The ghoul's lips stretched wider.
Too wide.
A bloody, sharp-toothed grin split across his face as laughter bubbled from his throat.
"I could say the same about you," he rasped. "You see someone being killed… you know what I am… and yet you're still here."
His red eyes narrowed.
"So you must either be confident… or stupid."
Above them, Draven let out a quiet chuckle.
"Is that so?"
He stepped off the rooftop.
No rush.
No tension.
He dropped lightly to the ground, boots touching the cobblestone without a sound. His cloak settled behind him like a curtain falling into place.
The ghoul glanced him over slowly, tongue sliding across his bloodied teeth.
"I guess it's confidence," he said. "With just a little bit of stupidity."
He released the woman.
Her body collapsed to the ground, barely conscious, blood pooling beneath her shoulder.
The ghoul began walking toward Draven.
Slow at first.
Then faster.
Drool slid from the corner of his mouth as that manic grin returned.
"You just delivered me another meal."
The air shifted.
A pulse of mana rolled off him—dark, feral, and unstable.
The cobblestones beneath his feet cracked slightly as he lunged—
Fist swinging straight for Draven's head.
Draven didn't move at first.
He simply watched.
The punch came fast—
He tilted his head slightly.
The fist tore through empty air beside his face.
A second strike—
A backhand—
Draven leaned back just enough for it to miss by inches.
A third—
A savage downward blow—
He stepped aside smoothly.
Again.
And again.
Each swing was wild and violent, powerful enough to shatter bone—
And each one struck nothing but air.
Draven's expression didn't change.
No strain.
No urgency.
Just observation.
The ghoul snarled, movements growing more erratic. His claws scraped against the stone as he twisted and lunged.
"You think you're better than me?!"
Another punch—
Draven shifted his shoulder a fraction, letting it pass.
The ghoul's fist smashed into the wall behind him, bricks exploding outward.
Dust filled the alley.
Draven stood in the settling debris, untouched.
Calm red eyes fixed on the creature.
"Too slow," he said quietly.
The slime inside his hood rippled faintly.
The cat's purple eyes glowed brighter in the darkness.
The ghoul's grin twitched.
He attacked again.
Wild.
Feral.
Punch after punch.
Claw after claw.
Draven continued dodging, moving just enough to avoid each strike.
"You're running," the ghoul spat.
"No," Draven replied.
He slipped past another blow.
"I'm observing."
The ghoul roared and lunged.
Draven stepped aside.
The punch shattered brick.
"You can only dodge!" the ghoul snarled. "That's it, isn't it?!"
Draven tilted his head.
"That's an interesting conclusion."
Another strike came—
He avoided it.
"No."
He watched the ghoul closely.
"I was thinking."
The ghoul froze for a fraction of a second.
"Thinking about what?!"
Draven sidestepped another punch that cratered the ground.
"How to kill you," he answered evenly, "without getting your blood on me."
The ghoul laughed—manic and harsh.
"You think you can—"
Draven cut him off.
"I just finished cleaning up."
Another strike came.
He avoided it.
"And I would rather not ruin the effort."
The ghoul spun, eyes blazing.
"You arrogant—!"
Draven's gaze sharpened faintly.
"But I realized something."
He stopped moving.
Not completely.
But enough.
The ghoul lunged, fist pulling back for a full-force strike.
Draven's red eyes glinted in the dim alley light.
"I have something now," he said calmly, "that can clean up blood."
The slime beneath his hood shifted.
A slow, eager ripple.
The ghoul's punch descended—
This time—
Draven didn't dodge.
He moved.
Fast.
The moment the ghoul's fist came down, Draven stepped in instead of away—his hand snapping up and clamping around the attacking arm.
The impact cracked the ground beneath them.
Draven's fingers tightened.
"You should cooperate," he said calmly. "If you do, I'll kill you quickly."
For a split second—
The ghoul looked surprised.
Then he smiled again.
"Is that so?"
His other fist came swinging in from the side—
But this time it wasn't bare.
Earth hardened around it, forming a jagged, spear-like shell that extended into a brutal spike aimed directly at Draven's eye.
Draven's gaze flicked toward it.
"Rune magic," he murmured. "So you do have a rune."
The ghoul roared.
"Die!"
The earth-clad fist shot forward—
Draven's free arm snapped up.
He didn't dodge.
He slammed his forearm into the incoming strike.
The earth construct shattered on impact.
The ghoul's arm bent the wrong way.
A sickening crack echoed through the alley as bone twisted beneath torn flesh.
The limb hung useless, mangled beyond recognition.
Draven continued speaking as if discussing weather.
"But perhaps you should have chosen something other than earth."
The ghoul clenched his teeth, veins bulging—
Then—
The twisted arm began to straighten.
Bones realigned with grinding, wet sounds.
Flesh knit itself together.
Draven's eyes narrowed slightly.
"You can heal."
Before regeneration finished—
He pulled sharply.
There was a brutal tearing sound.
Draven ripped the ghoul's other hand clean off at the wrist.
Blood sprayed—
But before it could reach him—
The slime surged from beneath his cloak, absorbing the crimson midair.
"Glurp."
The severed hand dangled in Draven's grip.
The ghoul opened his mouth to scream—
Draven's palm clamped over it instantly.
Hard.
"Quiet," Draven said softly. "It is better if we do this quietly."
The ghoul struggled violently, but Draven did not move.
His red eyes flicked to the torn wrist.
The stump writhed.
Healing.
But slower now.
Draven glanced at the severed hand in his grip.
He crouched slightly and pressed it back against the stump.
He held it there.
Seconds passed.
Nothing happened.
The flesh did not reconnect.
Draven hummed lightly.
"It seems you can heal… but not regenerate."
He waited another moment.
Still nothing.
"And you cannot reattach either."
He released it.
The severed hand dropped to the ground.
The slime slid down and absorbed it with another satisfied sound.
"Glurp."
Draven removed his hand from the ghoul's mouth.
The creature staggered backward, clutching his ruined wrist. Fury and fear warred in his eyes.
Draven straightened.
He regarded the ghoul as one might regard an experiment.
"Now," he said calmly.
"I want you to try releasing your mana toward me."
The ghoul stared.
Confused.
Enraged.
Terrified.
Draven's red eyes glowed faintly in the dark alley.
"Go on."