MY SUGAR MUMMY IS A BEAUTIFUL VAMPIRE

Blake watched, his face a mask of concentration. 'Impressive, but it's left him exposed.' He placed his hand on the ground, channeling his power. The blood from his previous attacks began to seep up through the cracks in the concrete, forming a network of crimson veins across the rooftop.

"You're not the only one with tricks up your sleeve, old man," Blake growled. With a gesture, the blood veins erupted, forming into dozens of spike-tipped tentacles that surged towards Damien from all directions.

Damien's ice vortex expanded, meeting Blake's blood tentacles in a clash of elemental fury. The rooftop shuddered under the force of their collision, more cracks spiderwebbing across its surface.

"Is that the best you can do?" Damien sneered, his voice echoing from within his icy fortress. "Parlor tricks and crude manipulations? You're out of your depth, Blake!"

Blake's eyes narrowed as he assessed the situation. 'His defense is strong, but it's taking all his concentration to maintain it. Time to change tactics.' With a thought, his blood tentacles liquefied, flowing around Damien's ice vortex like a crimson tide.

"Out of my depth?" Blake shot back, a dangerous glint in his eye. "I'm just getting warmed up, you frigid fuck!"

The blood began to spin, matching the rotation of Damien's ice vortex but in the opposite direction. As the two forces collided, they created a chaotic maelstrom of blood and ice.

Damien's face contorted with effort as he struggled to maintain control. "What... what are you doing?" he growled, feeling his ice being torn apart by the opposing force.

Blake's grin was all teeth and predatory intent. "Teaching you a lesson in thermodynamics, asshole." With a final push of his power, Blake caused his blood to heat up rapidly.

The effect was instantaneous. Damien's ice vortex began to melt and fragment, unable to withstand the sudden temperature change. The ancient vampire found himself at the center of a collapsing storm of his own making.

As Damien's defenses crumbled, Blake pressed his advantage. His blood coalesced into a massive fist, slamming into Damien and sending him flying across the rooftop.

Damien hit the ground hard, skidding to a stop near the edge of the building. He rose slowly, his ice armor cracked and steaming. His eyes blazed with fury as he glared at Blake.

"You'll pay for that, you insolent whelp," Damien snarled, frost already beginning to creep across his skin once more.

Blake stood his ground, his blood swirling around him in a constant state of readiness. "Big words from someone who just got his ass handed to him," he retorted. "Face it, Damien. You're outmatched, outclassed, and out of time."

As they faced each other across the ravaged rooftop, both vampires knew that the real battle was just beginning.

Elena turned to Duncan, her eyes reflecting concern and a hint of impatience. The rain continued to pour around them, soaking her elegant clothes and plastering her hair to her face. She had to raise her voice to be heard over the cacophony of combat and the relentless drumming of raindrops.

"Duncan," Elena called out, her gaze flickering between the ancient vampire and the brutal fight unfolding before them. "Perhaps we should intervene. Damien seems to be... struggling." There was a note of surprise in her voice, as if she couldn't quite believe what she was seeing.

Duncan's face remained impassive, his eyes never leaving the battle. Rainwater cascaded down his features, giving him an almost statuesque appearance. After a moment, he slowly shook his head, a small, cruel smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"No," he replied, his voice carrying easily despite the chaos surrounding them. "If Damien truly wishes to prove he deserves a place among our ranks, handling a mere fledgling like Blake should be child's play." His tone dripped with disdain, making it clear that he viewed this as a test - one that Damien was currently failing.

Elena's brow furrowed, but she nodded in acquiescence. She knew better than to question Duncan's decisions, especially when that dangerous glint appeared in his eyes.

Meanwhile, seven stories below, the scene inside the brothel stood in stark contrast to the life-or-death struggle taking place on the roof.

The opulent main room of the establishment buzzed with activity. Patrons lounged on plush velvet sofas, their laughter and chatter mixing with the soft strains of jazz playing in the background. The warm glow of crystal chandeliers bathed everything in a soft, golden light, creating an atmosphere of decadence and luxury.

At the bar, a group of well-dressed businessmen huddled together, engrossed in conversation. One of them, a portly man with a receding hairline, gestured emphatically with his drink.

"I tell you, this weather is absolutely dreadful this season," he complained, his voice carrying a slight slur. "I can't remember the last time we had such relentless rain. It's bad for business, I say!"

His companions nodded in agreement, entirely oblivious to the earth-shattering battle taking place just above their heads. The clink of glasses and the murmur of intimate conversations continued unabated.

Near one of the large windows, a couple sat close together on a chaise lounge, watching the rain cascade down the glass. The woman sighed dramatically, resting her head on her companion's shoulder.

"It's so gloomy outside," she pouted. "I was hoping we could take a romantic walk along the river tonight."

Her partner chuckled, placing a comforting arm around her. "Maybe the weather will clear up soon, darling. For now, why don't we enjoy another drink?"

As if to punctuate his words, a particularly loud crash echoed from above - the sound of Blake's blood construct colliding with Damien's ice warrior. However, to the patrons of the brothel, it merely sounded like an unusually strong clap of thunder. A few people glanced up momentarily, but quickly returned to their conversations and drinks.

As the battle continued to rage above, the patrons of the brothel remained blissfully ignorant, their biggest concern being the inconvenience of the bad weather rather than the epic struggle going on at the top.