Reborn as the God-Emperor in Marvel

No matter how proficient a vampire is in magic, their instinct in battle is always to rely on their extraordinary speed and strength to overwhelm their opponent. Barnabas was no exception. He disappeared into the darkness in an instant, a cold wind accompanying his movement as he charged toward Solomon.

The next moment was marked by a dull sound, like the sizzle of hot metal being plunged into cold water. The vampire's sharp claws clashed with the shield Solomon had conjured, sending orange-red sparks erupting from his chest.

The sparks briefly illuminated the dark corridor before quickly extinguishing, but in that fleeting moment, Solomon caught a glimpse of the vampire's pale face. Before Solomon could react, Barnabas' claws struck the shield again, causing another burst of sparks and forcing the young sorcerer to stumble back a couple of steps.

Solomon braced himself by stepping back with his right leg, regaining his balance. He swiftly raised the Ring of Raggadorr above his head, and once again, sparks flew from the shield. The vampire's powerful attack echoed like an ancient battering ram, causing the wooden floor beneath Solomon's feet to creak agonizingly.

Suddenly, the floor cracked, revealing jagged splinters, and Solomon's leg sank into the hollow floorboards.

Without hesitation, he dropped low and rolled forward, dodging a vicious downward claw strike. Although he couldn't fully see Barnabas' movements in the darkness, his long years of training allowed him to anticipate the vampire's rapid, relentless attacks. Despite Barnabas' high status, his untrained attacks were easy to predict.

Without turning around, Solomon tossed the Ring of Raggadorr behind him. He quickly stood up, pivoted into a defensive stance—his left hand held up in front of his chest, his right arm angled down to the left. But there was no one in front of him. The ring had only shattered a decorative porcelain vase at the end of the corridor, and the vampire had already vanished again.

Cautiously, Solomon reached into his pocket with his right hand and pulled out a small handful of dried carrot sticks. He quickly stuffed them into his mouth, chewing and swallowing in haste.

It had been a mistake to rely solely on his shield, but now he had corrected that error. Darkness was no longer a hindrance to him. Thanks to his darkvision spell, he could now clearly see everything within twenty meters, even in the absence of light.

He had chosen this spell instead of an area-effect spell like Burning Hands for a reason. A vampire's speed was too great; Barnabas could easily evade such an attack. Solomon only had one chance to cast a spell before the vampire's claws would slice through his throat. Moreover, his current level as a mage was not high, and his offensive spells were limited. Even using the positive energy spells from the Vishanti would require precision hits to break through the vampire's defenses. Given Barnabas' reflexes, Solomon had no confidence he could land such a blow. And even if he did, it might not cause enough damage.

Thus, enhancing himself with spells and fighting in a style similar to other Kamar-Taj sorcerers was the most effective strategy. Until he mastered the Toril spells to the point they became combat-ready, he relied on the magic of Vishanti combined with body-enhancing transmutation spells and conjuration spells as his primary means of attack.

Just a few seconds after casting the spell, Solomon heard the rapid flapping of wings and the scurrying of tiny feet approaching from the corridor.

He spun around again, though this time only halfway, and slammed his right elbow into an arm that had reached out from the darkness.

His right foot darted forward, positioning itself behind Barnabas' right leg, while his left hand grabbed the vampire's elbow. At the same time, his right hand jabbed toward the vampire's eyes.

This was Wing Chun—biu jee, the finger jab.

The half-turn had only been a feint, a move he had learned from watching Kamar-Taj's students practice Baguazhang. During self-defense lessons, Solomon had faced a variety of fighting styles, gaining valuable combat experience.

But unlike vampires, he wasn't immortal. In an environment where an ambush could come at any moment, close-quarters combat was his best option to avoid being scratched or bitten.

A life-or-death battle was not a practice session, and Solomon held nothing back. His biu jee strike was lightning-fast.

However, his opponent was not an ordinary human but a vampire with incredible speed. Barnabas dodged the strike effortlessly, Solomon's fingers merely grazing past the vampire's ear.

The vampire opened his mouth to bite Solomon's hand, but the young sorcerer quickly clenched his fist, and the half-circle ring of Raggadorr lit up, blocking the vampire's sharp fangs.

Solomon released his grip with his left hand, stepping forward with his left leg. His body slipped past Barnabas' incoming claw strike, and his right hand swung horizontally, delivering a solid backhand strike to the vampire's face.

Barnabas was sent flying, crashing toward the glass window of the corridor.

Before the vampire could smash through the window, Solomon was enveloped in a silver mist. In an instant, he vanished from where he stood, reappearing mid-air along Barnabas' flight path.

The sorcerer stood on a magical disc that had materialized beneath his feet. He then raised his hand and brought the Ring of Raggadorr crashing down with a powerful punch.

Boom!

Solomon slammed Barnabas into the floor with tremendous force, the dark wooden floorboards splintering beneath them as a cloud of wood shavings erupted into the air.

Second-circle conjuration spell, Blink Step.

Before the vampire could recover from the impact, Solomon's hands, now enveloped in orange rings of energy, began to hammer down. He alternated punches, each one smashing Barnabas' head into the floor with resounding thuds.

Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud—

The sound echoed like the rapid drumming of a festival, but there were no beautiful girls in yukatas, no lively tourists, nor children running amok. There were only two beings in the dimly lit corridor: one standing, face grim, the other lying on the floor, his life or death uncertain.

Blood splattered across the shattered floor, mixed with broken teeth.

"Huff… huff…" Solomon staggered back half a step, gasping for breath like a drowning man pulled to safety. His chest heaved as his blood-covered hands hung by his sides, even the three rings of Vishanti smeared with crimson.

His arms ached. The entire series of movements, from the initial feint to the finishing blows, had been executed in one continuous effort. Even during the self-defense lessons at Kamar-Taj, he had never engaged in such intense close combat. On top of that, he had thrown nearly fifty punches in the blink of an eye, pushing his body to its limits, with lactic acid now flooding every muscle in his arms.

In truth, he hadn't needed to fight like this. The shield he had acquired from Athena could have been used at any time. But he wanted to test his own capabilities, to see where he stood.

Now, he had his answer—if he gave it his all, he could handle a young, primal vampire.

After taking a few seconds to catch his breath, Solomon raised his arms again, forming his hands into a slow, deliberate gesture like a flower blooming. The wooden floor beneath Barnabas began to crack like a shattered mirror, and a sound like glass breaking came from beneath the vampire.

Solomon wasn't the Supreme Sorcerer. For the Grandmaster, opening the Mirror Dimension was instantaneous, but Solomon still needed to chant and gesture. That was why he had to subdue Barnabas first before locking him away.

As the mirror's cracks widened, the unconscious vampire slowly sank into the reflective surface. But just as Solomon was about to completely seal Barnabas into the Mirror Dimension, the flapping of wings and the scurrying of feet echoed once more.

Solomon looked up to see a swarm of rats and bats surging down the corridor. The flood of creatures rushed over the floor like a wave, rapidly approaching Solomon's feet. He had no choice but to abandon his spell and retreat a few steps. Thin flames erupted from his hands, burning the rats and bats in front of him to a crisp.

The fire also ignited the curtains in front of Solomon, and the sudden blaze banished all traces of darkness.

Yet, the creatures didn't attack Solomon. They swarmed down the corridor like water flowing around an island, leaving the sorcerer untouched. By the time they disappeared at the end of the hallway, Barnabas was nowhere to be seen.

In his place stood a woman dressed in a vintage pale blue gown. Her wide skirt, supported by a whalebone hoop, was adorned with intricate lace. In the firelight that illuminated the hallway, Solomon could see her face clearly. Behind her floated a ghostly figure, identical to her in appearance.

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