The courtyard stank of smoke, blood, and sweat. Bodies lay sprawled in grotesque piles where Luv and Ayu had carved their path, yet the night was far from quiet—distant horns still echoed, soldiers whispered from the shadows, and torches hissed in the damp air.
At the center, two figures now faced each other.
Luv, dagger low in his hand, body coiled like a predator. His breathing was steady, his black eyes burning coldly, every muscle tuned for the next strike.
Kael, Moraku's blood-brother, stood tall with his curved rune-etched blade. His posture was relaxed, almost casual, but the subtle shift in his stance told the truth: he was a seasoned killer who could strike at any instant.
Around them, Crimson Fang soldiers formed a wide circle, silent now, their gazes fixed on the duel. Ayu stood on the edge, pistols drawn, covering Luv's flank. She could feel the tension twisting like a noose around her throat.
Kael broke the silence first.
"You fight with a dagger, boy. Small, quick… but it means you must be close to kill. That takes nerve. Or desperation."
Luv didn't answer. He stepped forward instead.
Kael's smile sharpened. "Good. Let your blade speak."
The clash came sudden and violent.
Kael slashed first, his curved blade hissing through the air in a deadly arc. Luv sidestepped, his dagger flashing upward in a counter. Steel struck steel with a ringing note that echoed across the courtyard. Sparks scattered like fireflies.
Kael pressed harder, his strikes a blur of precision and strength. Each swing carried not only physical force but the weight of his experience. Luv parried, ducked, twisted, his smaller blade darting in and out like a serpent, carving shallow cuts along Kael's arm and ribs.
"You're quick," Kael admitted, gritting his teeth as another nick of blood welled on his forearm. Then his grin returned. "But I'm patient."
He shifted tactics—no longer swinging wildly, but controlling the space, herding Luv with each step. His curved blade whirled like a storm, forcing Luv back toward the ring of soldiers.
At the same time, soldiers surged toward Ayu, trying to overwhelm her while their leader held Luv. She moved like a flame, weaving between them, pistols cracking loud in the night. Each shot was precise, dropping enemies before they could touch her. But numbers pressed her hard—her pistols clicked empty again, and she was forced to swing one like a club while reloading the other.
"Luv!" she shouted, her voice tight with effort.
Luv barely glanced her way—just a flicker of his eyes—but it was enough. Kael seized the opening, his curved blade slicing across Luv's side. Blood sprayed, painting the stones dark.
Luv staggered but didn't fall. His grip tightened on the dagger, his stance lowering like a wolf cornered. Pain radiated through his ribs, but he steadied his breath, eyes locking on Kael with a quiet, terrifying resolve.
Kael licked the blood from his blade, smirking. "Good. Now you're interesting."
The soldiers roared approval, stomping their boots in rhythm.
Luv inhaled slowly. The world narrowed—the noise, the flames, the soldiers, even Ayu's struggle—all faded until only Kael remained. His dagger pulsed in his grip, steady and sure.
He whispered, more to himself than to anyone else:
"This ends here."
And then he lunged.