Draven's muscles tensed.
Countless strands of mana surged through his body.
Every tendon.
Every muscle fiber.
Every bone.
His physical reinforcement reached its absolute limit.
**BOOM!!**
The ground exploded beneath his feet.
He became a crimson blur, racing through the shattered forest.
Behind him—
the emerald arrows pursued relentlessly.
They curved effortlessly through the trees without losing speed.
Splitting ancient trunks.
Shattering massive boulders.
Nothing escaped their pursuit.
Straight ahead—
Aldric frowned.
"...The hell are you doing?"
Draven didn't answer.
He continued charging directly toward him.
The distance between them rapidly vanished.
Aldric's eyes narrowed.
"...Alright."
"...You'd better have a plan."
Crimson mana erupted around the massive poleaxe.
Ancient blood runes blazed across its surface.
Without the slightest hesitation—
he swung.
**BOOOOOOM!!**
The colossal blade tore sideways through the air.
A crimson arc erupted outward—
vast enough to swallow everything before it.
Draven never slowed.
He continued sprinting directly toward the incoming strike.
Thirty meters.
Twenty.
Ten.
Five.
The crimson blade was almost upon him.
"...Idiot!"
Aldric cursed.
"...MOVE!"
Only then—
at the very last instant—
Draven vanished.
His foot twisted violently against the broken earth.
**BOOM!!**
His body slipped sideways by less than a single meter.
The enormous poleaxe swept past his chest—
close enough that the violent pressure alone shredded what remained of his coat.
The instant he cleared its path—
the pursuing arrows arrived.
Aldric's pupils contracted.
"...You little bastard—"
The poleaxe met the rain of emerald arrows.
**BOOOOOOOOOOM!!**
The night erupted.
Crimson and emerald mana collided head-on.
The resulting shockwave flattened everything nearby.
Ancient trees were torn from the earth.
The ground split apart.
One emerald arrow shattered.
Then another.
A third.
A fourth.
The massive poleaxe carved through several of them—
before the remaining arrows slammed into the crimson slash.
Explosion after explosion echoed throughout the forest.
The sky itself trembled beneath the relentless barrage.
Amid the blinding light—
Draven was already moving again.
He never looked back.
His crimson eyes remained locked upon the elf high above.
Aldric emerged from the expanding cloud of dust, his boots carving deep trenches through the broken earth as he skidded backward.
His eyes twitched.
Then—
he barked out a laugh.
"...Sneaky little shit."
A grin slowly spread across his face.
"...That wiped out half his arrows."
He rested the massive poleaxe across one shoulder.
"...Next time..."
"...Say something, you damn brat."
High above—
the elf calmly watched the smoke settle.
His expression remained unreadable.
But for the first time—
his gaze lingered on Aldric for a heartbeat longer than before.
Then—
it returned to Draven.
The air itself remained distorted from the countless collisions.
Within the cloud—
a crimson flash appeared.
Then another.
**CLANG!!**
**BOOM!!**
**CLANG!!**
**BOOM!!**
Black steel met emerald wind again and again.
Each swing detonated another wind arrow that continued to pursue him.
Shockwaves rippled through the smoke.
Splintered wood.
Shattered stone.
Fragments of earth.
Everything was hurled violently in every direction.
A heartbeat later—
Draven emerged.
His breathing remained steady.
Fresh blood stained his clothes.
Several deep wounds covered his body.
One slashed across his shoulder.
Another pierced through his side.
A third carved into his thigh.
Yet—
before the blood could even begin to flow—
the flesh was already knitting itself back together.
Muscle.
Veins.
Skin.
Each layer regenerated before the naked eye.
Within moments—
only torn clothing remained as evidence that he had ever been wounded.
His black blade rested firmly in his right hand.
His bow remained gripped tightly in his left.
His crimson eyes never left the elf standing high above.
Silence.
Then—
his voice echoed throughout the shattered forest.
"...Stop fucking around."
He slowly raised the tip of his blade—
pointing it directly at the elf.
"...And bring your ass down."
High above—
the elf looked down at him.
His expression remained perfectly calm.
Beside him—
the emerald spirit smiled faintly.
"...Lunaria."
She tilted her head ever so slightly.
"...The child is calling for you."
Her emerald eyes settled upon Draven.
"...Can you feel it?"
A faint smile tugged at the corner of her lips.
"...He truly wishes to kill you."
For the first time—
the elf spoke.
"...I know."
His golden eyes never left Draven.
A brief silence followed.
Then—
"...I wish the same."
The words carried no hatred.
No anger.
No killing intent.
It was as though he were merely stating an undeniable fact.
Then—
he stepped forward.
The surrounding wind gathered beneath his feet.
**WHOOSH!!**
He descended.
Not like a man falling—
but like a leaf carried gently upon the heart of a storm.
The emerald spirit followed silently at his side.
Below—
Aldric's grin slowly widened.
He rolled one shoulder.
The massive blood-red poleaxe spun once through the air before slamming into the earth.
**THUD!**
Crimson mana burst outward.
The ground beneath it fractured.
"...Alright."
He bared his fangs.
"...Come and die."
The forest fell silent.
No one moved.
Draven stood with sword and bow in hand.
Aldric stood beside him, one hand resting upon the shaft of his poleaxe.
Across from them—
Lunaria slowly touched the ground.
His boots settled upon the shattered earth without making the slightest sound.
The emerald spirit hovered quietly over his shoulder.
For several long seconds—
the four simply stared at one another.
Not a single word was spoken.
Only the wind drifted through the broken remains of the forest—
carrying ash, splintered leaves, and fading traces of crimson and emerald mana.
The battlefield itself seemed to hold its breath.
Then—