Draven's gaze shifted toward the table.
Toward the book resting there.
Its worn leather cover caught the faint candlelight, unmoving amidst the tension.
"Or we don't need to find a weak point at all," he said calmly. "We can create one."
Aldric's grin widened slightly.
Draven turned to Vaelith.
"Be ready to move immediately on my signal. The moment you hear it, you leave the town without stopping."
Vaelith lowered her head in quiet obedience.
"Yes, my lord."
"Take the most direct path out. No hesitation."
His eyes shifted to Lyriana.
"You follow her."
She met his gaze steadily.
"If anyone steps in your way," Draven continued evenly, "or sees you—kill them. No warnings."
Lyriana nodded once.
"Understood."
Then Draven looked at Aldric.
"You're coming with me."
His gaze slid toward the cultist.
"You too."
Aldric blinked.
"Me? Obviously," he said. "But why her?"
The cultist bowed her head slightly.
"Yes, my lord."
Aldric scoffed and gestured dismissively toward her.
"Only I'm enough to deal with whoever showed up," he said confidently. "I don't know why you want to bring her. She'll just be a burden."
Draven's expression did not shift.
"We'll use her as a hostage."
Silence lingered for half a second.
Then Aldric tilted his head thoughtfully.
"…Hmm."
A slow smile crept across his face.
"That might actually work out well."
The cultist stiffened faintly but said nothing.
Draven walked toward the door.
His red eyes glinted dimly beneath the shadow of his hood.
"We'll give them a reason to focus elsewhere."
Outside, armored footsteps echoed faintly through distant streets.
The net was tightening.
Draven placed a hand on the door.
"Get ready."
He glanced at the cultist.
"Can you disguise yourself," he asked calmly, "or do you intend to do this with your real face?"
She did not argue.
A faint circle of runic light shimmered beneath her feet. Mana folded inward around her form, reshaping posture, facial structure, even the tone of her skin. Her shoulders narrowed. Her hair darkened. Her features softened into something utterly forgettable.
In seconds, she looked like an ordinary town girl—brown hair, dull eyes, plain features that would never linger in memory.
Aldric stared at her.
His expression twisted with visible disgust.
"That's the best you could come up with?" he scoffed. "You look painfully average."
She adjusted her sleeve without responding.
Draven turned toward the door.
"Let's go."
Aldric reached up and deactivated his magic item.
The illusion cloaking him dissolved like mist under sunlight.
His true form surfaced—skin pale as bleached bone, sharp aristocratic features, pointed ears, crimson eyes glowing faintly beneath burgundy hair that shifted in the wind.
The air around him seemed to cool instantly.
The three stepped outside.
The street was no longer peaceful.
Aldric's gaze lifted toward the sky.
"…Yeah," he muttered. "They're not guessing."
Above the town, five massive airships hovered in tight formation—armored hulls reinforced with steel plating and inscribed with glowing arrays. The insignia of the kingdom gleamed along their sides. Light arrays swept across rooftops and streets below in disciplined arcs.
Knights filled the town.
On the streets.
On the rooftops.
At every intersection.
Too organized.
Too prepared.
"They're way too ready for this," Aldric continued. "This isn't random."
Draven remained silent.
A nearby knight spotted them.
"You—what are you doing out here? You need to—"
He stepped closer.
Then paused.
His eyes locked onto Aldric's face.
Pointed ears.
Crimson eyes.
Bone-white skin.
Recognition dawned instantly.
"You're a—"
His hand flew toward the communication crystal at his waist.
He never finished.
Aldric vanished.
One blink—
He was gone.
The next—
He stood directly in front of the knight.
A hand shot out, gripping the man by the collar and yanking him forward with brutal force.
The knight's eyes widened in shock—
Aldric's fangs sank deep into his neck.
There was no hesitation.
No restraint.
He drank.
Deeply.
The knight's body convulsed for only a few seconds before going limp, life draining from him with terrifying speed.
Aldric released the husk carelessly.
The dried corpse struck the stone with a hollow thud.
He licked the remaining blood from his lips.
"…Ah."
A satisfied exhale escaped him.
"Let the party begin."
He raised one hand toward the sky.
Mana surged violently from his body, thick and suffocating.
Above them—
The air warped.
Twisted.
Then—
One spear formed.
Then two.
Then ten.
Dozens of crimson spears condensed from blood-infused mana, hovering ominously overhead like a suspended execution.
On the airships—
Signal lights snapped toward their location.
Brilliant beams cut through the darkness and locked onto them.
Alarm horns began to blare.
Messages transmitted rapidly between vessels.
Knights shifted formation instantly.
Boots thundered across stone as squads converged from multiple directions.
Aldric grinned widely.
"Now this," he said, flexing his fingers as more blood spears materialized above him, "is more like it."
Draven stood motionless beside him, cloak swaying lightly in the wind stirred by rising mana pressure.
The distraction had begun.
The town had officially become a battlefield.
Draven did not look at Aldric.
"You understand what we're supposed to do, right?"
Aldric cracked his neck once, grin widening further.
"Create a distraction," he replied. "Yeah. I'm on it."
His raised hand clenched—
And the blood spears launched.
They tore through the night sky like crimson lightning, shrieking as they split the air.
One slammed into the underside of an airship—
The explosion of ruptured plating echoed violently across the town.
Another pierced straight through a glowing mana engine—
A burst of fire and cascading sparks rained down as the vessel tilted dangerously, alarms wailing from its decks.
Knights shouted.
Formations fractured.
More spotlights locked onto Aldric.
Draven's cloak snapped sharply in the shockwave.
"Then I'll leave her to you," he said calmly.
And without waiting for a reply—
He vanished.
Aldric blinked.
"…Huh?"
He turned his head slightly as another wave of knights charged toward him, blades drawn, shields raised.
"Oi—!"
A second airship fired a concentrated beam of condensed mana downward.
Aldric sidestepped lazily as it carved a molten trench through the street where he had been standing moments before.
Stone liquefied.
Heat rippled outward.
He clicked his tongue.
"That brat just dumped her on me?"
He shot a brief glance toward the disguised cultist standing several steps behind him.
She remained silent, posture steady despite the chaos.
Knights closed in from three directions.
Blades gleamed.
Orders were shouted.
Magic circles began forming in the air.
Aldric exhaled slowly.
Then his smile widened.
"…Fine."
More blood spears formed overhead—thicker now.
Denser.
More violent in their aura.
The sky above him darkened with crimson intent.
"Guess I'll just tear this place apart properly."
He flicked his wrist.
The next volley launched—
And the night erupted in absolute chaos.