"By the shadows of ancient warriors," he whispered, power building in his voice, "AWAKEN: KUNG FU MASTER!"
Energy exploded through Drake's body like liquid lightning. His muscles reconfigured, his stance shifted to perfect fighting form, and suddenly he possessed the accumulated knowledge of a thousand martial arts masters.
His clone, still dangling from the curtain rod, caught his eye and grinned. "Showtime?"
Drake cracked his knuckles, each pop echoing with lethal promise.
"Time to teach these psychos about respect."
---
AAAAGH!
THUMP!
The shop's display mannequins exploded outward like shrapnel as Elsa spring-kicked the door open, her hands gripping the frame with casual grace—as if she hadn't just demolished a reinforced barrier with her bare feet.
"Why didn't you guys let me out?" she huffed, brushing dust from her hair. "For a second there I thought you'd locked me in on purpose—"
Her eyes swept across the devastated boutique, taking in the smoking crater where the entrance used to be, the scattered debris, and the blood-spattered walls.
"What the hell happened here?"
Drake's face erupted in crimson as his traitorous eyes betrayed every ounce of his self-control.
Elsa stood there, completely oblivious to her state of undress.
Snow-white lace clung to her curves like it was painted on. Her bra struggled valiantly against physics, barely containing assets that defied both gravity and Drake's sanity. Matching panties hugged her hips with devastating precision, accentuating every soft curve and drawing attention to legs that could make angels weep.
She looked like an ice goddess who'd forgotten the concept of modesty entirely.
Drake's voice cracked like a pubescent teenager. "U-uhm... Elsa..."
"What?" she blinked, noticing the bruises and blood decorating his face. Her expression shifted to genuine concern. "What happened to you? And why is your face redder than a tomato?"
"B-b-because you're practically naked!"
"What do you mean I'm practically nak—AAAAAAAH!"
The shriek that escaped her throat could have shattered crystal. Her entire body went rigid as the reality of her wardrobe malfunction hit her like a freight train. She crossed her arms defensively, trying to cover strategic areas while simultaneously attempting to hide behind herself.
"L-Look away, you absolute pervert!"
"Hey!" Drake sputtered indignantly. "You call me a pervert when you're the one busting through doors like some half-naked demolition expert? That's full-blown gorilla noble behavior—all muscle, no brains!"
"SHUT UP! Who are you calling a gorilla noble, you walking hormone disaster?!"
"PEW-PEW!"
Havoc's mocking finger guns cut through their bickering like a blade through silk, drawing every eye in the room back to the real threat.
"Well, well," Bronns chimed in with predatory amusement, "looks like our new friends forgot we were having a conversation. That's just plain rude."
Elsa's blush deepened as her gaze fell on the scene—Havoc's cannon still pressed against Bartholomew's bloodied face, the butler's eyes wide with pain and terror.
"Who the hell are you two supposed to be?" Elsa demanded, her voice gaining steel despite her embarrassment.
"The name's Havoc," the cannon-wielder replied with mock politeness. "Though I'm betting that pretty little head of yours might remember me if you tried real hard."
Bronns rolled his eyes. "Seriously? You're gonna make me do the dramatic reveal thing? Just tell her already."
"Where's the fun in that?" Havoc's grin turned predatory as he studied Elsa's face. "Come on, ice princess. Look closer. I know those brain cells are rattling around in there somewhere."
Havoc narrowed his eyes, scanning her features with the intensity of a hunting cat...
Then he froze.
BANG!
His boot slammed into the marble floor with enough force to crack it. The playful malice in his expression twisted into something far more dangerous—pure, concentrated hatred.
"Well, I'll be damned," he growled, voice dripping venom. "It really is you. That sanctimonious little noble brat—Elsa Frostvale."
*Wait... she knows this psychopath?* Drake's muscles tensed, ready to spring into action.
Elsa frowned, genuinely confused. "Sorry, but you'll have to refresh my memory. I meet a lot of people."
*So she doesn't recognize him after all...*
Havoc yanked his cannon away from Bartholomew's mouth with violent force.
"GAHHH!" Bartholomew collapsed, clutching his bleeding jaw.
Havoc advanced on Elsa, each step radiating barely contained fury. "How could you forget me, princess? After everything you did to me?"
"I honestly have no idea what you're talking about."
"SHUT UP!" The roar exploded from Havoc's throat with such raw rage that dust fell from the ceiling. "How could you forget the man whose life you destroyed?!"
*This guy's either completely unhinged or he's got one hell of a grudge,* Drake thought, hand instinctively drifting toward where his weapons would normally rest.
"Remember that winter night... at the Moonlit Tavern?" Havoc's voice dropped to a menacing whisper.
Elsa blinked. "Which night? It's always winter here, and there are dozens of taverns—"
Then her eyes widened. Color drained from her face as a memory surfaced from the depths of her mind.
"You can't possibly mean..."
"YES!" Havoc's voice cracked with years of suppressed rage. "It's all coming back now, isn't it? The night you turned me into this!"
With theatrical flourish, he tore away the cloth covering his lower torso, revealing a network of grotesque surgical scars where his manhood used to be.
"You castrated me!"
Drake's spine went rigid. *Holy shit. She actually... wow. That explains the psychotic energy radiating off this guy.*
Elsa went pale as fresh snow. "I... I thought the Solar Knights had you executed."
"They tried," Bronns interjected with dark amusement. "Bastard gnawed through three guards and vanished into the woods. Been plotting his revenge ever since."
Havoc's scarred hands trembled with barely controlled fury. "You didn't just wound me, Elsa. You stripped away everything that made me a man. Turned me into a laughingstock."
*And thank the gods she did,* Drake thought grimly, his fists clenching.
"This cannon?" Havoc hefted the massive weapon with bitter pride. "It's my compensation. My replacement. You branded me a monster—so I became one."
"What's the whole story here, Elsa?" Drake asked, his voice deadly serious. "I need to know what we're dealing with."
Elsa took a shuddering breath, her voice barely above a whisper. "If you really want to know... then I'll tell you."
She straightened, finding her courage despite her vulnerable state.
"This man was a monster long before I marked him. He was a serial predator—one that kept the entire kingdom in terror for months. His victims were always young girls, fifteen to nineteen years old."
Drake's blood turned to ice.
"He would abduct them, torture them, and..." her voice caught, "violate them repeatedly until they died from the trauma. Then he'd dump their broken bodies in public squares at dawn, like trophies."
The boutique fell into suffocating silence.
"Because of him, no girl could walk the streets safely. Parents locked their daughters away. The kingdom lived in constant fear."
Elsa's gaze locked onto Havoc with pure, undiluted hatred.
"That night... I was fifteen. My Echoform hadn't awakened yet. I was powerless, just another potential victim."
Even Havoc had gone quiet, his expression unreadable.
"I heard screaming behind the tavern. Against every instinct, I investigated and found him... already pinning down a girl who couldn't have been older than sixteen. She was fighting, so he beat her unconscious."
Elsa's voice began to tremble. "I froze. My legs turned to stone. I wanted to run, to call for help, but terror paralyzed me completely."
Drake's heart hammered against his ribs. The air itself seemed to thicken with tension.
"I tried to back away quietly, but a rat scurried over my foot. I screamed before I could stop myself."
Havoc's eyes glittered with the memory.
"He spotted me instantly. Left his victim bleeding in the alley and came after me like a hunting wolf. I ran—gods, I ran—but I was trapped in a dead-end alley. He caught me. Smiled like I was his next meal."
Elsa's fists trembled with suppressed emotion.
"He told me he'd 'show me pleasure' before sending me to join his other victims. Said he'd been watching me for weeks, waiting for the perfect opportunity."
Drake's knuckles turned bone white.
"He tore my dress to shreds. Threatened to gut me if I screamed. Pinned me against the brick wall and..." her voice dropped to barely audible, "forced my legs apart."
The temperature in the room seemed to plummet. Even Bronns had stopped grinning.
"I thought I was going to die. Thought I'd become just another body for the morning patrol to find."