The doors creaked open.
Draven strolled into the training room, yawning lazily. His expression was a mixture of boredom and sleepiness, as though he would rather be anywhere else.
Lyriana followed quietly behind him, her eyes moving across the room as she sensed the tension in the air.
Across the training room stood Draven's father, his arms folded and his gaze sharp as steel.
Aldric stood off to the side, his expression neutral. Strangely enough, however, he looked completely untouched.
Draven's father glanced toward the doorway.
"Took you long enough, brat."
Draven blinked a few times, still half-asleep. He glanced between his father and Aldric, raising an eyebrow as he took in the situation.
*Weren't they just sparring?*
His gaze settled on Aldric.
*But that bastard looks perfectly fine. No bloodstains, no scratches. Not even a speck of dust on him.*
Aldric shifted slightly, remaining silent.
His expression barely changed, but inwardly, he was struggling to accept what had just happened.
*Am I really that weak? I didn't even get close to landing a hit… and he looked like he was barely trying.*
Draven's father casually stretched his neck, producing a small crack before looking back at his son.
"I was starting to get bored sparring with your friend here."
Draven scoffed.
"Friend?"
*Who the hell said that dude was my friend?*
His father ignored his reaction and continued with a smirk.
"Well then, how about you step up? Spar with your old man."
Draven stared at him, completely unimpressed.
*Hell no. That damn old man just wants another excuse to break my bones.*
"Yeah… I'll pass."
His father seemed unsurprised by the answer. In fact, his smirk only widened.
"Knew you'd say that."
He unfolded his arms and tilted his head slightly.
"Fine. How about we make a deal? If you spar with me, I'll tell you some very interesting news. Trust me, it's something you'll want to hear."
Draven looked at him with a blank expression.
"I'm still not interested."
Without another word, he turned around and began walking toward the exit.
*What kind of 'news' is he even talking about? Hmph. Whatever. I'm starving anyway. Might as well get something to eat.*
But just as he approached the door—
**WHOOSH!**
A sudden gust of wind swept through the room.
Before anyone could react, Draven's father vanished from where he stood and reappeared beside his son.
His fist was already in motion.
A grin spread across his face.
"Don't just leave, brat. Why don't you stay… and play with your old man?"
Draven's eyes snapped wide.
He barely had enough time to raise both arms in front of himself.
Then—
**BOOOOOOM!**
The punch landed with the force of a cannon blast.
Draven's body was launched across the training room.
The impact sent him flying through the air, and the surrounding walls trembled from the sheer force of the blow.
His arms shattered on impact.
Several of his ribs cracked as well.
But before his body could even hit the ground, something extraordinary happened.
His flesh began knitting itself back together. Broken bones shifted into place, and the fractures rapidly disappeared as his regeneration took effect.
By the time he reached the other side of the room, his arms had already recovered.
Draven twisted his body in mid-air, flipped once, and landed on his feet.
He dropped into a crouch, his breathing slightly heavier than before.
But his body was already whole again.
He slowly raised his head, glaring at his father.
"What the hell, old man…?"
His voice was low and irritated.
Then he suddenly shouted.
"Who the heck plays with their kids by breaking their bones?!"
His father watched him calmly.
However, a faint flicker of surprise passed through his eyes.
*He blocked it… Not bad.*
His gaze lingered on Draven for another moment.
*The brat's stronger than I thought.*
Lyriana's eyes widened.
Her heart pounded as she watched Draven's father.
*What the hell? He's fast! I didn't even see when he moved so close… But the Young Master managed to block his attack in time.*
She turned her attention toward Draven, who now stood facing his father with a fierce glare.
Meanwhile, Draven's mind was racing.
*I need to get the hell out of here. Right now.*
*If I don't, this old man's gonna beat the crap out of me.*
He stole a glance toward the exit.
*He's standing right next to the door… Damn it. Isn't there another way out?*
His head turned as he quickly scanned the training room.
*One door. No windows.*
His expression darkened.
*How the hell did I never notice that before?*
Then his eyes settled on the far wall.
*Should I just break through it? I probably could. Maybe… if I—*
Before he could finish the thought, his father was already in front of him.
He appeared like a shadow splitting through space, his fist drawn back and ready to strike.
"Brat, what the hell are you looking around for?" his father growled.
**BOOM!**
His fist slammed into Draven's stomach with terrifying force.
The impact was catastrophic.
Bones cracked. His spine snapped, and his ribs shattered under the tremendous force. His internal organs were crushed beneath the impact, sending an overwhelming wave of pain through his entire body.
Draven's eyes bulged.
His mouth fell open as a deep, agonized growl escaped his throat, accompanied by a spray of saliva.
His body was sent flying across the room.
**CRASH!**
He slammed into the far wall with enough force to leave a massive crater in the stone. His body became embedded in the cracked surface, his limbs hanging loosely like those of a broken doll.
Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.
He coughed, and pain shot through every nerve in his body.
*What the hell is this wall made of?*
Even in the middle of his agony, the thought crossed his mind.
*I didn't even break through it.*
His gaze shifted weakly toward the exit.
*Can't escape… even if I wanted to.*
A shaky laugh escaped his bloodied lips.
"God damn it, old man…" he muttered hoarsely.
With a surge of strength, Draven pulled himself free from the wall.
His body dropped to the floor with a dull thud.
He turned his head to the side and spat out a mouthful of blood before wiping his mouth with the back of his left hand.
A crooked smile slowly stretched across his bruised face.
His glowing red eyes burned with an unmistakable fire.
"If you wanna play so badly, old man…"
He slowly straightened up.
"Then let's play."
In a flash, Draven vanished.
A moment later, he reappeared beside his father, his right fist shooting forward in a lightning-fast punch.
But his father was ready.
He casually raised his left hand and caught Draven's fist without even flinching.
"Brat," he said with a smirk. "Looks like you're finally ready to play with your old man."
Before Draven could react, the King's right hand lashed out.
**CRACK!**
The punch connected with Draven's face, snapping his head backward with a thunderous impact.
But Draven didn't fall.
The instant his father's punch landed, he seized the King's striking hand with his free hand.
A sharp smile flickered across his lips as his glowing red eyes locked onto his father.
At the same time, his father had firmly caught Draven's left leg.
From the outside, their movements looked chaotic.
But there was precision behind Draven's apparent madness.
He had anticipated the counterattack. When his father struck his face, Draven immediately grabbed the attacking hand and retaliated with a swift kick.
His father had blocked it effortlessly, catching his leg before it could land.
"Brat, you—"
His father began to speak, but Draven didn't give him the chance to finish.
Using the hand he had captured for support, Draven shifted his weight.
Then, in one swift motion, he swung his other leg in a sudden, powerful arc.
His father simply shifted his grip slightly, positioning his arm to intercept the incoming kick.
**CRACK!**
The kick landed squarely against his father's elbow.
But the result wasn't what Draven had intended.
The bones in his foot shattered under the impact.
Reacting quickly, Draven released his father's hand. He pushed off with his other leg, using the momentum to flip backward through the air.
He landed gracefully on his feet.
By then, his shattered foot had already healed completely.