Shadowvale Tavern was a den of shadows and smoke—a place where murderers, thieves, and exiled deviants drank away their sins. The scent of spilled ale and burnt cigarettes clung to the air like a curse.
When William, son of Duke Ardan, stepped through the creaking wooden door, the room fell into a hushed tension. Cloaked in black, his face obscured beneath a hood, he moved with quiet authority, flanked by two equally shrouded guards. All eyes shifted toward them, hands instinctively drifting toward blades and bottles.
William scanned the room with the calm detachment of someone used to being obeyed. His gaze landed on a shadowy booth tucked in the far corner of the tavern. Three figures sat there like vultures circling a corpse—The Black Verge, the most feared bounty hunters on the continent. Legends claimed they once razed an entire village just to kill a single man. No one dared cross them.
William approached their table and stood tall."I'm William, son of Duke Ardan," he said coldly.
The figure on the left looked up—a ragged man with hollow eyes and greasy black strands of hair hanging like dead vines. His voice rasped like sandpaper on steel."We know who you are."
William nodded. "Then perhaps I should know who I'm speaking to."
The man gave a humorless smirk."Grimraith."
Next to him, a wiry man with wild brown hair and darting eyes let out a breathy laugh."Scruffy, haha. Pleasure, my lord. Haha!" He chuckled after every word, a sound that made even the bravest feel uneasy.
The third figure leaned forward—a towering woman with a body like a war machine. Scars crisscrossed her face and arms, each one a violent memory. Her voice rumbled like distant thunder."I assume you're not here for drinks."
"I want someone found. And someone else dead," William replied without flinching.
The woman narrowed her eyes. "This smells like politics. We don't do politics."
"I'll pay whatever price you ask," William said. "Double for bringing them in alive."
The woman's lips curled into a grin."Deal. I'm Grenda. We're at your service."
William allowed himself a small smirk. "Very well."
He pulled a scroll from his cloak and unfurled it on the table. Four sketches stared back: Blake, Malrek, Javier, and Drayce.
"This is your target," he said. Then he placed a heavy pouch of coins beside the drawings. "You get the rest when the job is done."
Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked away, his cloak trailing behind him like a shadow in the smoke.
The tavern doors creaked shut behind William, the faint clink of his guards' armor fading into the fog outside. The moment he was gone, the booth grew heavier with silence.
Scruffy was the first to speak, letting out a high-pitched laugh that turned a few nearby heads."Haha! Nobles always walk like they've got steel rods up their backs. Haha! But this one's serious. Real serious."
Grenda didn't laugh. Her eyes were locked on the sketches, thick fingers tracing over Blake's face."Four deviants. One of 'em's just a kid." Her voice was thoughtful, but not soft. She was talking about Drayce, "This one…" She tapped Malrek's image. "He's dangerous. I've seen him before. His soulbrand's no joke."
Grimraith didn't blink. His eyes were locked on the image of Blake."He's the one who killed the dragon girl," he said. "Or at least the rumors say so."
Scruffy leaned in, a greasy smile stretched across his face."Haha! Imagine that! Some white-haired runt with a sword and a death wish! Haha!"
Grenda's grin widened, but there was no humor in it."I like them already."
Grimraith slid the bag of coins into his cloak without a word, then folded the sketches and tucked them neatly into a leather pouch.
"Alive if we can. Dead if we must," he said flatly.
Grenda cracked her knuckles."Let's make it quick. The longer we wait, the deeper they run. We split up, track them, and circle in."
Scruffy giggled again."Haha! We hunting wolves now, are we? Four wolves in the woods. Haha!"
Grimraith stood up slowly, pulling the hood over his face."No. Not wolves."He paused at the edge of the booth."Ghosts. And I'm going to enjoy making them bleed."
The three of them vanished into the smoke of Shadowvale, leaving only the echo of laughter, the faint scent of bloodlust, and the cold promise of pursuit.
Black Halo Hideout — Training Yard
The sound of blades clashing rang out in the quiet clearing behind the mansion. It was morning, and the forest mist hadn't yet lifted, curling like ghosts around the trees. A small open space had been cleared out for training—a patch of dirt, some worn wooden dummies, and an old iron rack where weapons were stacked in organized rows.
Blake's sword clanged hard against Javier's, both boys locked in a flurry of steel and sweat.
"Oi, white hair—" Javier grunted as their blades slid past each other, "you still thinking about those posters? Keep your head in the fight or I'll knock it off."
Blake narrowed his eyes, twisting his blade free and sidestepping."I'm not worried about posters," he muttered, "I'm worried about what's coming next."
Nearby, Drayce stood alone before a scorched dummy. His breathing was calm, steady, but his eyes were burning. He exhaled slowly—and the dummy burst into black fire.
"Abysspyre," he whispered, lowering his gaze. "Still not enough."
Selene sat on the edge of the fence, arms crossed. She was still bandaged, not yet fully recovered from her transformation, but her golden eyes followed Blake with quiet focus. There was guilt in her stare, and admiration.
Lora stood next to her, silently observing everyone."They've all changed," she said to herself."They've all grown sharper."
Malrek stood off to the side with Mirai, both watching the sparring matches. He had his arms crossed, a cocky smirk painted across his face."Not bad for fugitives," he said."But we'll need more than flashy sword swings and moody fire tricks to survive what's coming."
Mirai gave a small nod."Do you feel it too?" she asked."Like… something's watching us?"
Malrek's smile faded a bit.
"Not something," he said quietly. "Someone. And they're coming soon."
The morning sparring had broken into smaller duels, the group naturally splitting off. Clouds drifted across the sky, casting cool shadows over the yard. The wind had picked up slightly, rustling the leaves and cooling sweat-slicked skin.
Selene stepped into the ring, facing Blake. She wore a black training tunic, her long golden hair tied back in a loose braid. A wooden training sword rested in her hand, lighter than a real blade but deadly in skilled hands.
Blake stretched his arms, then rolled his shoulder, testing the weight of his own practice weapon.
"Ready?" she asked, a hesitant smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
Blake nodded, stance shifting low. "Don't hold back."
Their swords clashed in the center. Blake moved like flowing water, refined and balanced. Selene matched him step for step—no bursts of wild draconic power, only skill and instinct. It was like a dance: slash, block, pivot, strike.
"You're fast," she said between breaths.
"You're better than I expected," he replied, eyes sharp but voice soft."And you don't need to apologize every time we cross swords. I'm not going to break."
She stopped, lowering her blade slightly."You really don't blame me… for what happened?"
Blake hesitated, then stepped forward."I blame your father. I blame the people who locked you in a cage and called it protection." He paused."But not you."
Her eyes widened slightly. Then she raised her sword again, nodding."Then stop going easy on me, Blake."
He smiled."Finally."
Across the Yard — Malrek vs. Javier
On the other end of the training yard, Malrek spun a pair of curved daggers in his hands, a smug grin across his face. Javier twirled his own twin short swords, shoulders rolling.
"You sure you wanna do this, oi?" Javier smirked."Wouldn't want the great Malrek crying in front of his students."
Malrek let out a dry chuckle."Please. You're about to get a front-row seat to what a real deviant looks like."
The clash was explosive.
Javier dashed in low, unpredictable and chaotic, while Malrek danced around him, always just out of reach—until he wasn't. Blades sparked. Kicks and counters flew. At one point, Malrek even teleported a small rock mid-swing to block a strike.
"You cheating bastard!" Javier barked, laughing.
"Creative bastard," Malrek corrected with a wink, slamming Javier's sword to the side and tapping his dagger against his neck."Dead again, white hair's friend."
Javier panted, then laughed breathlessly."Next time, no Soulbrand. Then we'll see who's dead."
Malrek stepped back and offered a hand."Deal. But you'll still lose."
From the center of the yard, Lora watched all of them, her expression unreadable.
Julie walked up beside her, a basket of herbs in hand."They're getting stronger," she said.
Lora nodded slowly."They'll have to be."
– Late Evening
The training grounds had gone quiet. The others had gone inside. Only Blake and Malrek remained, sitting on the edge of the stone well under the stars, their weapons laid aside.
A cool wind passed through the trees, rustling the leaves like whispers in the dark.
Blake turned toward Malrek, his voice low."Can I ask you something? It's been on my mind for a while now."
Malrek tilted his head."Go ahead."
Blake gave a small huff."Back then… when you found me in that cave. You've always said it was luck. A coincidence."He looked at Malrek with eyes full of quiet intensity."But that's not the truth, is it?"
Malrek looked away. The silence that followed was heavier than any answer. He leaned back, resting his elbows behind him on the stone.
"Does it matter?"
"It does to me."
A long pause.
Then finally, with a sigh, Malrek nodded.
"You're right. It wasn't chance."
Blake sat up straighter, his heart beginning to race.
"So… what was it then?"
Malrek turned his masked face toward him, and for the first time, his voice carried a hint of something quieter. Almost reverent.
"I was sent. By someone I trust more than anyone alive."
Blake's brow furrowed."Who?"
Malrek hesitated again. Then answered.
"Caelum."
Blake blinked. He stared at Malrek with shocked eyes."Caelum? You mean...my brother?"
Malrek gave a nod."Yes. He and I… we go way back. He told me to find you. Said there was someone important rotting away in a cave in the forest."
Blake was stunned.
"Why? Why would he do that? Why wouldn't he come himself?"
Malrek opened his mouth to explain—
—but suddenly, the ground trembled.
A loud crash echoed through the hideout as the front door was blasted open. Shouts. Screams. Steel clashing.
Blake and Malrek were on their feet in an instant. From across the yard, Javier's voice rang out—
"We've got company!"
Selene, Lora, Mirai, Drayce, and Tonza poured out from the main hall, weapons drawn, faces alert.
Dozens of armed mercenaries in dark armor stormed through the breach, yelling battle cries. Their movements were too coordinated for common thugs.
Malrek's eyes narrowed.
"We'll finish this conversation later," he said, summoning his twin daggers.
Blake stood beside him, sword drawn.
"Let's make sure there's a 'later.'"
They then ran into the fray.