For the first time since they appeared, footsteps were audible.
Not floating.
Not slipping like smoke.
Slow steps.
Deliberate.
Chains dragged across the concrete floor, producing a long, scraping sound that sent a shiver down Raven's spine. Each clang echoed through the warehouse, heavy and tangible.
The two remaining lower spirits immediately retreated.
There was no scream.
There was no resistance.
As soon as the aura approached, both turned and fled without a glance—there was no loyalty between them. Only pure fear.
The figure advanced.
Alpha stopped about ten meters from Raven.
Only now did Raven truly realize the difference.
Alpha's body was far more solid than the lower spirits'. Almost physical. He was about three meters tall, broad-shouldered, with overly long arms hanging at his sides. A crown of bone fused to his head—not an ornament, but part of the skull itself.
Chains wrapped around his torso, arms, and legs.
Not shackles.
But armor.
Its eyes weren't the red-and-white glow of other spirits.
They were real eyes.
Plain white as marble, pupilless, dead—yet staring with a cold, calculating intelligence.
Its mouth was open.
Its jaw was unhinged, beyond any anatomical limits.
And when the voice came out, Raven knew immediately—this was different.
Not a muffled whisper.
Not the echo of many voices.
Just one voice.
Deep. Heavy. Resonant.
"Impressive," he said. "For a newborn hybrid."
Raven tensed.
He could speak clearly.
This wasn't a lesser spirit driven by mere instinct. This was a conscious being—one that thought.
"You wiped out my pack with ease," the Alpha continued. "A power beyond belief."
He took a step forward.
The concrete floor cracked beneath his feet.
Unlike lesser spirits who barely touched the physical world—this creature had mass. Heavy. Real.
"But now…"
The chains on his body trembled, then tightened, coiling tighter as if responding to their own will.
"…I wonder."
His eyes fixed on Raven unblinkingly.
"How strong are you, really?"
The Alpha vanished.
Not gliding like a shadow.
Not floating.
he ran.
His feet pounded against the concrete, each step producing a heavy thud. His speed was impossible for a body of his size.
Ten meters were covered in less than a second.
"RAVEN—!" Azaelith's voice rang in his head.
Too late.
Raven only had time to react instinctively. he threw herself to the side, rolling violently as—
BOOM.
Alpha's giant fist slammed into the spot where he had been standing a split second before.
The concrete exploded.
Cracks spread like a spiderweb. Shards of floorboards flew in all directions, crashing into the warehouse walls with a loud thud.
Dust filled the air.
Raven tumbled several meters, gasping for breath, his heart pounding in his chest.
One thing was now clear—
This was no ordinary fight.
This was a test of life and death.
Raven rolled, trying to get up—
too late.
The Alpha was already there.
The next attack came without warning. A backhand swing, fast and vicious.
The impact smashed into Raven's ribs.
It felt like being hit by a car.
His body was lifted off the floor, flung across the warehouse before hitting a metal shelf with a deafening thud. The old structure collapsed on top of her, metal twisting and boxes falling, burying her.
Pain exploded through his body.
His ribs were cracked—probably broken. His breathing stopped for a moment, his lungs screaming with each gasp. His healing factor kicked in, a faint heat spreading through his body, but too slowly. The damage was too severe.
His vision blurred.
His mouth tasted salty—blood.
Inside his head, Azaelith's voice screamed, no longer controlled.
"GET UP! MOVE! IT'S NOT FINISHED!"
Raven forced his eyes open.
Through the gaps in the twisted metal shelves, he saw Alpha approaching. No more rushing. There was no need. His steps were now slow, confident. The chains on his body dragged across the concrete, leaving long scratches in the floor.
"Just like that?" Alpha's voice echoed, flat and cold. "Disappointing."
Raven tried to raise his hand.
Demon Fire—nothing.
Empty.
His stamina was completely depleted.
he tried to trigger Demon Step. The mark on his back throbbed painfully, like a wound being forced open—but there was no response. Too much pressure. Too fast.
His system was overloaded.
All he had left was her physical strength—about five times that of a normal human.
Fight Alpha?
Not enough.
Alpha reached the metal shelf, gripping the twisted metal with one hand. Easily—too easily—he lifted the entire structure, Raven still trapped within, and tossed it aside like it was nothing but paper.
Raven's body tumbled out and hit the floor.
Hardly.
he lay motionless, each breath like a knife stabbing into her chest. The world began to darken at the edges of her vision.
The Alpha stood over him.
His shadow swallowed Raven whole.
The giant fist rose—solid, tangible, enough to crush his skull like a grape.
"Farewell, hybrid."
The fist descended.
Raven looked up.
Too exhausted to move.
Too broken to dodge.
So this is the end?
Training one day and death the next?
Pathetic.
But—
at the last second—
the fist stopped.
Just centimeters from Raven's face.
The Alpha fell silent.
His head tilted slightly, as if listening for something—or sensing something.
Then, without warning, he backed away.
"Hmm. Interesting," he murmured. "Looks like your time hasn't come yet."
His body began to fade. Not running. Not escaping.
Gone.
The chains rattled more slowly, his form becoming transparent, merging again with the shadows of the warehouse.
"We will meet again, hybrid," he said, his voice growing distant. "When you are stronger."
There was a cold note of satisfaction in his voice.
"I will enjoy breaking you later."
And the Alpha vanished.
The warehouse was silent again, except for the sound of the night wind seeping through the broken windows.
Raven finally gave up.
His body fell completely, his gaze blankly piercing the cracked ceiling. His breath came in gasps, pain radiating to every corner of his being.
"Azaelith…" he whispered, his voice barely audible. "…why did he leave?"
A faint red glow appeared at his side.
Azaelith manifested, kneeling beside him. Her translucent hand hovered over Raven's chest, her expression filled for the first time with concern—real, unmasked.
"I don't know," Azaelith admitted—and that alone was terrifying.Because Azaelith always knew.
Her gaze lingered on the darkness beyond the warehouse walls, sharp yet unsettled. "Maybe it sensed something," she continued slowly. "Something approaching."
Raven frowned weakly. "Something that scared even an Alpha ghost?"
Azaelith didn't answer right away.
That silence was answer enough.
Raven closed his eyes. His body felt impossibly heavy now, every nerve screaming in protest. He was too exhausted to process fear, too drained to care about what might come next.
"Rest," Azaelith whispered.
Her voice was softer than he had ever heard it before—gentler, almost protective. "Heal. You've pushed yourself far enough for one day."
She paused, as if weighing her next words.
"Tomorrow…""…tomorrow we'll figure this out."
Raven's consciousness began to slip, the edges of the world blurring as exhaustion finally claimed him.
The last thing he sensed—through fading awareness—was energy.
Distant.
Multiple signatures.
Strong.
Moving steadily toward the warehouse.
Then—
nothing.