The six men rushed forward.
Steel flashed through the dim sewer light.
Draven stepped forward at the same moment.
A thin thread of mana slipped from his core and spread quietly through his body—flowing along his muscles, wrapping his limbs, sharpening his senses.
His thoughts remained calm.
*This has to look real.*
*If I kill them all… the act falls apart.*
He couldn't end the fight too quickly.
He couldn't show too much.
Draven moved.
One of the men swung first.
A curved blade sliced toward Draven's neck.
Draven leaned slightly to the side.
The blade passed through empty air.
In the same motion, he drove his elbow forward—
**THUD**
It slammed into the man's ribs, sending him staggering backward with a gasp.
Another attacker lunged from the right.
Draven caught the man's wrist mid-strike and twisted.
Bone cracked.
The sword clattered to the wet stone floor.
Instead of finishing him, Draven shoved him aside.
The man slammed into the wall with a grunt.
Behind him—
The beastkin boy had already moved.
Blue mana burst from his body as he dropped to all fours and shot forward like a feral animal.
His claws flashed.
**SLASH**
One of the men barely raised his weapon in time.
The boy's claws scraped against the blade, sparks scattering in the darkness.
The man growled.
"Damn brat—!"
But the boy twisted away instantly, ducking beneath another sword swing.
His movements were fast.
Wild.
Desperate.
Draven noticed it immediately.
*Untrained.*
*But fast.*
Behind the attackers—
The purple-haired woman watched quietly.
Her arms folded beneath her chest.
A faint smile returned to her lips.
"Oh?"
Her eyes followed Draven's movements carefully.
"…So he's not completely useless after all."
Meanwhile, the fight intensified.
Another man rushed Draven from behind.
Draven turned slightly.
The sword barely missed his cloak.
His fist shot forward.
**CRACK**
The man's jaw snapped sideways as he collapsed onto the sewer floor.
Draven didn't even look at him.
But he hadn't killed him.
Not yet.
Across the tunnel—
The boy slashed again, forcing another pursuer back.
Blood dripped from his wounds.
His breathing grew heavier.
But he didn't stop.
His glowing blue eyes burned with determination.
Because behind those men…
Somewhere…
She was still waiting.
Steel clashed in the narrow sewer tunnel.
The sound of blades striking stone echoed through the damp corridors as the fight continued.
Draven moved through the attackers like a shadow—precise, controlled.
He avoided killing blows where he could.
But not all of them survived.
One man lunged recklessly.
Draven sidestepped and drove the stolen blade straight through his chest.
The man gasped once before collapsing to the ground.
Without slowing, Draven ripped the weapon free.
Another attacker rushed him from the side—
Draven moved faster.
He caught the man's arm, twisted violently, and dragged him forward.
In one motion he pulled the man in front of him, locking an arm around his throat while pressing the bloodied blade against his neck.
The man froze.
Draven's grip tightened.
"Stop."
His voice was low but carried clearly through the tunnel.
"You should let us go."
The blade pressed closer to the man's throat, drawing a thin line of blood.
"Unless you want to see him die."
For a brief moment—
Everything went still.
The remaining men hesitated.
The wolfkin boy stood a few steps away, chest rising and falling rapidly, claws still dripping with blood.
Then—
A laugh echoed through the tunnel.
Soft.
Amused.
Serethra covered her mouth slightly as she laughed.
"Oh my…"
Her purple eyes gleamed with cruel amusement.
"You really think that works on me?"
Mana began gathering around her hand.
Dark violet light formed into a growing spell circle.
She tilted her head slightly.
"You misunderstand something."
The man Draven held hostage began shaking.
"Ma—Madam—"
Serethra's smile widened.
"They are expendable."
The magic circle brightened, energy building rapidly.
"I can always replace him."
Her eyes locked onto the boy.
"But you…"
The spell pulsed with power.
"…are far more valuable."
The violet spell circle above Serethra's palm expanded.
Mana thickened in the tunnel.
The air itself seemed to hum.
The man in Draven's grip began trembling harder.
"Ma—Madam… please—!"
Serethra didn't even look at him.
Her eyes were locked on the wolfkin boy.
"My darling," she said softly, almost fondly.
"You really thought running away would change anything?"
The boy's claws dug into the wet stone beneath his feet.
His glowing blue eyes burned with hatred.
Serethra smiled wider.
"You belong to me."
The spell circle spun faster.
A dense spear of violet mana began forming at its center.
"You always did."
Draven watched the spell form.
Calm.
Calculating.
The man in his grasp began struggling harder, trying to pull away.
Draven didn't tighten his grip.
Instead—
He simply released him.
The man stumbled forward in confusion.
For a split second, he thought he had been spared.
Then—
Draven moved.
His hand shot forward, grabbing the back of the man's armor.
And with a sudden burst of strength—
He **threw him**.
Straight toward Serethra.
The man screamed.
Serethra's eyes widened slightly.
The mana spear released instinctively.
**BOOM**
The spell tore through the man mid-air.
Blood and fragments scattered across the tunnel walls.
The explosion shook the corridor.
Stone cracked.
Water splashed violently across the ground.
Dust and smoke filled the air.
Serethra slowly lowered her hand.
Her expression was no longer amused.
"…That was rude."
Through the settling dust—
Draven stepped forward again.
The stolen sword still hung loosely in his hand.
His cloak shifted slightly as he walked.
The boy stared.
Something about the way this man moved—
It felt wrong.
Too calm.
Too controlled.
Serethra narrowed her eyes.
"You're strange."
Mana gathered around her again.
More carefully this time.
"Most people would have tried to run by now."
Draven stopped a few meters away.
His voice remained quiet.
"You talk too much."
For a moment—
The tunnel went silent again.
Then Serethra smiled slowly.
"Oh."
Her mana surged outward.
"So you want to play?"
Behind Draven—
The boy crouched lower, claws ready.
But deep inside…
He realized something.
These people chasing him…
They were dangerous.
But the man standing in front of him now—
Was something else entirely.