Without warning, a shadow streaked across the forest.
CRASH!
Kev slammed into Druvash with bone-shattering force, the beast staggering several feet before skidding to a halt. The impact shook the ground, dust spiraling into the air.
Druvash's head snapped up, eyes blazing with murderous fury. He steadied himself, and with a guttural roar launched back at Kev, jagged spikes bristling from his arms.
But Kev was ready. He planted his feet, eyes narrowing, and spat out the demonic tongue. "Khara Thymós."
The spell cut the air like a curse. Instantly, Druvash faltered, clutching at his skull. His body convulsed as though drunk on madness, stumbling sideways, roaring in confusion. For a moment, the towering beast that had seemed unstoppable looked lost, disoriented, staggering under the weight of the incantation.
Kev didn't waste time. He knelt, hooking an arm under Renny's limp body, hoisting him up with ease. His jaw tightened, eyes flicking toward Druvash's writhing form.
"That ain't gon' hold him long," he muttered, shaking his head.
His gaze fell on Renny, pale, bloodied, barely alive. Then, Without another word, Kev bolted into the forest.
Running with Renny's limp body was no easy task. Every step jarred the weight against his arms, every breath pressed heavier with the thought that Druvash would recover soon. The spell had bought him seconds, nothing more. Blood trailed down Kev's sleeve, dripping into the dirt as he ran.
"Just hold on, homie," he muttered, tightening his grip.
The trees broke at last, and the black waters of the Acheron spread before him. The boat was waiting. Kev didn't hesitate. He leapt aboard, and the vessel carried them swiftly across the current, Druvash's howls fading into the dark behind them.
***
Renny's months in the demon hospital dragged like chains. Five long months of staring at the ceiling, too broken to move, too weak to lift a finger toward his contract. His overall of 78 had made recovery a grueling crawl, his regeneration barely sparked, struggling against the damage. If Kev hadn't come for him when he did, that would have been the end.
Every plan he had made, every scheme, every ounce of hope, all of it lay shattered with his blood on Druvash's spikes. By the time November came, he was finally cleared to leave, but the truth stung: he had missed his chance. The promotion ceremony loomed, and he had nothing to show.
Kev was waiting as usual. He helped Renny into the taxi, his easy grin masking the weight of what he was about to say.
"Man… you got no luck, Renny," Kev said, shaking his head as the cab pulled away from the hospital.
Renny turned his face toward the window. "Did you finish yours?"
Kev nodded. "Yeah, man. Got mine done. Imma be at the ceremony." His voice dropped a little. "Just wish you could be there too, feel me?"
"It's alright," Renny murmured, voice hollow. "I was delusional thinking I could finish anything with nothing. At this rate… I'll be stuck in Grade One forever." He sighed, sinking deeper into the seat.
"Come on, man, don't talk like that." Kev leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "You just gotta try a different method next year. Something that ain't a suicide hunt."
Renny gave a slow nod, but the weight in his chest stayed. His only shot at moving up was next year. Until that contract was finished, he was chained to the same grade.
The cab rolled to a stop outside his estate. Kev helped him out, clapped his shoulder, and said, "Don't worry, homie. I'll see what I can do to help you out too. Just don't give up on yourself."
Renny managed a faint smile. "I hear you."
They clasped hands in their familiar shake. Kev stepped back as the taxi pulled away.
Renny stood there for a moment, watching the red taillights fade into the night. Then he pulled out his phone, dialed a number, and pressed it to his ear.
When Leila answered, his voice was steady. "I'm ready."