For a moment—
No one moved.
The corridor fell into a strange, suffocating silence.
Eyes lingered on the headless corpse.
On the blood still spreading across the stone.
On the chains—
That had just taken a life so effortlessly.
Then—
People stepped back.
Instinctively.
No one spoke.
No one challenged.
Even those who had been watching with greed moments ago—
Turned away.
Because whatever that was—
It wasn't prey.
It wasn't even competition.
It was something else entirely.
—
The boy swallowed hard.
His throat dry.
But he moved.
Quickly.
Falling in behind Draven again.
Closer this time.
Much closer.
"…Right."
His voice was low.
Tense.
His eyes snapped back to scanning—
Cells.
Faces.
Corners.
Anything—
Everything.
*Find her.*
*Find her now.*
Because now—
There was no doubt left.
If she was here—
She was in danger.
From everyone.
—
Draven walked forward again.
Chains dragging.
**Clink… clink…**
Unbothered.
As if the execution hadn't happened.
As if the widening space around him meant nothing.
His gaze moved calmly through the corridor.
Tracking movement.
Evaluating threats.
Ignoring the rest.
Another scream echoed from deeper within.
A flash of mana.
A body slammed into the wall ahead.
Someone cried out—
Then went silent.
The massacre was escalating fast.
—
They turned a corner.
And the boy froze.
Just for a second.
His eyes locked onto a cell ahead—
Half-open.
Someone inside.
Curled slightly against the wall.
Small.
Too small.
His heart jumped.
"…!"
He rushed forward—
Faster this time—
Sliding to a stop at the entrance—
Eyes wide—
"…Wait—"
His voice caught.
Uncertain.
Hope—
And fear—
Colliding at once.
Behind him—
Draven slowed.
Chains settling as he stopped just outside.
His eyes shifted—
Landing on the figure inside the cell.
Calm.
Measuring.
Waiting.
"…Well?"
Flat.
The boy didn't answer immediately.
Because he wasn't sure.
Not yet.
And in a place like this—
Being wrong—
Could cost everything.
The boy stepped closer.
Slowly.
His breath uneven.
Eyes locked onto the small figure in the corner.
"…Hey…"
No response.
The girl didn't move.
Didn't lift her head.
The dim light flickered slightly—
And for a moment—
He thought—
*It's her.*
His chest tightened.
He took another step.
Closer.
"…Sis—"
Then—
He stopped.
His eyes narrowed.
The shape of the face.
The hair.
The ears—
Wrong.
Not her.
Silence.
His shoulders dropped slightly.
"…It's not her."
Quiet.
Flat.
The hope that had risen—
Gone just as quickly.
Behind him—
Draven let out a faint breath.
Not a sigh.
Not frustration.
Just… acknowledgment.
"…Are you even sure you know what your own sister looks like?"
His voice was calm—
But sharp enough to cut.
The boy's jaw tightened instantly.
"Of course I do."
Low.
Defensive.
"I just—"
He stopped himself.
Didn't finish.
Didn't need to.
Because even he knew—
That hesitation—
That mistake—
Could've cost time.
Valuable time.
Draven didn't push further.
He simply turned slightly.
Chains shifting.
"…Then stop second-guessing."
Flat.
"Look properly."
A faint pause.
"…or you'll keep wasting time."
Another scream echoed from deeper in the prison.
Closer now.
The sound of bodies hitting stone.
Mana clashing violently.
The situation was getting worse.
Fast.
Draven glanced once more at the girl in the cell—
Then looked forward again.
"…She's not here."
Simple.
Decided.
He started walking again.
Chains dragging.
**Clink…**
"Move."
The boy hesitated for half a second—
Looking back at the girl one last time—
Then clenched his fists.
And followed.
Faster this time.
Because now—
He understood.
This wasn't just searching anymore.
This was a race—
Against death itself.
—
The boy slowed.
Then stopped completely.
His breathing was uneven now.
Eyes darting—
Left.
Right.
Back the way they came.
Forward again.
Nothing.
"…No…"
His voice came out low.
Unsteady.
"I've checked…"
His fingers tightened slightly.
"…everywhere."
Cells.
Corners.
Faces.
Even the ones he didn't want to look at.
"…She's not here."
Silence followed.
Heavy.
The kind that pressed down on his chest.
Because if she wasn't here—
Then where was she?
—
Behind him—
**Clink…**
Draven came to a stop.
Close.
Not rushed.
Not tense.
Just… there.
He looked down at the boy for a second.
Then forward again.
"…Alright."
Simple.
No surprise.
No emotion.
The boy blinked slightly.
"…Alright?"
Draven shifted his stance faintly.
Chains settling.
"If she's not here…"
A glance toward the deeper sections of the prison.
"…then she's somewhere else."
Flat.
Logical.
"We wait."
The boy's brows furrowed.
"…Wait?"
Draven nodded slightly toward the chaos around them.
"Let them finish killing each other."
A man nearby screamed as a blade tore through him—
Another prisoner blasted someone into the wall with raw mana—
Blood splattered across the floor—
Some fought like beasts.
Others backed away, defending, trying to survive.
And then—
There were those who didn't move at all.
Watching.
Waiting.
Calculating.
"…When it's over," Draven continued,
"…they'll move the survivors."
A faint pause.
"…or open the next section."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"That's when we check the other side."
The boy clenched his teeth.
Frustration.
Worry.
Fear—
All building.
"…What if she isn't—"
He stopped.
Didn't finish.
Draven didn't look at him.
"…Then she's still alive."
Calm.
Certain.
"Because if she wasn't…"
A slight tilt of his head.
"…you wouldn't be here worrying about her."
The boy froze slightly at that.
Draven's gaze shifted briefly—
Scanning the prisoners again.
"…So either she's stronger than you think…"
A faint pause.
"…or luckier."
Another step forward.
Chains dragging softly.
"Either way…"
His voice remained cold.
"…she's still part of this entire mess."
The boy exhaled slowly.
Trying to steady himself.
Then nodded.
"…Okay."
Because right now—
There was nothing else they could do.
Around them—
The massacre continued.
Some killing without hesitation.
Some barely surviving.
Some waiting for the right moment to strike.
And above it all—
An unspoken truth settled in.
They weren't just prisoners anymore.
They were—
Participants.
It happened instantly.
Like something had been ripped away.
The flow of mana—
Gone.
Every flicker. Every surge. Every presence that had filled the air just moments ago—
Vanished.
The entire prison fell into a hollow silence.
Breathing became heavier.
Bodies that had been mid-motion—
Staggered.
Some dropped to their knees.
Others looked around in shock.
"…What—"
Then—
That voice returned.
Echoing.
Distorted.
Watching—even without eyes.
"Well… looks like you've all been busy."
A soft chuckle followed.
"It's been… what—ten minutes?"
A pause. Then—
"Not bad."
Draven's eyes narrowed slightly. Still standing. Unaffected.
"From nearly three hundred…"
The voice continued.
"…down to just over a hundred."
A hum of satisfaction lingered in the tone.
"Still not quite a hundred, but…"
Another pause.
"…you've done a great job."
Silence.