Draven **moved**.
Not because he wanted to.
Because stopping meant dying.
Every muscle screamed as he lunged forward, shadows snapping tight around his legs, dagger flashing in brutal arcs. Pain tore through his shattered arm, his ribs, his leg—like his body was being **ripped apart from the inside**.
*Damn it… damn it… damn it—*
His breath came in harsh, burning pulls. Blood slicked his side, dripped from his fingers, soaked into the dirt with every step.
*If I keep fighting like this, I'm dead.*
He knew it.
They all did.
The captains pressed harder, sensing it. The knights closed in, tightening the ring. Cedric and Elliana were locked in a vicious exchange, lightning and shadow colliding again and again.
And somewhere behind—
*That mage…*
Draven's eye flicked toward the treeline where Elira stood, staff glowing, light gathering.
*If she steps in… this turns ugly. Fast.*
His jaw clenched.
*We can't stay. We can't win a siege.*
He dodged a slash, twisted past another, kicked one captain back—and felt the other blade scrape his shoulder, tearing flesh. He hissed but didn't slow.
*I need an opening.*
Not to win.
To **escape**.
For him.
For his mother.
That was it.
That was the only goal left.
And then—
His gaze slid to Kaela's body.
Still on the ground.
Still bleeding.
Still very, very dead.
A dark idea sparked.
His lip curled.
*…Fine.*
He let his shoulders sag—just a fraction.
Let his steps slow—just a fraction.
Let his breathing sound heavier.
Weaker.
The second captain noticed immediately.
Her eyes flared.
"He's faltering!" she shouted. "He's breaking—!"
Draven looked up.
And smiled.
Wide.
Sharp.
Feral.
"Yeah?" he rasped, blood running down his chin. "Your commander thought that too."
The words hit.
Hard.
Both captains stiffened.
The knights hesitated.
Cedric's head snapped around, eyes blazing.
"You—!"
Draven didn't give them time.
He raised his voice, raw and mocking, letting it carry across the battlefield.
"She charged. She screamed. She swore I'd fall."
His grin twisted.
"And now she's bleeding into the dirt."
The captains **snapped**.
Rage detonated across their faces, discipline cracking like glass.
"You—BASTARD!" the first captain roared.
They came at him.
Not measured.
Not coordinated.
**Reckless.**
Exactly as he wanted.
The first captain charged head-on, blade raised high.
The second followed a half-step behind, flanking wide, overcommitting.
Draven's eye burned.
*There.*
He slid his foot back.
Lowered his center.
And **moved**.
He sidestepped the first captain at the last possible instant, letting her blade crash down where he had been. Dirt and stone exploded upward.
He **hooked** her wrist with his dagger hand and yanked, using her own momentum to hurl her past him.
She stumbled.
Off balance.
The second captain lunged in to capitalize—
Draven pivoted.
His elbow drove into her throat with savage force.
**CRACK.**
She gagged, stumbling back, hands flying to her neck.
Draven didn't stop.
He spun, slammed his boot into her knee.
Bone popped.
She went down with a scream.
The first captain was already turning, wild, furious, blade swinging in a wide, uncontrolled arc.
Draven ducked under it and **headbutted** her.
The impact rang.
Her head snapped back.
He grabbed her armor and **threw** her into the second captain.
They crashed together, hitting the ground in a tangle of limbs and steel.
Draven didn't finish them.
He didn't need to.
He turned.
Dirt exploded around his legs as he **sprinted**.
Straight toward Elliana.
Toward Cedric.
Toward the only gap that mattered.
"Mom!" he snarled. "Now!"
Elliana heard him.
She reacted instantly.
She twisted under Cedric's strike, dagger scraping along his blade as she kicked off his chest and flipped back, landing hard beside Draven.
Cedric roared, lightning flaring as he tried to pursue—
—but the knights surged.
Draven skidded to Elliana's side, grabbed her wrist, and **yanked**.
"Move!" he snapped.
The shadows **erupted**.
Not an explosion.
A flood.
They surged outward, swallowing the ground, coiling around their legs, tearing at visibility, blinding, choking, smothering.
Knights shouted.
Blades rang.
Orders were screamed.
Cedric lunged through the darkness—
Too late.
Draven and Elliana were already moving, shadows wrapping around them, bodies blurring as they tore through the only opening he had forced.
Draven's breath was ragged.
His vision swam.
Every step was agony.
But he didn't slow.
Couldn't.
Because behind them—
He felt it.
Holy light surging.
Lightning roaring.
Voices shouting.
The battlefield was erupting.
And the mage—
The mage was about to join.
Draven bared his teeth as they burst into the treeline, shadows swallowing them whole.
"Don't look back," he growled to Elliana. "Not now. Not ever."
The forest closed around them.
And the hunt had begun.
---
The air **warped**.
Draven felt it before he saw it.
A prickle along his spine.
A pressure change.
A wrongness.
"—Tch."
Golden **magic circles** flared into existence around them, one after another, layered and rotating, runes burning bright. The light cut through the shadows like knives.
They bloomed like burning halos, intricate sigils spinning, radiating oppressive holy force.
Draven's jaw tightened.
"Ah… you've gotta be fucking kidding me."
The circles **flared**.
And from them—
**Chains.**
Not falling.
Not drifting.
They **shot out**—fast, precise, alive.
Gold links screaming through the air like living things, tearing toward him from every angle.
Draven's eye widened.
"Shit—!"
He moved instantly.
Dagger flashed.
Shadows snapped.
He **cut** the first chain mid-flight, sparks bursting as the enchanted metal shattered. He twisted, ducked under another, felt one whip past his ear close enough to tug his hair.
Knights surged in at the same time, blades flashing, using the chains to herd him.
*Damn it— they're boxing us in!*
He parried a sword, kicked a knight back, spun and severed another chain—but there were too many. The magic circles kept **spawning** them, golden light pulsing as more links launched.
Elliana fought through the edge of it, shadows tearing at the chains, daggers flashing—but they were separating.
"Stay close," she snapped.
The knights pressed harder.
Draven leapt back, rolled under a sweeping blade, came up—
Another came high.
He ducked.
Steel rang as he cut one mid-flight, sparks exploding against his face. He rolled, came up, slashed again—
—but the **knights were pressing**.
They advanced behind the chains, shields up, blades thrusting, herding him, denying space. Every dodge put him closer to another knight. Every cut boxed him in further.
"Damn it—!"
A blade stabbed in from the left—he parried.
A chain snapped from the right—he twisted.
Another chain came from behind—
He felt it.
Too late.
It **wrapped around his wrist**.
Tight.
Burning.
Holy light flared as the chain coiled viciously around his arm, searing into flesh. Draven's eyes widened.
"—Shit!"
He yanked, muscles screaming, but the chain only tightened, biting in harder, golden light digging into skin and bone. His regeneration stuttered under the holy pressure.
His teeth clenched.
"Damn it…!"
Another chain shot toward his throat.
Draven reacted instantly.
He **released** the dagger in his trapped hand and snapped his other hand up, catching the chain mid-air and twisting, redirecting it past his face.
He switched grips in the same motion, dagger now in his free hand, stance shifting without pause.
The knights surged.
A shield slammed toward his chest—he rolled with it, letting it shove him sideways instead of crushing him. A blade cut down—he blocked, sparks spraying.
The chain yanked.
Hard.
It tore him off balance, dragging his arm sideways with brutal force.
Draven snarled, boots skidding as he was pulled half a step toward the glowing circles. More chains were forming, writhing, hungry.
*Bastards trying to bind me…*
*Pin me.*
*Finish me.*
His breathing was heavier now, chest rising and falling hard, sweat and blood mixing along his jaw. His crimson eye flicked up, calculating rapidly.
Knights in front.
Chains closing.
Captains resetting.
And behind him—
Lightning.
Steel.
Elliana and Cedric still locked in violent combat, sparks and electricity detonating with every clash.
Draven clicked his tongue.
"Really…?" he muttered. "You bastards are damn exhausting."
The chain yanked again, pulling his arm higher, forcing his shoulder to strain.
He didn't fight it.
He **used it**.
He stepped into the pull, letting it drag him forward—and then suddenly **cut sideways**, twisting his body and slamming his shoulder into the nearest knight. The impact knocked the knight off balance, shield tilting.
Draven followed instantly, dagger flashing up and **driving into the gap under the knight's arm**.
The knight gasped and dropped.
Draven ripped the blade free as another chain snapped toward his legs.
He jumped.
Barely.
It wrapped around his calf instead, burning, tightening.
"—Tch!"
Now two points of restraint.
His movements slowed.
Just a fraction.
But in a fight like this—
A fraction was deadly.
The captains saw it.
Their eyes sharpened.
They moved.
Together.