Chapter 12: Red

The cold from the stone walls seeped insidiously through the thick fabric of his coat, pricking Long's bare back like thousands of icy needles.

Yet, that chill could not invade his front, where a soft source of heat lay curled up against him. Lia buried herself deep into his broad chest, her steady breath ghosting over his feverish skin. She slept soundly, completely relaxed, as if the deep, rhythmic thumping of the heart beneath those solid muscles was the only lullaby in this place of death.

Long's large hand gently pulled the coat higher, covering her small shoulders. The tenderness of the gesture stood in stark contrast to the look in his eyes.

His pupils had constricted into sharp, vertical slits, fixed intently on the four strangers lying motionless in the distance. His ears twitched, filtering every whistle of the wind, ready to tear apart anything that dared to crawl out from the darkness.

...

"Where... where am I?"

Ragged gasps tore through the silence. Darkness, thick as tar, clung to the heels of a young boy running frantically forward.

He ran, ran for his life toward a faint speck of light at the end of the tunnel. But the moment his fingers brushed against that halo of salvation, reality shattered.

The acrid stench of burning wood assaulted his nostrils, instantly choking him. Searing heat blasted his face like a splash of acid. Before his eyes, wooden houses groaned and collapsed into a roaring sea of red fire.

"Gah!"

The boy jolted awake, his chest heaving violently. His eyes snapped open, staring wide at the cold, dark stone ceiling of the cave.

Instinctively, his gaze darted to the left. His blood ran cold. A massive black shadow was sitting right next to him, silent as a boulder.

What met his eyes was not a human face, but a round, sleek, pitch-black head that reflected his own terror.

A scream tore from his throat, shattering the heavy atmosphere:

"MONSTERRRRR!!!"

The boy sprang up like a coiled spring, scrambling backward in panic until his back hit the stone wall. His eyes remained fixed on the helmeted shadow, unblinking, while his hands clawed frantically at the cold ground, searching for anything to use as a weapon.

His numb fingers, frozen by the bone-chilling cold, suddenly grasped a strange object.

His fingertips sank into a soft sphere, elastic enough to bounce slightly under the pressure. A wave of heat radiated through the thin fabric, transmitting straight into his freezing flesh—a stark contrast to the deathly cold of the dungeon floor.

He froze.

His neck turned stiffly, clicking like rusted gears. Cold sweat poured down his body as his brain processed the curvature and softness of what he was gripping.

The owner of that "sphere" had been awake for some time.

What met his eyes was lustrous golden hair, but more prominent were the pointed ears jutting out from the locks—the left one torn and jagged. A thin scar ran across a fair cheek, adding a lethal edge to the pair of blue eyes now burning with fury.

"Son of a bitch."

The female voice hissed, sharp and curt.

Thwack!

Without a single wasted movement, the girl launched a lightning-fast uppercut. Her fist connected squarely with the black-haired boy's jaw, sending him flying backward, blood spurting from his nose.

Long stared blankly at the boy who had just been knocked unconscious. He reached out an arm to catch him, but his movement was halted in mid-air.

A sharp dagger suddenly blocked his path, its tip pointed straight at the black visor of his motorcycle helmet.

The muscles on the golden-haired girl's arm tensed, her voice hissing through gritted teeth, filled with wariness:

"What the hell are you? Human or monst—"

Whoosh!

Her sentence was cut short by the sound of tearing wind. Her wrist was suddenly twisted upward by an invisible force.

The dagger slipped from her numb fingers, shooting straight up to the ceiling and embedding itself—thud—into the solid rock, the handle still vibrating violently.

The Elf girl froze. Not because she had lost her weapon, but because an invisible pressure, heavy as mercury, was crushing down on her, causing cold sweat to ooze from every pore.

From the giant's embrace, the snakeskin coat slipped down.

A sleepy, slurring voice rang out, yet it carried a killing intent that sent chills down the spine:

"Hey, you ragged Elf..."

Lia lifted her head, her black hair cascading down. Her violet eyes glowed like two phosphorescent will-o'-the-wisps, menacing in the dark.

"How dare you point that toy at me... and my darling?"

Boom!

Without lifting a finger, an explosive shockwave blasted the Elf girl backward.

Her back slammed hard into the rough stone wall. An invisible force pinned her limbs against the rock face, displaying her like a butterfly specimen, suspended a meter above the ground.

"Urk..."

The girl's throat bobbed with difficulty under the invisible pressure crushing her chest.

Impossible... A mage? And a telekinetic one at that? Hah... looks like my luck has run out.

As the thought of surrender crossed her mind, a black shadow suddenly tore through the air, launching itself from the floor.

It was the black-haired boy who had been knocked out just moments ago.

Thud! Thud!

He kicked off the narrow opposing walls, using the momentum to propel himself upward in a zigzag pattern like a wall-crawling lizard. The force of his kicks was so terrifying that the stone face cracked, sending small debris flying with each jump.

In the blink of an eye, he was hanging upside down from the ceiling, his fingers gripping the handle of the dagger embedded deep in the rock.

Even while pinned to the wall, the corner of the Elf girl's mouth quirked up in a calculating smirk.

That's right... No matter how powerful a mage is, they need focus. Divide her attention... Take her life, Lucas!

Like a predator perfectly in sync with its pack, the moment his fingers tightened around the dagger, Lucas coiled his legs and kicked off the ceiling.

Boom!

Borrowing the recoil, his body shot down with the speed of a cruise missile, the sharp blade slicing through the air, aimed straight at the head of the girl radiating that violet killing intent.

Clang!

A harsh metallic sound rang out, sparks flying. The deadly blade was stopped just inches from Lia's face by a stark white shield made from a snake skull.

Giving his opponent no time to retract the dagger, Long's thumb decisively pressed the crude switch built into the shield's handle.

Pop!

A high-intensity flash burst forth like a flare exploding in the dungeon's darkness, searing the retinas of the attacker at point-blank range.

"Aaaaaah!"

Lucas screamed, dropping the dagger and clutching his eyes in disorientation. Losing his momentum, he free-fell to the stone floor.

Thud!

Before he could recover, a massive weight crushed down on him. Lucas's lungs were compressed until he couldn't draw a breath, every muscle fiber feeling like it was about to be pulverized under Long's immense weight.

As the white spots in his vision began to fade, the first thing he saw was the pitch-black, emotionless face of a motorcycle helmet pressing close to his own, cold and dominating.

Long pinned Lucas to the stone floor, easing the pressure slightly to let the boy breathe, then opened his mouth to explain:

"Hey, listen to m—"

The sentence was choked off before it could leave his throat.

Every muscle in Long's body suddenly went rigid, contracting like a bowstring about to snap. The heart in his chest pounded violently, each beat heavy as a sledgehammer striking his ribs.

On the other side, Lia wavered. The invisible killing intent had severed her concentration, causing the telekinetic field to vanish instantly. The Elf girl dropped to the floor, coughing violently as she gasped for air.

"Please... let my companions go."

A deep, warm voice resonated, not loud, yet carrying an authority that seemed to thicken the very air in the dungeon.

Long turned his head slowly, his vertebrae clicking painfully under the invisible pressure.

The man he had carried out like a sack of cargo earlier was now awake, standing tall. In the dim light, his physique was massive and muscular, like a god of war carved from stone. His long, fiery red hair glowed like a living flame amidst the gloom.

He opened his eyes.

Irises as red as molten lava bored straight into Long.

Long swallowed hard. A suffocating pressure enveloped his body, making him feel as though he were standing before the maw of a true dragon, not the hybrid snake he had just killed.