Before Draven could fully piece it together—
She was in front of him.
No transition.
No warning.
Elliana stood there as if she had always been, silver eyes looking down at him through the darkness.
Draven glanced up.
Her voice was calm.
"Now that you know how it works," she said, "are you confident you can kill him?"
Draven didn't answer immediately.
He simply stared at her, his face blank—
Then, slowly, a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
"Yeah," he said simply.
Elliana nodded once. "Alright then. Let's not waste any time. I'll send you straight to—"
"No."
She paused.
Draven straightened, rolling his shoulders as if loosening tension he'd been carrying for far too long.
"You said we only have a few minutes, right?" he said. "Then let's make it quick."
Elliana studied him closely now.
"Apart from those two," Draven continued, "I want you to gather the rest of them in one spot and send me there first."
He stretched his neck once, casual—almost lazy.
"I'll make it quick," he said. "Once I'm done with them, you can send me to that bastard."
His eyes hardened—just for a second.
"During that time, you deal with the other one," he added. "I still think you shouldn't—but this way, you won't waste time on small fries."
He met her gaze again.
"I'll try to end everything fast," Draven finished. "So I can come help you."
Elliana didn't respond right away.
She just stared at him.
Her gaze softened.
And then—
Her hand snapped out.
She pulled him in suddenly, wrapping him tight and pressing her face against the side of his head. Shadows curled around them instinctively, shielding and sheltering.
"My little baby," she murmured.
Draven stiffened—not resisting, not pulling away—just caught off guard.
"…Right now?" he muttered flatly.
Elliana hummed contentedly.
"Of course," she said. "I can never get enough of you."
She pulled back just enough to look at him, one hand still firm on his shoulder.
"But promise me something, honey," she said gently. "You won't push yourself too hard. Okay?"
Before he could answer, she leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.
Warm.
Familiar.
Real.
Draven blinked once.
Then exhaled.
"…Alright," he said quietly.
The darkness stirred around them.
And somewhere within Elliana's domain, the battlefield began to rearrange itself—because a mother had finished worrying…
…and a son was about to go to work.
"Good," Elliana said softly.
She finally pulled away.
The darkness responded instantly—curling around Draven like a living cloak, wrapping him from the feet up, swallowing his outline piece by piece.
"Goodbye for now, honey," Elliana said gently. "See you later. I love you."
"It won't be long," Draven replied, calm and certain. "I'll be right back."
The shadows rose to his shoulders.
"Love you too."
And then—
He was gone.
The darkness sealed behind him, leaving Elliana standing alone in the dome.
She smiled.
For exactly one heartbeat.
Then she coughed.
The sound was sharp. Wet.
Elliana staggered half a step, bringing a hand to her mouth as blood spilled between her fingers—dark against pale skin. Her breath came heavy as she bent slightly at the waist, shadows tightening around her instinctively.
"…Tch."
She straightened slowly, wiping the blood from her lips with the back of her hand. Her breathing steadied—forced, controlled—as she gathered herself once more.
Her smile was gone.
Only resolve remained.
---
Elsewhere, within the darkness—
Figures began to appear.
One by one at first—knights stepping out of shadow, armor clanking softly as they turned in confusion. Then more. And more. Steel, cloaks, sigils.
A cluster of priests emerged among them, holy symbols glowing faintly as they looked around uneasily.
"What is this place—"
"Where are we—?"
"Are those—?"
The numbers kept growing.
Dozens.
Then over a hundred.
Nearly two hundred figures now stood packed together in a wide, uneven clearing of pure black ground, the darkness pressing close around them like walls.
A voice cut through the rising noise.
"…They're a lot more than I thought they'd be."
Every head turned.
From the darkness ahead, a figure stepped forward.
Draven emerged slowly, dagger resting loosely at his side. His red eyes glowed faintly in the black, his posture relaxed—almost bored—as he surveyed the mass of armored bodies before him.
He sighed.
"Damn," he muttered. "You bastards really don't end, do you?"
The knights tensed. Priests raised their hands, mana stirring.
Draven tilted his head slightly, unimpressed.
"You're like ants," he said casually. "You just keep pouring out, no matter how many get crushed."
He lifted his dagger, pointing it vaguely toward the crowd.
"So here's what's gonna happen," Draven continued, voice calm and clear. "I'm gonna kill every single one of you."
A pause.
"You can scream. You can pray. You can try to run," he added. "Doesn't matter."
His smile sharpened—thin, predatory.
"But if you do me a favor and just stand still," Draven said, stepping forward as shadows coiled eagerly at his feet, "I'll make it quick."
The darkness leaned in.
"So," Draven said calmly, lifting his dagger slightly, "don't move."
He stepped forward.
And vanished.
His body didn't blur.
Didn't sprint.
Didn't *move*.
It collapsed into shadow—flat, weightless—and slid forward like spilled ink across the ground.
The knights barely had time to register his absence—
Before Draven was **inside them**.
Four flashes of motion.
Four precise arcs.
Steel whispered.
Blood erupted.
Four knights stiffened as crimson sprayed across the darkness, throats opened cleanly from ear to ear. Their weapons slipped from numb fingers as their bodies collapsed in near-perfect unison at Draven's feet.
Silence followed.
Draven straightened slowly, dagger dripping.
He glanced down at the fallen bodies, then back up at the stunned mass surrounding him.
"Huh," he murmured. "Guess I got the hang of it."
He rolled his wrist once, testing the weight and balance of the blade.
"Makes sense," he added casually. "I've always been using it wrong anyway—since I don't have any mana."
Shock rippled through the surrounding knights.
Then discipline snapped into place.
"Formation!"
"Surround him!"
"Move—now!"
Holy mana flared as priests raised their staves, light pushing back against the darkness. Knights surged forward together, blades flashing as they rushed him from every direction at once.
Steel screamed through the air.
Draven didn't panic.
He smiled.
The shadows beneath his feet deepened.
And just as the first blades were about to reach him—
He stepped.
Again.