Greg's sword collides with one of the men's blades.
The impact is heavy.
The man's arm jerks upward, his sword flung high from the sheer force behind Greg's strike.
Greg does not stay in place.
He steps back immediately, avoiding the simultaneous swings from the other two men, their blades cutting through the air where he stood a moment ago.
He shifts his footing.
Then strikes again.
His sword arcs toward one of them, forcing the man to raise his weapon in defence, while at the same time Greg drives his foot forward, kicking the second attacker in the belly.
The man grunts, his body folding slightly as he stumbles back.
The rhythm of the fight breaks.
At that moment,
Claude arrives.
He charges forward without hesitation.
His target is clear.
The man who had just stepped back to recover from Greg's assault.
Claude's sword flashes.
The strike comes suddenly, catching the man completely off guard.
The blade pierces his belly.
The man's eyes widen.
But he reacts instinctively.
He turns, swinging his sword in retaliation.
Claude does not retreat.
Fighting energy surges into his left hand.
He raises it,
And catches the incoming blade.
His palm burns.
But he holds it.
Twists.
At the same time, his right hand drives the sword deeper.
The blade sinks further into the man's body.
The man's expression shifts.
From shock,
To fear.
His lips tremble.
Blood leaks out slowly.
Then he screams.
A raw, desperate sound.
Claude feels it.
The life slipping away.
Fading.
Gone.
The man's body goes limp in his grasp.
Footsteps rush closer.
Inspector Roy and Inspector Leanne arrive.
Roy does not hesitate.
He charges straight into the fight, his presence overwhelming.
Claude pulls his sword free.
The body slides down to the ground.
Dead.
Leanne rushes to Claude.
Her eyes scan him quickly, taking in the cuts and blood across his body.
"Claude, are you okay?"
Claude releases his grip on his sword slightly, his left hand trembling faintly from the earlier clash.
He glances to the side.
Roy engages one of the remaining men and cuts him down swiftly.
At the same time, Greg disarms the last man, knocking the sword out of his hand and forcing him to the ground, subduing him.
Claude looks back at Leanne.
"I am okay," he says.
Mary comes running, her voice filled with urgency.
"Inspectors, please ask him where they took my nephew."
Claude hears this.
And understands.
That is why Mary was following them.
Harry.
He had been taken.
Roy grabs the captured man from Greg, gripping his jaw tightly.
His voice turns cold.
"Tell me," Roy says, "what do the Wolf Bandits want with the captured children?"
Children.
Not just one.
Claude's thoughts flash.
Back to the village.
The massacre.
The dead.
And those spared,
Children under ten.
Some women.
Taken.
Why?
The bandit does not answer.
Instead, he murmurs something under his breath.
Then, suddenly, screams.
"Take my body, my Lord!"
A chill spreads through the air.
An eerie breath descends upon him.
Leanne's voice cuts sharply.
"Senior Roy, quickly kill him!"
Green lines spread across the bandit's skin, crawling like something alive beneath it.
Without hesitation, Roy snaps the man's neck.
A clean, decisive motion.
The body goes still.
The eerie presence fades.
But not completely.
A faint sound lingers.
A hiss.
Like a snake.
They all freeze for a moment.
Their eyes meet.
Fear passes silently between them.
They understand.
An Evil Spirit had almost descended.
Only beings at the level of a Nine-Level Dream Magician can project themselves across such distances.
Even then, not at full strength,
But enough.
Enough to kill them all.
The air slowly returns to normal.
Roy exhales.
He turns slightly and speaks.
"Thank you for stopping them."
Claude hears it.
He also hears the young man respond.
"Greg."
The name reaches him clearly.
Claude turns his head.
He looks at the young man.
Under the pale light of the moon, he sees his face clearly.
Recognition strikes instantly.
It is him.
The boy from the Paradise.
Greg.
At the same moment, Leanne notices.
"Do you know him?" she asks, gesturing toward Greg.
Greg looks at Claude.
Recognition flickers in his eyes as well.
Claude answers immediately.
"No."
His voice is calm.
Without pause.
He turns back to Leanne.
"I should go," he says. "I need to bring back Claudia."
Leanne shakes her head.
"No need, you go to a doctor, I will bring Claudia."
Claude opens his mouth to argue.
But the pain he had been suppressing surges back all at once.
His body weakens.
Blood loss catches up to him.
He exhales slowly.
"…Okay."
Leanne tells him the location of a nearby doctor.
Claude nods.
Then turns and begins to walk away.
Each step heavier than the last.
Behind him, Mary's voice rises again, filled with desperation.
"Please, bring justice for my sister… and bring back my nephew."
The words linger in the night air.
Claude walks slowly toward a nearby clinic, each step heavier than the last.
Inside, the doctor works quickly.
Wounds are cleaned.
Cuts are stitched.
Bandages are wrapped tightly around his arms, torso, and shoulder.
The sting of medicine burns briefly before settling into a dull ache.
After receiving a small packet of medicine and paying the fee, Claude leaves.
He makes his way back to the inn.
As he steps inside, the innkeeper, George, immediately notices him.
His eyes widen at the sight of the bandages covering Claude's body.
"Claude, what is going on?" George asks, his voice filled with concern.
Claude exhales slowly.
"I came across Wolf Bandits and fought them."
Alarm flashes across George's face.
"Wolf Bandits? In the city? What is the police doing?"
Claude feels a wave of dizziness wash over him again.
He steadies himself.
"For now, I need to rest," he says. "I will tell you later."
George nods quickly.
"Yes, yes, you should rest."
He steps forward and helps Claude up the stairs, supporting him carefully.
They reach the room.
At the doorway, George pauses.
"What about your sister, Claudia?"
"My senior sister will bring her back," Claude replies.
George nods, still worried.
Claude steps inside and closes the door.
The room is quiet.
He begins removing his torn and blood-stained clothes, dropping them aside, then takes off his shoes.
From the cupboard, he takes out a set of clean clothes and puts them on slowly.
Every movement reminds him of his injuries.
Then he walks to the bed.
He lies down.
Pulls the cover over himself.
The moment his head touches the pillow,
His eyes grow heavy.
Sleep takes him.
Claude opens his eyes.
He stands in the Paradise.
No pain.
No wounds.
His body feels whole again.
He picks up the wooden sword nearby.
Without wasting time, he begins to practice.
Each swing is precise.
Measured.
Correct.
As the blade cuts through the air, faint prompts appear.
(Basic Sword +1)
(Red Crane Sword +1)
He continues.
Again.
And again.
No fatigue.
No strain.
Only repetition.
Today's battle fuels him.
The memory of being pushed to the edge sharpens his resolve.
For the next few days, he cannot practice the breathing technique.
Though it appears simple, it strains muscles and internal organs.
With his current injuries, even a small mistake could worsen his condition.
So he trains like this.
Methodically.
Relentlessly.
Time passes.
Hours slip by.
Then,
"Brother!"
Claudia's voice rings out.
Claude turns.
She runs toward him and crashes into him.
He catches her.
She clings to him.
"I tried to sleep for hours," she says quickly. "I even counted dragons up to seven hundred, but I couldn't sleep. Only after meditating did I finally fall asleep."
Claude understands.
She wanted to come here.
He gently releases her and steps back.
"Look," he says, "I am fine."
Claudia looks him over carefully.
"But your body is bandaged outside," she says.
"They are only superficial wounds," Claude replies. "They will heal in a few days."
She hesitates.
Still unsure.
But she nods.
Claude smiles slightly.
Then asks, "What did you learn today?"
Claudia's face lights up immediately.
"Brother, I learned a spell today, and I finally became a Dream Magic Apprentice."
Claude's eyes brighten.
"Show me."
Claudia nods eagerly.
She steps back.
Raises her right hand.
Opens her palm.
Her small face tightens in concentration as she begins murmuring.
Claude watches closely.
He does not want to miss anything.
Then,
A panel appears above her head.
(Status: Claudia)
Claude focuses.
The panel opens.
Name: Claudia
Follower:
Level: Magic Apprentice (1)
Condition: Healthy
Strength: 0.88 (0.91)
Agility: 0.8 (0.85)
Constitution: 0.78 (1.02)
Spirit: 2.49 (2.52)
Skills:
Steel Needle: (01/1000)
Technique:
Steel Heart Meditation (Stage 1): (02/100)
Claude watches as Claudia's spirit begins to decline, slowly dropping until it reaches 0.90.
Then,
Runes form along her fingers.
They glow faintly.
One by one, they connect, weaving together into a small array hovering before her hand.
A sharp point of light condenses at its centre.
A steel needle forms.
In the next instant, it shoots forward.
Her Steel Needle skill increases by +3.
Claude observes everything carefully.
At the same time, his eyes linger on another detail.
Her condition.
Healthy.
No curse.
A quiet breath leaves him.
Relief.
But it also brings confusion.
If she is not cursed…
Then how did he become cursed?
It is not from their family.
The thought lingers only briefly before his attention returns to her.
Claudia turns and runs toward him, her face bright with excitement.
"Brother, did you see my spell?"
Claude smiles.
He reaches out and rubs her head playfully.
"Claudia has become powerful," he says. "Now she will protect me."
She laughs softly.
They play for a few moments.
A rare lightness between them.
Then Claude steps back.
Returns to his training.
His wooden sword rises again.
He resumes his practice.
Steady.
Focused.
Beside him, Claudia continues practising her spell, repeating the process, her small face full of determination.
Time passes.
Hours drift by in the stillness of the Paradise.
Then,
Another presence appears.
Greg.
He materialises within the space.
Without hesitation, he drops to his knees.
"God," he says, his voice strained, "save my brother."