Chapter 13: Black

"Grandpa."

The childish voice rang out amidst the scent of straw and dry earth in the chicken coop behind the house. The silver-haired man, carefully placing warm eggs into a basket, turned to look at his small grandson clutching a bamboo grocer's basket nearby.

"What is it, my dear?"

The boy hesitated for a moment, his large, round eyes looking up. "Have you ever... been afraid of anything? I feel like you aren't scared of anything at all. Even that cobra the other day, you caught it as easily as picking up a toy."

Hearing this, the old man chuckled, the wrinkles around his eyes crinkling kindly. He placed the last egg into the basket and patted the boy's head.

"Afraid? Of course... I fear many things. I fear losing my loved ones. I fear old age making me too weak to protect you..."

As he spoke, he looked up at the ceiling, where a gecko was clinging tightly to a wooden beam. His gaze suddenly grew distant, his voice dropping to a low murmur.

"But if we speak of the creatures in this world... there is one thing that truly terrifies me. That is... a Dragon."

...

The warm memory shattered, returning Long to the cold, harsh reality of the dungeon.

Before him now, burning in the darkness, was a pair of blood-red eyes. The pupils of the red-haired man were not round like a human's; they were contracted into vertical slits, sharp and predatory—the distinct trait of a reptile.

Is it a Dragon?

The pressure radiating from the man weighed down like mercury, crushing every fiber of Long's muscles. However, his sharpened instincts detected no killing intent. The man was strong, but he did not wish to slaughter. He was waiting for a reaction.

He was being polite.

Understanding the unspoken message, Long took a deep breath, suppressing the combat instinct screaming in his blood. He slowly released his grip on Lucas's throat, rose to his feet, and dusted off his hands as if he had just finished a trivial chore.

Arwen pushed herself up from the cold stone floor, her chest heaving violently as she gasped for air after being crushed against the wall by the force field.

Her blue eyes darted around and locked onto a single point: Lucas's dagger, lying abandoned on the ground a few paces away.

Ignoring the pain throbbing through her body, she gritted her teeth, drove power into her heels, and lunged forward like a cornered beast.

Snap.

Her collar was suddenly yanked tight from behind. Arwen's body was jerked backward, her momentum brutally halted by a hand as solid as an iron clamp.

"Enough, Arwen."

Dangling in mid-air, her legs kicking wildly at nothing, Arwen twisted around frantically, glaring daggers at the red-haired man.

"Jack! Let go! There's a wizard over there! Are you blind? If we don't strike first, we're all dead!"

Jack remained perfectly calm. He lifted her slightly higher to stop her struggling, his deep voice resonating through the cave, crushing the Elf girl's panic.

"I said, enough. Open your eyes and look."

He jerked his chin toward the black-haired girl. Lia was now standing upright. Though her breathing was still unsteady, her violet eyes tracked their every move, her hands hanging loosely at her sides—she was casting nothing.

"Earlier, she pinned you against the rock face. If she wanted you dead..." Jack tightened his grip on Arwen's collar slightly as a warning, "...she would have snapped your neck right then and there, not waited for you to wake up and scream like this."

Arwen froze. The cold, hard truth hit her like a splash of ice water, extinguishing her battle rage.

Seeing his teammate regain her composure, Jack slowly lowered her to the ground. He turned to look straight at Long's black helmet and spoke slowly:

"From the start, they only blocked and contained. They showed us mercy."

"From the start?"

Arwen repeated Jack's words, her voice dropping to a dangerous octave.

Her foot, still hovering slightly off the ground, suddenly retracted—then delivered a precise kick straight into the man's right ribs.

"Urgh..."

Jack's massive arm flinched reflexively. He dropped the girl, hunched over slightly, his large hand clutching the spot she had just struck. A suppressed groan escaped through his gritted teeth.

"Easy with the foot... Rib number four isn't fully healed yet... you old hag."

Arwen's hand, which had been reaching out to support his shoulder, froze in mid-air. Her slender fingers twitched, hesitating.

But the moment the words "old hag" hit her ears, that hand clenched into a fist. Her leg swung up, delivering two more solid kicks to the captain's shins.

"Old hag my ass! I am only fifty years young!"

Arwen didn't stop there. She launched a flurry of kicks, punctuating each word with a blow to the captain's body.

"Awake... long... ago... why... didn't... you... help! Just lying there waiting to collect your teammates' corpses, were you?!"

Jack raised both arms to cover his head, backing away while trying to defend himself, his mouth running a mile a minute:

"Wait! Listen to me! The kid seemed decent. He arranged our limbs neatly, even stood guard against monsters while we were out, so..."

He took advantage of a pause in Arwen's assault to scratch his messy red hair, grinning sheepishly.

"I felt safe, so I... took a quick nap. My insomnia has been terrible lately; I can barely keep my eyes open."

Silence filled the cave for the span of a heartbeat.

A blue vein popped, throbbing visibly on the Elf's temple.

Wham!

Without another word, Arwen delivered a straight kick to the center of Jack's face.

The giant man tipped backward, his massive frame crashing to the ground like a felled ancient tree, lying stiff and motionless.

"Get up! Get up right now!"

The sound of boot heels thudding against hard muscle filled the air. Arwen kicked and muttered, her tone devoid of any sympathy:

"Don't play dead. Your skin is as thick as a buffalo's hide; this is nothing. Stop making excuses to sleep in."

A few paces away, Long stood rooted to the spot. His hand unconsciously reached up, gently smoothing down the messy strands of hair falling over Lia's face, but his eyes behind the helmet visor were wide open, bewildered by the scene of "internal abuse" unfolding before him.

"I'm Lucas."

A youthful voice rang out right next to him, making Long jump.

The black-haired teenager was sitting up. His long, curly hair hung down, obscuring half his face and his eyes, making it impossible to tell where he was looking. He sat with his knees pulled to his chest, calmly watching Arwen beat Jack as if he were watching a play in a theater.

Long paused for a beat, then responded awkwardly, trying to be as polite as possible:

"Ah... um... I'm Long. About earlier... are you hurt anywhere?"

Lucas leaned his back against the cold stone wall, shrugging nonchalantly.

"I'm fine. Just a bit sore."

He tilted his head, his curly locks swaying, gesturing toward Long's black head.

"Sorry for calling you a monster earlier. That... is just a helmet, right?"

Long suddenly realized the reason for the intense tension. He sighed, reaching up to his jawline to find the latch.

Click.

The lock sprang open with a crisp sound. Long pulled the black helmet off his head and gave it a slight shake.

Black hair, now freed, cascaded down like a waterfall, framing a face that was delicate to the point of being surreal. In the dim light of the dungeon, his skin was porcelain white, flawless and smooth. But the most captivating feature was his eyes—a brilliant emerald green with slightly vertical pupils, framed by long, sweeping lashes, creating a beauty that was both magical and dangerous.

The space suddenly fell silent.

"Tch."

Lucas clicked his tongue, breaking the silence. The teenager turned his face away, muttering with undisguised jealousy:

"Lucky bastard. What does this guy eat to look that good?"

Arwen also stopped tormenting her captain. Her eyes widened, staring blankly at Long for a moment. That ethereal aura and sharp beauty... for a second, she almost uttered the word "Kin."

Jack walked over, draping his arm naturally around Long's shoulders as if they were sworn brothers. Standing side by side, even though Long was tall, he was still a full head shorter than Jack.

"Hey, brother." Jack laughed heartily, his booming voice ringing in Long's ear. "Looking at this pretty-boy face... are you a noble or a scion of some wealthy family lost in here?"

Bombarded by the question, Long stammered:

"No... no, I'm just—"

Slap.

A small but forceful hand shoved Jack's massive arm off Long's shoulder. Lia wedged herself between the two men, bristling like a kitten protecting its territory.

"Who gave you permission to touch? Back off!"

Jack raised both hands in surrender, taking a step back, the grin on his lips widening.

"Alright, alright. Your wife is terrifyingly jealous."

...

While the commotion continued, Arwen suddenly remembered her duty. She hurried to the corner of the cave, where a small girl in a white robe embroidered with gold patterns was still unconscious.

"Lily! Wake up! You still alive, girl?"

Arwen shook her teammate's shoulder vigorously.

The girl named Lily's eyelids fluttered, then weakly opened. Her vision was still blurred with fog. But amidst the hazy images, the figure of a long-haired young man with a profile carved like a statue standing in the distance struck her eyes.

The heart in Lily's chest skipped a beat.

"Oh god..." she whispered, her headache seemingly vanishing into thin air. "Just my type..."