The world had already erupted into motion, but Draven hadn't.
Not until the boy shouted.
"…SIR—!"
It cut through everything—clean, sharp, desperate.
Draven's head turned slowly.
"…There—!"
The boy's arm shot forward, pointing through the chaos, his voice tight with something raw. "…That's her—!"
For a fraction of a second, Draven's crimson eyes followed—and found her.
Blue-black hair. Wolf ears. A tail flicking sharply as she moved, cornered. And someone else was already on her.
Without hesitation, Draven moved.
The ground beneath him cracked, and he vanished.
Not fast—but instant.
He appeared in front of her as if he had always been there.
His hand shot forward, gripping her arm, pulling her out of the strike's path in one clean motion.
Her eyes widened. "…Wh—?!"
He didn't look at her. He turned, twisted, and his leg snapped outward.
The impact landed before the attacker could react.
A clean, brutal kick connected with the side of the attacker's head.
The sound—wet, heavy.
The attacker's body lifted off the ground, spun, and was launched across the field like dead weight. He hit the ground hard, rolled, and didn't get back up.
Silence held for a split second in that immediate space.
Draven lowered his leg, still holding the girl, and then released her.
"…Watch your surroundings," he said flatly. No concern, no softness—just fact.
Behind them, the boy arrived, breathing uneven, eyes locked on her.
"…S… sis…?"
The girl froze. Her ears twitched. Slowly, she turned—and saw him.
"…You—" Her words cut through the moment. "…Who the hell are you?"
No recognition, no hesitation. Just suspicion.
Draven didn't react. Didn't even look at her. Because the boy was already moving.
He passed her, didn't stop, didn't speak, didn't glance back. His eyes were locked on something else—someone else.
A smaller figure, standing still amidst the chaos, long gray hair flowing past her shoulders, long pointed ears, and eyes that widened slightly as the boy rushed forward.
"…Big sis—!"
He reached her in an instant, arms wrapping around her tightly, like letting go wasn't an option anymore.
"I found you… you're alive…" His voice cracked slightly. "…You're really alive…"
The girl stiffened in surprise. Her body went rigid for half a second. Then slowly, her eyes softened.
"…Lucien…?" The name left her lips quietly, almost disbelieving.
She pulled back just enough to look at him—really look at him. And then relief: clear, undeniable.
"You're here…" Her voice steadied, though her eyes still held a faint disbelief. "…You're still alive."
Lucien let out a shaky breath, a small laugh escaping him. "…Yeah… yeah, I am…" He rubbed his face quickly, trying to compose himself. "…And you too… I thought—I thought maybe you—"
Knock.
Her hand came down on his head. Not hard, but sharp enough.
"Of course I'm alive," she said, brows narrowing slightly. "…What, you wanted me to die or something?"
Lucien winced, rubbing his head immediately. "…Ow—! No, I didn't mean it like that!"
She crossed her arms slightly, giving him a look. "…Then what did you mean?"
He froze for a second, then quickly corrected himself. "…I just—I missed you. A lot."
A pause.
Her expression softened again, just slightly. "…Idiot," she muttered under her breath, but there was no bite to it.
Behind them, the first girl—the wolf-eared one Draven had pulled away—stood still, confusion written clearly across her face as she watched the exchange unfold.
Draven remained where he was, silent, watching. Crimson eyes shifting between them, not interested in emotion.
"…So that one is your sister," Draven said flatly.
Lucien turned slightly, still close to the elf girl, and nodded quickly. "…Yeah," he said, breath still uneven. "…She is."
Draven's crimson eyes shifted, slow, deliberate. They landed on the other girl—the wolf-eared one.
"…So the one with the dog ears just like you isn't your sister," he said, a faint pause. "…But the elf is instead."
His gaze lingered for a second longer. Unreadable. "…Really now."
Lucien blinked, confusion crossing his face instantly. "…Huh?" He frowned slightly. "…I don't understand—how does that matter—how does that fit in anyway?"
The wolf-eared girl's expression snapped. She yanked her arm fully away from where Draven had grabbed her. "…I'm not a dog." Sharp. Irritated.
Draven didn't even look at her. Not a glance, not a reaction. His eyes remained on Lucien. Cold. Steady.
"…And your sister doesn't have pink hair like the girl we saw back at the prison." A beat. "…And that one was human."
Lucien froze. "…Pink…?" he echoed, clearly lost.
Draven stared at him for a moment, silent. "…Damn fucking brat, are you color blind?" No emotion. No hesitation. Just a conclusion.
Lucien's face shifted between confusion and disbelief. "…Wait—what—?!"
Behind him, his sister blinked once, then slowly turned her gaze toward him. "…You mistaken me for someone with pink hair, and my hair isn't even pink?" A pause. "…Seriously?"
The wolf-eared girl snorted lightly under her breath, arms crossed. "…Oh."
Lucien looked like he wanted to disappear. "…I—It wasn't like that—! I just—!"
But Draven had already lost interest. His gaze shifted away. Back to the chaos. Back to the tokens. Back to the battlefield.
The chaos around them pulsed with tension, but in that brief pocket, the world seemed to slow.
The elf girl's voice cut through the noise. "…Sir, I—thank you. For taking care of my little brother, for coming to save me. I… I'm really grateful. I don't know how to repay you, but I'm willing to do whatever it takes, to the best of my ability."
Draven's crimson eyes fixed on her for a fraction of a second. Calm. Unblinking.
"…Don't," he said flatly. "…You don't owe me anything." He shifted slightly, gaze flicking momentarily toward Lucien. "…He should fulfill his end of the deal," Draven continued, tone even. "…If he doesn't—" His words trailed, unfinished—but the weight behind them was unmistakable.
Even in the middle of the battlefield, surrounded by chaos and the shimmer of falling tokens, it landed: a promise, a warning. Clear. Absolute.
Lucien froze. The words sank in immediately. His jaw clenched. He knew what was expected.
The elf girl's brows knitted slightly as she processed it. She glanced at her brother, the tension in her chest tightening. "…Lucien… what's the deal?" she asked softly, voice steady but laced with concern.
Lucien's eyes flicked toward Draven, then back to his sister. He swallowed, the words caught in his throat. "…I—I… I'll… I'll keep my part," he finally muttered, voice low but firm, each word carrying weight.
The elf girl's brows furrowed, confusion threading through her calm. "…Wait… what are you talking about? What deal? What do you need to do? If it's something dangerous—I can—"
Lucien held up a hand quickly, cutting her off. His voice low, steady, insistent. "…No. Don't worry. It's nothing dangerous. I can handle it."
Her eyes narrowed slightly, skeptical but willing to listen. "…Then what is it?"
Lucien exhaled slowly, glancing around the chaotic battlefield once before returning his gaze to her. "…I just… need to tell him. Draven… the location of the airship that brought us."
"…That's all?" she asked, surprised.
Lucien nodded. "…Yeah. That's it."
At that moment, a soft chime rang in Draven's earring. His crimson eyes flicked downward slightly, acknowledging the connection.
"…Vaelith," he said flatly.
A calm, melodic voice replied immediately, resonant through the link. "…Yes, my lord Draven."
Draven's gaze swept over the battlefield briefly before returning to her. "…Perfect timing," Vaelith's voice continued. "…The kid was just about to start talking."
Draven's eyes flicked toward Lucien, who stiffened slightly under the attention. Lucien swallowed and spoke, voice low but firm, careful with every word. "…The airport… it's hidden near the mountains outside the city."
Draven nodded slowly, almost imperceptibly, and relayed the information through the connection. "…Once you've located it, inform me immediately," he instructed.
"…Yes, my lord. Will do," Vaelith replied.