Draven's eyes tracked the movement—
—and then **locked**.
His breath stalled.
"…What."
"…Nah," he muttered. "That shit not real."
Out of the scorched treeline, a figure stepped forward.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
Armor cracked and dented, plates blackened and smeared with **dried blood**. Fresh blood still seeped from between the joints, running in thin lines down greaves and gauntlets. Lightning crawled over the metal in erratic pulses, illuminating torn cloth and scorched burn marks beneath.
Cedric.
Alive.
Draven's jaw tightened so hard it ached.
*No.*
*I— I saw him go limp.*
His mind raced, irritation spiking into something sharper, colder.
"What the fuck is this?" Draven muttered under his breath. "Am I seeing shit now, or is this some kind of miracle bullshit?"
Lightning surged harder around Cedric as he advanced, each step crunching leaves into ash.
Draven's lips curled.
"I'm pretty damn sure I killed you," he said flatly. "So how the hell are you still standing?" What is this—resurrection? Some holy bullshit clause I missed?"
Cedric stopped a few paces away.
His helm was gone.
His face was a mess—one side swollen, dried blood caked along his jaw and temple, one eye bloodshot and burning with manic resolve. His breathing was heavy, ragged, but his spine remained straight, posture rigid with sheer will.
Lightning flared.
His voice came out hoarse—but **unyielding**.
"How dare you," Cedric spat, lightning crackling with every word, "assume that a holy knight would fall to a mere demon."
He lifted his blade, the metal screaming softly as electricity wrapped around it.
"I am Cedric Valen," he continued, voice rising, conviction hardening it, "Knight Commander of the Royal Guard. Chosen blade of His Majesty."
His eyes burned into Draven.
"There is *no world* where I fall to something like you."
The forest seemed to dim around him as the light intensified.
Then—
The world **shifted**.
---
### **Flashback**
Darkness.
Silence.
Cedric lay broken in the void, body twisted, blood pooling beneath him.
His lungs barely moved.
Each breath scraped like broken glass.
Lightning flickered weakly along his veins—dying embers.
*I… can't… die…*
His fingers twitched.
Mana—thin, ragged, barely responsive—was dragged inward by sheer will.
Not to fight.
Not to heal.
To **stall**.
His heart slowed.
Blood thickened.
Life clung desperately to the edge of extinguishing.
*Hold… just hold…*
Then—
**Light.**
The dome shattered.
Holy radiance poured in like a flood.
Elira's prayer echoed across the battlefield, sanctified power crashing down in relentless waves.
That light didn't heal him gently.
It **invaded**.
Burned.
Stitched.
Forced his body back into function.
Mana surged violently, fusing with the divine radiance, lightning reigniting in his core like a struck match.
Cedric screamed.
But he lived.
---
### **Present**
Cedric stopped walking.
Lightning exploded outward.
"That light," he said, voice trembling with fervor, "and my will—pulled me back from the edge. So no, demon."
His blade ignited, gold lightning wrapping around the steel in violent spirals.
"I did not die."
Draven stared at him for half a second longer—
—and sighed.
"…Jesus Christ," he muttered. "You're still yapping."
He shifted Elliana slightly in his arms, muscles tightening, eyes narrowing.
"So let me get this straight," he said dryly. "You were too stubborn to die, got hit with a divine flashlight, and now you think that means round two?"
Cedric's grip tightened.
"This ends now," he said. "I will cleanse you—"
Draven didn't let him finish.
The air **collapsed**.
Cedric vanished.
No chant.
No buildup.
Just lightning **detonating**.
Draven's instincts screamed.
His eyes widened—
"—CRAP—!"
Cedric reappeared **directly in front of him**, blade already in motion, lightning shrieking as it carved downward in a brutal arc meant to split Draven in half.
Draven moved **instantly**.
He twisted his torso sideways, shoving Elliana out of the direct line of attack as his blade snapped up—
**CLANG—!**
Steel met steel.
Lightning **exploded** outward, blasting dirt and leaves into the air. The impact sent a shock through Draven's arms, teeth rattling as sparks burned across his coat.
Cedric pressed in without pause, face twisted with fury, blade grinding down with relentless force.
"You should have finished it," Cedric growled.
Draven bared his teeth.
"Yeah," he shot back, boots skidding as he absorbed the blow, shadows flickering uselessly at his feet. "I'm getting real sick of hearing that."
Lightning and steel screamed again as Cedric pushed harder—
—and Draven realized, with sharp, sinking clarity—
This bastard wasn't just alive.
He was running on **nothing but faith, pain, and borrowed light**.
And that made him **dangerous**.
---
### **Scene Shift**
Aldric moved through the forest like a wound that refused to close.
Branches recoiled from him.
Roots split beneath his steps.
Moonlight barely touched his form, swallowed by the slow, rhythmic pulse of crimson mana rolling off his body like a heartbeat. His wings were half-folded, torn membranes already knitting themselves back together with wet, unpleasant sounds.
His breath was steady now.
Too steady.
He lifted one hand, flexing his fingers as veins of blood-light crawled back into place beneath regenerating flesh. The last cracks from Lucan's flames sealed with a hiss, white-gold scorch marks finally fading from his ribs.
"…Tch."
He clicked his tongue, irritated.
"That bastard really almost had me."
A thin grin pulled at his mouth as he remembered it—the heat, the way the holy fire tried to **eat** its way toward his heart. Even now, the memory made his core tighten.
Aldric glanced down at his chest, palm pressing briefly over where his heart beat—strong, wet, alive.
"One flame," he muttered. "Just one touch… and that would've been it."
The blood around him stirred, reacting to the thought.
He shoved it down.
Not now.
He pushed forward, weaving between trees, moving faster as the forest thinned. His senses stretched outward, crimson awareness brushing against lingering mana traces—holy, shadowed, arcane.
And then—
He slowed.
Stopped.
His head tilted slightly, eyes narrowing.
"…Found you."
Ahead, the forest dipped into a shallow ravine. The ground there was torn apart—trees uprooted, earth scorched, mana lingering thick and chaotic.
Recent.
Very recent.
Holy mana residue crawled along broken bark.
Blood cuts scored stone.