The night air shuddered with the clash of heat and steel.
The moment Draven stepped from the alley, shadows writhed at his feet like living smoke, and the black fire licked along his arms. The soldiers drew back instinctively, their torches dim beside his unnatural flame.
Captain Elric did not flinch. His heavy boots thudded against the cobblestones as he strode forward, greatsword balanced with casual ease across his shoulder. His scarred face betrayed neither surprise nor fear—only the steady calm of a man who had slain more foes than he could count.
"So the rat shows himself," Elric said, voice gravel deep. "You burn like a cursed torch, boy. But fire dies quick. I'll put yours out."
Draven's lips curled faintly. "You can try."
The soldiers glanced between them, tense as bowstrings.
---
The Clash Begins
Elric's sword came down like a thunderbolt. The ground shuddered as the blade split stone where Draven had stood a heartbeat earlier. Sparks sprayed across the alley walls.
Draven darted sideways, shadow trailing his steps. With a flick of his wrist, black flame leapt forth, a tendril of fire that lashed toward Elric's chest.
Elric swatted it aside with a sweep of his blade, as though brushing away cobwebs. The fire hissed and clung to steel, but the captain twisted his grip and flared his mana. The flames guttered, unable to devour the tempered weapon.
"Pathetic," Elric growled.
He pressed forward with relentless weight. Each swing of the greatsword was a storm, cleaving air and stone alike. Draven barely evaded, rolling, sliding, his ribs screaming with each movement. The memory of his wounds from the Baron's soldiers throbbed, slowing him.
Too slow, Draven thought. He's faster than he looks.
The Ignivar blood in his veins surged, shadowfire racing to his limbs. He thrust both palms forward, flames erupting in a wave that twisted like living shadows. The heat warped the air, searing toward Elric.
The captain did not retreat. He planted his feet, muscles bulging as he swung his sword in a wide arc. Mana roared through the steel, scattering the shadowfire in a burst of sparks.
Draven's eyes narrowed. So he can break my flames head-on…
---
Power of the Captain
Elric moved with ruthless precision. His greatsword, though massive, flowed like an extension of his body. Each strike carried not only raw strength but the discipline of a veteran who had carved his skill on battlefields, not training yards.
A diagonal slash tore through a wall, sending shards of brick tumbling. A backswing shattered a lamppost like kindling. Wherever Elric stepped, destruction followed.
"You fight like a child," the captain mocked, his scarred face set in grim lines. "Did you think fire alone makes you strong? This is Grey Town. We kill children who play at war."
Draven's breath came ragged, sweat stinging his eyes. His arms burned from deflecting shockwaves with hastily conjured flames. Each strike rattled his bones, forcing him backward.
But his resolve did not waver. "Then kill me if you can."
---
The Shadow's Bite
Elric lunged, sword stabbing straight for Draven's chest. At the last instant, Draven dissolved into smoke—his form shattering into shadows that slipped around the thrust.
He reappeared at Elric's flank, palm outstretched. "Burn."
Black flame exploded point-blank, slamming into the captain's armor. For a heartbeat, Elric staggered, the steel hissing as shadowfire ate into it.
But with a guttural roar, he twisted, mana flooding his frame. The armor glowed red-hot, forcing the fire to dissipate. His fist lashed out, smashing into Draven's ribs like a hammer.
Pain exploded through Draven's body. He flew back, crashing into a wall. The impact knocked the breath from his lungs. Blood filled his mouth, hot and metallic.
Too strong… he's a monster.
Elric advanced, slow and inevitable. "I've fought mages who could shatter castles. You're not even a spark compared to them. You think you can challenge the Baron? Fool."
---
Desperation
Draven dragged himself up, swaying on trembling legs. His body screamed to yield, to collapse. But deep inside, the Ignivar blood throbbed with furious rhythm, urging him to rise.
You cannot die here. Not while their names lie in ash. Not while the world forgets.
He spread his hands. The veins across his arms glowed faintly, black flame crawling across his skin. He forced the current of Ebonfire Veins into motion, despite the agony that tore through his chest.
The shadowfire surged higher, darker, wilder.
Elric narrowed his eyes. "So the rat bares his teeth."
Draven roared and hurled the flames in a spiral. Shadows wrapped the fire, twisting it into a lance of black inferno. The spear shrieked as it tore through the air toward Elric.
For the first time, the captain's expression hardened. He swung his sword two-handed, cleaving downward with a roar. Steel met shadowfire in a collision that shook the street.
The explosion tore through buildings, flinging stone and timber in every direction.
---
Narrow Escape
When the smoke cleared, the cobblestones were cracked and smoking. Draven knelt, his chest heaving, blood dripping down his chin. Elric stood across from him, armor scorched, a faint burn seared across his cheek—but still very much alive.
"You're stronger than a gutter rat has any right to be," Elric admitted, voice like iron scraping stone. "But strength without mastery is nothing."
He lifted his blade again, relentless.
Draven's vision blurred. His body would not withstand another direct clash. If I stay, I die.
He slammed his palm against the ground. Shadows surged upward, enveloping the street in choking darkness. Torches sputtered, men cursed, blind in the sudden void.
By the time the smoke cleared, Draven was gone.
---
Oath of the Captain
The soldiers coughed, their eyes wide with fear. "Captain… he escaped…"
Elric stared into the fading smoke, his expression grim. He touched the faint burn upon his cheek, the first mark an enemy had left on him in years.
"Ignivar," he muttered, the name like poison on his tongue.
Then he raised his voice, booming through the night.
"Listen well! There will be no dawn for this boy. I swear by steel and blood, I will cut him down before the next sun rises. Spread the word—the hunt begins!"
The soldiers roared their assent. The streets of Grey Town trembled as the chase closed in.
---
In the Shadows
Far from the patrols, Draven staggered into the ruins of an abandoned chapel. His body felt broken, his breath shallow, but his eyes still burned.
He pressed a hand to his chest, where the fire of Ignivar still pulsed faintly. "So that is the Captain's strength… A wall I cannot climb yet."
Yet even as he bled, a grim smile touched his lips.
"He bleeds. He can be burned. Next time, I won't run."
The flames in his blood whispered back, urging him onward.
The first round had ended. The next would come soon.