The man's fist was still pressed against Draven's face.
Mana flickering around it.
Unstable.
Confused.
Because it should've done more.
Draven didn't even look at him.
His eyes shifted past the man—
Scanning.
Watching.
Other prisoners.
Some standing still.
Others already testing their limits.
Mana flickered.
Weak in some.
Strong in others.
But it was there.
*…So the collars aren't fully sealing it anymore.*
His gaze sharpened slightly.
*Restriction… not suppression.*
Then—
He turned his head just a bit.
Looking toward the boy behind him.
"Hey."
His voice cut through the noise.
"Kid."
The boy blinked, still tense from everything happening.
"…What?"
Draven didn't waste time.
"Can you use mana now?"
The boy frowned slightly, confused by the sudden question.
But—
He focused.
Closed his eyes for a second.
Tried to reach for it.
At first—
Nothing.
Then—
A faint spark.
His eyes widened slightly.
"…I can—"
Mana flickered weakly around his hand.
Unsteady.
But real.
"It's… there."
He looked at it, surprised.
"I can use it."
Draven watched for a second.
Then nodded faintly.
*As expected.*
His eyes shifted back forward.
To the man still in front of him.
Still trying to process what just happened.
"Good."
Calm.
Flat.
"Then don't die."
The man's expression twisted slightly.
"…The hell are you two talking about—"
Draven moved.
Not fast.
Not flashy.
Just—
Direct.
His chained hands lifted slightly—
Restricted.
But enough.
He stepped forward—
Closing the tiny gap between them—
And drove his head forward—
**CRACK**
A brutal headbutt slammed into the man's face.
Bone broke instantly.
Blood sprayed.
The man's body staggered backward—
Disoriented—
Before he could recover—
Draven stepped in again.
Chains dragging.
And slammed his shoulder into him—
**THUD**
Sending him crashing into the wall.
Hard.
The impact echoed through the corridor.
The man collapsed to the ground.
Not moving.
Draven didn't even look down at him.
His gaze lifted again.
Forward.
Toward the rest of the corridor.
Toward the others watching.
Those with mana.
Those who were starting to realize—
What kind of presence had just stepped into the open.
"…Let's go."
He spoke calmly.
Walking forward again.
Chains dragging behind him.
The boy hesitated for only a second—
Then quickly followed.
Because now—
More than ever—
Staying near Draven felt like the only safe option.
Even if—
He might be the most dangerous one there.
The sound came again.
That same distorted resonance—
But this time—
A voice followed.
It echoed through every corridor.
Every cell.
Every corner of the prison.
Smooth.
Casual.
Almost amused.
"Ah… looks like I've got your attention."
Everything stopped.
Movement.
Fighting.
Breathing felt heavier.
The voice continued.
"I think so, at least. Not like I can see you."
A soft chuckle.
"But feel free to keep doing whatever you were doing before."
A pause.
Then—
"If you want to get out of here…"
The tone shifted.
Sharper.
"…then listen. Carefully."
The air grew tense.
Even the strongest among them stilled.
"Right now, by our estimation… there are a little over two hundred of you."
A faint hum followed the words.
"Close to three hundred, really."
Another pause.
"But we only need one hundred."
Silence.
Heavy.
Unsettling.
"That's too many, don't you think?"
A soft laugh echoed.
"So we've made things easier for you."
Draven's eyes narrowed slightly.
The voice continued—
"We've released the mana restrictions on your collars."
"Now you can all use your mana freely."
A beat.
"So…"
A faint, almost playful tone slipped in—
"Why don't you sort yourselves out?"
The meaning settled instantly.
Cold.
Clear.
"When only one hundred of you remain…"
"…we'll tell you what to do next."
A long pause.
Then—
Almost as an afterthought—
"Oh. And one more thing."
The tone dropped.
Flat.
"If you attempt to remove the collar…"
A slight distortion in the voice.
"…it will explode."
A breath.
"Instantly killing the wearer."
For a split second—
Nothing happened.
Then—
**BOOM**
A head—
Gone.
Just like that.
Blood sprayed across the corridor.
The body stood for half a second—
Before collapsing.
**THUD**
Silence followed.
Pure.
Absolute.
Then—
Someone screamed.
And everything broke.
Chaos erupted.
Mana flared in every direction.
Prisoners turned on each other instantly—
Some out of fear.
Others out of instinct.
Others—
Because they understood.
Kill—
Or be killed.
The boy froze.
Eyes wide.
Body trembling.
"…They want us to—"
His voice shook.
"Kill each other…"
Draven didn't respond immediately.
His gaze moved slowly across the corridor.
Watching.
Analyzing.
People fighting.
People running.
People dying.
His expression didn't change.
"…Yeah."
Flat.
Calm.
As if it was obvious.
"They just turned this place into a selection ground."
Another scream echoed.
Closer this time.
A man was slammed into the wall, mana bursting through his chest.
Draven glanced once—
Then looked forward again.
Unbothered.
"Stay close."
His voice cut through the noise again.
Colder this time.
"Or you're dead."
The boy swallowed hard.
Then nodded quickly.
Because now—
There was no illusion left.
No escape without blood.
No safety without strength.
And the number—
**Two hundred… down to one hundred.**
That meant—
Half of them—
Had to die.
And judging by the way things were already unfolding—
It had already begun.
Chaos hadn't fully exploded yet—
But it was coming.
You could feel it in the air.
That moment before everything breaks.
Draven was already moving.
Chains dragging behind him as he walked forward without hesitation.
"…Tch."
A faint click of his tongue.
"This is annoying."
His voice stayed flat.
"Now we've got to find that sister of yours fast…"
A brief pause.
"…before she ends up killing someone…"
Another step.
"…or end up being killed—"
His eyes flicked slightly back toward the boy.
"…would you rather reunite with a corpse?"
The boy's teeth clenched instantly.
His fists tightened.
"She's not that weak."
His voice was firm.
Sharp.
"She won't die that easily."
A breath.
Then lower—
"…But we still need to find her. Fast."
Draven didn't argue.
Didn't care to.
He just kept walking.
"Then sharpen your eyes."
Calm.
Direct.
"Move."
The chains dragged louder as he picked up his pace slightly.
"Better you find her while their still hesitating…"
His gaze swept the corridor again.
Some prisoners were already circling each other.
Testing.
Watching.
Waiting for the first real opening.
"…than after they start thinking clearly."
Another turn down the corridor.
Blood already staining parts of the floor.
A body lay slumped to the side.
Fresh.
Still warm.
Draven didn't slow.
"…Once they commit…"
A faint pause.
"…it won't stop."
The boy swallowed.
Then moved faster.
Dropping low—
Back on all fours.
Eyes scanning every open cell they passed.
Every face.
Every corner.
Desperation creeping in—
But controlled.
Because now—
Every second mattered.
And behind them—
The first real clash erupted.
A scream.
A blast of mana.
And the beginning—
Of the slaughter.