The air crackled with tension. Lightning snapped overhead. Holy mana flared along the remnants of Kaela's barrier. Blood slicked the ground, mingling with shattered wood and torn earth.
Kaela collapsed to her knees, chest heaving, holy light flickering weakly around her wounds. Her sword lay a few inches from her trembling fingers. She glared at him—not with defiance, but **with recognition**.
Draven's crimson eye fixed on Kaela. Every other sound, every other threat, faded into a distant hum. There was only her. Only the kill he had sworn to make.
Elliana mirrored his intent, coiling shadows around her daggers as she faced Cedric. Lightning arced along his blade, but her movements were measured, efficient—pushing him back without a single wasted motion.
Draven's jaw tightened.
*Tch… I don't have time for this shit.*
His gaze cut past them—just for an instant.
To the barrier.
To Kaela.
To the holy light still crawling over her neck.
*I need to finish her. Now. Before she recovers.*
His teeth ground together.
*I can't let her stand back up. Not after that cut. Not after everything it took to put her down.*
He shifted his weight, muscles tightening, preparing to burst—
—too slow.
The **second captain moved first**.
She didn't announce herself. Didn't shout. Didn't hesitate.
She **vanished**.
Then she was there.
Right in front of him.
Her blades crossed in a scissoring arc aimed straight for his throat.
Draven's eyes widened a fraction.
"—!"
He leaned back hard, spine bending almost unnaturally as steel screamed past inches from his face. Wind ripped through his hair as the strike missed by a hair's breadth—
—but she didn't stop.
Her **other blade** came down immediately, vertical, brutal, aimed to split his skull.
Draven snapped sideways, shadows tearing at his boots as he twisted out of line. The blade smashed into the ground where his head had been, dirt and stone exploding upward.
He didn't wait.
His foot slammed down, muscles coiling—
—and he **lunged**.
Straight through her.
Slipping inside her guard, shoulder brushing her armor as he burst past, already turning, already aiming—
*Barrier. Kaela. Now—*
Steel screamed.
From the corner of his vision, a blade cut in—fast, precise, lethal.
The **first captain**.
Draven's eyes narrowed.
"Shit—"
His hands moved on instinct.
Gloved fist snapped up.
Dagger followed.
**CLANG—!**
Metal shrieked as his glove caught the flat of the blade and his dagger jammed in behind it, locking the strike inches from his ribs. The impact jolted up his arm, bones screaming, but he held.
The captain leaned in, strength driving forward, trying to crush through his guard.
Draven bared his teeth.
"Out of my way."
He twisted sharply, redirecting the force, then **kicked**.
His boot slammed into the captain's knee with a savage crack. The joint buckled, armor denting inward as the captain staggered half a step.
Draven ripped free and surged forward again—
—and the second captain was already there.
She pivoted on one heel, spinning into a low, sweeping cut meant to take his legs out from under him.
Draven **jumped**.
Barely.
The blade skimmed under his boots, sparks tearing up from the ground as he flipped over it. He landed in a crouch, dirt snapping tight around him, momentum coiling—
—and both captains closed in.
Together.
Perfect timing.
Left.
Right.
High.
Low.
A killing box.
Draven's jaw clenched.
*Damn it—!*
He ducked under the first strike, twisted through the second, felt steel kiss his coat, felt wind rip past his neck. He rolled, came up, blocked one blade with his dagger, another with his forearm guard, sparks exploding in his face.
No space.
No room.
No time.
They were **on him**.
Pressing.
Driving.
Relentless.
Draven slid back, boots carving trenches in the dirt as he deflected another flurry. His breathing grew harsher, blood dripping from his knuckles, muscles burning.
And still—
His eyes kept flicking past them.
To the barrier.
To Kaela.
To the holy glow that was getting **brighter**.
His lip curled.
*Tch… you're really going to make me do this the hard way, aren't you?*
The second captain lunged again, blades flashing.
Draven didn't retreat.
He **charged**.
He slipped inside her strike, shoulder slamming into her chest with brutal force, knocking the wind from her lungs. She stumbled back—
—and the first captain was there.
Blade coming down.
Draven twisted, letting it scrape his shoulder instead of his neck, pain flaring hot and sharp. He didn't slow.
He spun.
Elbow.
Knee.
Dagger.
A vicious three-hit sequence.
The captain blocked the dagger, but the elbow slammed into his jaw, snapping his head back. The knee drove into his gut, armor denting inward as he staggered.
Draven didn't follow.
He **broke away**.
Wind tore after him as he exploded forward, finally slipping past them—
finally aiming for the barrier—
for Kaela—
for the kill—
—and the second captain recovered faster than expected.
"—Not so fast!"
She hurled a blade.
Draven twisted mid-stride, the dagger slicing through the air where his spine had been. He landed, skidded, shadows flaring as he redirected—
—but it cost him.
Just a fraction.
The first captain was already there.
Blade rising.
Draven's eyes widened.
Hands snapped up again—
Glove.
Dagger.
**CLANG—!**
The impact rocked him backward, boots digging in as sparks and holy light sprayed between them. His arm screamed. His grip tightened.
He growled low, furious, eyes burning.
"Get. The. **Fuck.** Out of my way."
The captains didn't answer.
They just pressed harder.
And behind them—
The holy light around Kaela continued to build.
Draven felt it.
And something dark and vicious twisted in his chest.
*I don't have time for this.*
*I don't have patience for this.*
*And I sure as hell am not letting her get back up.*
The shadows around his feet **coiled**, restless, hungry.
His grin was slow.
Sharp.
Unhinged.
"Fine," he muttered.
"Then I'll just go **through** you."
Draven forced himself to **stop**.
Just for a heartbeat.
He drew in a sharp breath through his nose—deep, controlled, filling his lungs until his chest burned. Held it.
Then exhaled slowly through his mouth.
And the world **fell silent**.
Not literally—but to him, it might as well have.
The clash of steel.
The crack of lightning.
The roar of holy mana.
All of it faded.
His crimson eye sharpened, pupils narrowing as the battlefield **flattened** in his mind.
The captains.
Their stances.
The spacing between their feet.
The angle of their shoulders.
Kaela.
Bleeding.
Behind the cracked barrier.
Holy light crawling over her wound.
Elira.
Staff raised.
Channeling.
*Too many pieces,* he thought coldly. *Not enough time.*
His gaze flicked between them—captains, Kaela, Elira—measuring, calculating, discarding.
Then he chose.
Draven leaned forward.
Not into a sprint.
Not into a charge.
He let himself **fall**.
The captains' eyes narrowed, confused, watching as his posture collapsed inward, shoulders dipping, body lowering.
"What—" one of them started.
Draven's knees bent.
His body compressed.
And then—
He **launched**.
The ground **exploded** beneath his feet.
Dirt snapped tight around his legs as he vanished from where he stood, stone and soil blasting outward in a violent shockwave.
The captains spun—
Too slow.
Draven reappeared **directly in front of the second captain**.
Point blank.
Her eyes widened.
"—!?"
She barely had time to raise her blades before he was already moving.
Draven didn't swing wide.
Didn't telegraph.
His dagger drove forward in a vicious, compact thrust aimed straight for her throat, shadows compressing around the blade like a guillotine.
She jerked back on instinct, the tip grazing her collar instead of piercing it, sparks screaming as steel scraped armor.
Draven was already inside her guard.
Too close.
His shoulder **slammed** into her chest with brutal force, lifting her off her feet. The impact knocked the breath from her lungs in a sharp, broken gasp as she was hurled backward.
He followed.
Relentless.
His fist snapped up, hammering into her jaw mid-air.
**CRACK.**
Her head whipped sideways, blood spraying as she hit the ground hard, skidding through dirt and leaves.
Draven didn't stop.
He was on her before she could recover, boot crashing down—
She rolled.
Barely.
The heel smashed into the ground where her ribs had been, earth caving in.
She scrambled, blades coming up—
Draven **kicked** one aside, the dagger flying from her grip. He grabbed her wrist with his gloved hand and twisted savagely.
Bone **crunched**.
She screamed.
Draven leaned in, face inches from hers, crimson eye burning.
"Stay down," he growled.
He released her and **spun**—
Because he felt it.
The first captain.
Already attacking.
Blade screaming in from the side.
Draven twisted, the edge slicing across his back instead of through it, pain flaring white-hot. He snarled, pivoted, and drove his elbow into the captain's throat.
The impact staggered him.
Draven followed with a knee to the gut, folding him inward, then a brutal upward punch that snapped his head back.
He shoved him away hard, sending him stumbling several steps.
Draven didn't chase.
He turned.
Eyes already locking back onto the barrier.
Onto Kaela.
Onto the **real target**.
Blood dripped from his knuckles.
Breath heavy.
Body screaming.
Still moving.
Always moving.
"Fuck off," he muttered.
And he surged forward again.