“What are we going to do, Juliet?” Henry whispered. “I just reviewed the Whisper Fang.”Juliet didn’t look worried. She tapped his shoulder lightly. “Don’t worry. They won’t say a word. They already know what I’m capable of.” Her voice softened. “Fight safe, Henry. Like I told you before—you’re family now. I don’t want to lose you.”She had been alone for years. She had never let anyone this close. Yet something about Henry felt different—unfamiliar, unsettling in a way that made her protective. Losing him wasn’t an option.As Juliet passed the guards, their bodies stiffened. Fear crept into their bones. They had already decided to leave the moment the match began.A weapon like the Whisper Fang was no ordinary bow. For an unknown fighter to possess it meant only one thing, he was dangerous.'So this is how my life ends' one of the guard thought, his hands trembling. He knew the secret now. And secrets like this didn’t leave witnesses.'I should’ve been born blind' the other guard th

Thousands of spectators stared down at the dueling ground, their mouths hanging open, eyes wide with disbelief. Just moments ago, the noise had been deafening—cheers, jeers, the pounding of feet against stone—but now, it was as though the entire crowd had forgotten how to breathe.Francis lay sprawled across the bloodstained floor.His chest rose and fell violently, each breath sharp and uneven. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, staining his chin as he coughed weakly and tried to push himself up. His arms trembled, refusing to obey him, and after a few seconds of struggle, he collapsed back onto the cold stone with a dull thud.'What just happened…?'His vision swam as fragments of the last few seconds replayed in his mind—him stepping forward, his fist cutting through the air toward Henry’s face, the certainty of impact, and then nothing.Just darkness, pain, and the floor rushing up to meet him.'I was winning' Francis thought desperately. 'I was sure of it. I threw my pu

The rock bullet skimmed past the air with terrifying speed.For a fraction of a second, Francis didn’t even realize what had happened.Then pain exploded across the side of his neck.The stone grazed his flesh, tearing through skin and muscle before burying itself somewhere beyond him. Blood burst free instantly, hot and heavy, streaming down his collar and soaking into his armor.[-30 HP][HP: 20/50]Francis staggered back as if the world itself had suddenly tilted. His face drained of all color, his knees buckling beneath him. One hand flew to his neck, fingers coming away slick and red. The warmth frightened him more than the pain itself.He could feel his strength draining rapidly, each heartbeat pushing more blood out of his wounded body. His breath became uneven, sharp gasps ripping from his chest as panic crept into his eyes.“Time to end this,” Henry muttered under his breath, he selected a single rock bullet, weighing it briefly in his palm before setting it into the leather

The street was still alive with noise—families talking, footsteps brushing past one another, distant laughter blending into the evening air. Moving quietly among them was Silver.She wore a long black robe that concealed her entire body. Hidden beneath the folds of the fabric, pressed close to her side, was a small squirrel.Clack.The sound of a door opening reached her ears just as she stopped in front of it. Silver glanced left, then right, making sure no one was watching. After a brief pause, she nodded to herself, gently pushed the door open, and slipped inside.Darkness swallowed her almost immediately.The only light came from a single flame torch mounted on the wall. Every other surface that might have reflected sunlight was covered with thick cotton cloth. The place smelled old—stale air, dust, and something long forgotten.It was an abandoned bar.Shelves of different sizes lined the walls, filled with bottles whose labels were buried beneath layers of dust. The wooden walls

Henry’s footsteps echoed sharply against the tiled floor as he hurried down the corridor.Juliet followed a few steps behind him, her brows drawn together in confusion. She had noticed the way his shoulders were tense, the way his breathing was uneven, as though he were running from something invisible.“Why are you running so fast?” Juliet asked, her voice calm but edged with concern.Henry didn’t answer. He pushed open the door to the resting area and rushed inside.The resting room was spotless—almost unnaturally so. The walls were painted a clean, sterile white, free of stains or cracks. Soft light flowed evenly from the ceiling, reflecting off the polished floor. Along one side of the room stood three identical doors, each leading to a private toilet room.Henry didn’t pause to take any of it in.*Knock.* He knocked once on the first door, sharp and urgent, then immediately tried the handle. It didn’t budge.“It’s locked,” he muttered under his breath.From inside, an irritated