to box Roanna in. Each shift pressed at her senses, the dream itself moving like a living thing under Isolde’s will.

Roanna clicked her tongue. ”Persistent as ever.”

Nhalar blurred forward. Inside the dream, its speed multiplied. Every step left a trail of thread-light that cut through the air.

Roanna met the assault head-on. Her blood erupted from her skin, solidifying into twin bone blades that curved along her forearms. Each swing left an arc of flame behind, turning her movement into a hybrid of mutation and elemental precision.

Their clash shook the corridor. Nhalar’s threads lashed in dozens of directions while Roanna’s flaming blades deflected each strike, leaving molten trails across the walls destroying the realm completely.

Isolde restructured it. Gravity tilted, air compressed, and invisible walls shifted to Nhalar’s advantage. Each adjustment changed attack angles, making it harder for Roanna to predict movement.

The manipulation didn’t hurt her directly but it thickened the dream’s presence, slowing her absorption rate.

’Damn it! I can’t absorb it all! Her dream realm is too overwhelming!’

Roanna switched tactics. Her blades liquefied into her veins before her right arm hardened again, covered in an armor of crystallized ice.

She swept her arm sideways, and a cutting wind tore across the hall, freezing and shattering Nhalar’s trailing threads.

”Adapting already,” Isolde muttered. Her tone was flat but calculated. ”Doesn’t help much if you can’t keep up.”

Roanna didn’t answer. She stepped forward, the ground cracking beneath her. The air shimmered as she heated her blood again, the ice melting into molten metal that spread across her body like armor.

Nhalar lunged from above. Threads anchored to walls and ceiling, rerouting their momentum midair.

Its strike came from behind, as it formed the twin swords cutting through the molten aura, embedding a thread directly into Roanna’s shoulder.

”Puppet Rend,” Isolde said softly.

Roanna’s arm twitched against her will. The motion forced her own blade toward her chest before she forced control back and shattered the thread with a violent surge of electricity. Sparks burst across her armor as she straightened.

”What a cheap trick, Isolde. This won’t kill me!” she screams, ”You are still as arrogant as the last time I fought you and what happened next? Shameful defeat.”

Isolde’s smirk was small, confident. ”Indeed, but who is the one with a hole in her chest now?” she laughed, mocking Roanna.

”You are the one who will lose your head in the end as I will impale your head on the pole to show everyone who dares to look down on me!”

Roanna drove her heel into the ground. Fire burst outward, carving the floor into molten fissures. The heat distorted Nhalar’s threads but not its resolve.

It moved through the flames unharmed, weaving around her in a spiral of threads that sliced through the smoke like a web tightening around prey.

Roanna switched elements again, her molten armor cooled to blackened scales, wings of blood crystal bursting from her back. She shot upward, cutting through the web, and drove both fists down in a shockwave that shattered the floor.

The manor is split in half.

Isolde countered by compressing the dream again. The broken structure folded inward, forming a cage of solid shadow.

Nhalar appeared inside it with her twin blades ready. The confined space favored precision, her kind of fight.

Roanna exhaled, feeling the dream’s resistance pressing against her skin. The more she absorbed, the slower it came.

The realm itself was fighting back, feeding her corrupted energy she couldn’t use to form more elemental or mutate her body.

She growled under her breath and changed again. Her right arm expanded, the bones shifting until they formed a massive blade.

She swung once, a tidal slash that tore through half the cage.

Isolde steadied herself as the dream flickered. ”Impressive.”

Roanna smirked. ”You should see me when I stop holding back.”

She snapped her fingers. The humidity condensed instantly. Spears of frozen water shot toward Nhalar from every angle. Nhalar cut through most of them, but one impaled its arm, pinning it to a pillar.

Roanna didn’t waste time. She closed the gap and drove her bone blade forward. The impact shattered Nhalar’s mask but beneath it was nothing but shadow and teeth.

The Reaper grinned. Threads exploded outward.

The implosion hit like a collapsing lung. The air compressed, then snapped inward. Roanna slammed her mutated arm into the ground, anchoring herself. The force dragged her back a few steps, carving deep grooves under her feet.

When it faded, Nhalar was gone. The realm trembled, flickering between dream and reality. Isolde stood unharmed, blood trailing from her fingertips.

Roanna dropped to one knee, her breath heavy. Steam rose from her skin as her arm reformed into flesh. ”Still not enough,” she said quietly.

”You’re bleeding power,” Isolde replied. ”That’s the cost of pretending you can match me.”

Roanna’s eyes narrowed. ”Pretending?”

Isolde tilted her head. ”Now I know the true nature of your power, Roanna and it is indeed impressive. You are my antithesis.”