Mel followed the three men in tuxedos, forcing himself to sip the wine despite its sharp, bitter taste. He coughed, barely suppressing a grimace, but kept up his rich bravado. Stay composed. Act the part.

  “So… where exactly are we going?” he asked casually.

  One of the men smirked before shoving him into a pitch-black room.

  Mel stumbled forward. “Uhh… hello?! I’m scared of the dark!” He called out, his voice echoing. He spun around and banged on the door.

  Then, through the small, barred window, a face appeared—grinning, sharp-toothed, and eerily amused.

  “We know who you are, King Melanthius Shadowbane,” the man chuckled.

  Mel’s breath hitched, his body tensing. They know.

  “Where is Magnus?!” he demanded. “Where are the people you're selling?!”

  The three men outside the door only laughed, their voices merging in eerie synchronization.

  “This is the Red Tavern,” one of them said. “Spies don’t get out of here alive.”

  A loud click echoed, and the lights flickered on.

  Mel’s stomach dropped.

  The room wasn’t just large—it was a coliseum. Towering walls enclosed the space, and perched above him on grand velvet chairs were masked spectators, their jeweled masks glinting under the chandeliers. Their whispers reached his ears, laced with amusement.

  "King Melanthius is down there?"

  "They always spoil us."

  "Come on, rip him apart already—I spent thousands on this fight!"

  Mel barely heard them. His gaze locked on the creature in front of him.

  An enormous dragon—no, a Hydra. Nine heads. Each one the size of a carriage, its scales gleaming like molten obsidian. The beast turned its gaze on him, all nine heads snarling in unison.

  Mel’s legs trembled involuntarily. He stumbled back, slamming his fists against the door. "Let me out!"

  The men on the other side only laughed.

  "You’ll never escape from the inside. We don’t sell humans anymore," one of them taunted. "We sell mythical creatures… to kill humans. For entertainment."

  The Hydra reared back, its middle head letting out a deep, guttural growl that sent vibrations through the floor.

  Mel gulped. “Okay. Okay. Think.”

  Then, a thought struck him.

  "Shieka?" he called, his voice desperate.

  Behind him, the air shimmered, and a ghostly woman appeared, her form both ethereal and oddly casual—dressed in sunglasses and a vacation outfit.

  "Yeah? I’m on vacation." Shieka sighed, adjusting her shades.

  Mel grabbed her arm and pointed frantically at the nine-headed monstrosity in front of him.

  Shieka tilted her head. "I left you alone for two days, Mel. TWO. DAYS. And you got yourself into a gladiator death match?"

  The Hydra roared, making Mel flinch.

  "I’m not going back to that book!" Shieka snapped. "If you die, I’ll kill you myself!" She smacked him upside the head.

  "Ow!" Mel groaned, rubbing the spot. "Can you at least give me some weapons?!"

  Shieka let out an exasperated sigh, then reached into her pockets— pulling out legendary weapons like a character in a slapstick cartoon. Swords, spears, whips, throwing knives—all clattered in front of him.

  Mel lunged forward and hugged her. “If I die, you have full control of my body.”

  Shieka rolled her eyes, ruffling his hair like an annoyed older sister. “You’ll come back. Don’t worry.” Then, with a shimmer, she vanished.

  Mel barely had time to process her absence before a Hydra head lunged.

  A bolt of purple lightning crackled through the air, striking the ground where he stood. He barely dodged, rolling to the side as the stone floor sizzled. Another head rammed into his chest, sending him hurtling backward. His back slammed against the wall, and he coughed up blood.

  Before he could recover, a third head spewed a massive fireball at him.

  Mel reacted instinctively, yanking one of the swords from his inventory—a katana forged from pure water. The moment it clashed with the flames, steam erupted around him, shielding him for just a second.

  His grip tightened on the hilt as he slowly pushed himself to his feet.

  "Coming back to life hurts so much," he muttered, spitting out blood before dropping into a battle stance.

  The Hydra hissed. The audience leaned in.

  And the fight began.

  Althara sprinted through the bustling streets, her heart pounding. “Dammit, Mel! Where are you?!” she muttered under her breath. “You were right there in the restaurant—I turned for one second to tie my shoe, and you vanished!” Frustration mixed with worry as she scanned the sea of unfamiliar faces.

  Meanwhile, on the other side of the street, Ashley weaved through the crowd, adjusting her jaw mask. “Dammit, Dorian! Where did you go?!” she hissed, her eyes darting around. “You were literally in the alley—I turned to fix my mask, and now you’re gone!”

  Then—BAM!

  Neither of them saw the other coming. They collided hard, both hitting the pavement with a groan.

  Althara sat up, wincing as she adjusted her shades, making sure they still covered her violet eyes. Ashley rubbed her head, repositioning her jaw mask.

  “Ugh… Ow,” Ashley muttered before looking up. “Are you okay?”

  Althara sighed, pushing herself to her feet. “I’m fine… just lost.” She dusted off her clothes. “I’m supposed to be looking for someone, but I can’t find him anywhere.”

  Ashley groaned. “Tell me about it. For a guy like him, you’d think he wouldn’t just disappear like that.”

  Ashley narrowed her eyes and leaned in, studying Althara’s face. “Say… you look familiar.”

  Althara did the same, tilting her head. “You… also look familiar.”

  Both of them fell into thought, tapping their chins in unison. A long pause. Then—

  “…Never mind.” Ashley shrugged.

  “Yeah, never mind.” Althara shrugged back.

  Ashley crossed her arms. “Anyway, who are you looking for?”

  Althara sighed. “One of the only people I can trust.”

  Ashley nodded. “Same here.”

  “Well, I guess we should split paths then.” Althara turned to leave, and Ashley followed suit.

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  Just as they took their first steps away—whoosh!

  A spear came hurtling toward Althara. Before she could react, Ashley caught it midair. Another spear flew toward Ashley, but Althara swiftly conjured a dense cloud barrier, stopping it in its tracks.

  Slow, mocking claps echoed through the alley.

  Three men in tuxedos stepped forward, smirking.

  One of them turned to Ashley. “She’s the one who came with King Dorian.”

  Another glanced at Althara. “And she’s the one who came with King Melanthius.”

  Ashley’s head snapped toward the men. “King Dorian?! Where is he?!” she growled. Then, her gaze shifted to Althara. “You’re with King Melanthius? So he did come… Who are you?”

  Althara twirled the spear with expert precision, eyes blazing. “You know where Melanthius is? You’d better start talking. I already killed one bastard that pissed me off before.”

  Ashley arched a brow at the sudden shift in Althara’s mood, taken aback by the sheer intensity in her voice. But before she could react—

  One of the tuxedoed men leaped high into the air, diving straight toward her with a fist aimed at her skull.

  Ashley didn’t flinch. She spun on her heel and delivered a brutal kick to his chest mid-descent.

  CRACK!

  The man gagged, his eyes bulging. A second later, he doubled over, coughing up blood.

  Ashley stepped forward, her voice dropping dangerously low. “Like she said… where is Dorian? You’d better start talking.”

  Back in the Red Tavern, Mel crashed into the wall with a sickening thud. Before he could recover, one of the hydra’s heads reared back and blasted him with a freezing jet of ice. The frost encased his body in an instant—solid, suffocating, unyielding.

  CRACK!

  With a surge of strength, Mel shattered the ice with a cloud-powered punch, sending shards flying across the tavern. He gasped for breath, shaking off the lingering cold, and grabbed a spear made of iron. With a firm grip, he drove it into the floor, using it as a springboard to launch himself straight at the beast.

  Then—CHOMP!

  One of the hydra’s massive jaws snapped shut, swallowing him whole.

  “OHHH!” the crowd gasped, eyes widening in shock.

  For a moment, silence. Then—

  SHRRK!

  A blade sliced clean through the creature’s thick neck. Blood gushed as Mel burst from the severed head, flipping through the air before landing heavily on the ground. The hydra let out a deafening shriek, but in seconds, its head regenerated, snapping back into place as if nothing had happened.

  Mel hunched over, chest heaving. Sweat dripped from his face. His body ached.

  “Damn… I’m so tired…” he panted.

  Before he could react, another head lashed out like a whip, clamping its jaws around his leg.

  “AGH—!”

  With a violent jerk, the hydra flung him high into the air. He crashed headfirst into the ceiling, plaster and wood breaking around him, before his body went limp and plummeted downward.

  As he fell, another head slashed at his back, its claws raking through his skin. He hit the floor hard, the impact rattling his bones.

  Mel groaned, coughing as pain rippled through his body. His vision blurred. A shadow loomed over him.

  Through his hazy sight, he saw someone standing there.

  A familiar silhouette.

  His breath hitched.

  Dorian.

  Mel’s eyes widened, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten. He forced himself upright, heart pounding in disbelief.

  Dorian hesitated, then gave a small, almost reluctant smile.

  “Been a long time… Mel.”

  The words barely left his lips before Mel shoved him.

  “You bastard…” Mel whispered, his voice trembling.

  SMACK!

  Dorian’s head snapped to the side as Mel slapped him, his palm stinging against his skin.

  “You LEFT me.”

  Dorian didn’t move. Didn’t defend himself. He just bit his lip, his shoulders trembling as Mel’s fists struck his chest.

  Mel’s breath hitched, and suddenly, the anger cracked, giving way to something raw.

  Tears welled in his eyes. His fingers clenched into Dorian’s collar.

  “I was alone.” His voice broke. “Elowen was kidnapped. I needed you. I NEEDED YOU!”

  His knees buckled as sobs wracked his body, and before he could stop himself, he pulled Dorian into a tight hug.

  Dorian froze for a moment—then, with a ragged breath, he clung to Mel just as fiercely.

  “I know…” Dorian choked out. “I know. I’m a piece of shit friend. I was so jealous of you, so angry—and I let it turn me into everything we hated. My father died, and I… I didn’t know what to do, so I—” his voice cracked, “I became a damn dictator.”

  Mel buried his face into Dorian’s shoulder, his body shaking. “I needed you, man,” he whispered. “I needed you.”

  Dorian squeezed his eyes shut, guilt consuming him whole. “I’m sorry,” he breathed. His grip tightened. “I swear on my life—I’m so, so sorry.”

  Mel sobbed harder, neither of them moving, both lost in the weight of everything left unsaid.

  Mel wiped his eyes, blinking rapidly before his gaze darted to the door.

  “Wait! You opened it! We can escape—”

  His words trailed off as Dorian calmly shut the door again.

  “…Never mind.” Mel groaned, flopping back onto the ground.

  Dorian, oblivious to Mel’s exasperation, glanced up at the towering hydra. Its eighteen eyes gleamed with predatory malice, locked onto them like they were its next meal.

  “Okay… why is a mythical hydra glaring at us like that?” he asked. Then his gaze shifted to the masked figures watching from above. “And who the hell are they?”

  Mel let out a ragged breath, wiping the blood from his back. His limbs felt like lead, every inch of his body aching from battle.

  “I’ve been fighting this thing for forty-five minutes…” He exhaled sharply, then dropped to one knee. “Your turn.”

  With that, he collapsed onto the floor.

  Dorian rolled up his sleeves, stepping forward. “It’s okay, buddy. And if it’s not okay—” he cracked his neck, raising his dagger, “—I’ll help you until it is.”

  Facing the hydra, he twirled his vampiric dagger between his fingers. “Alright, big guy, can you stop trying to kill him?”

  The hydra responded the only way it knew how—by attacking. One of its heads lunged.

  Dorian’s blade flashed.

  With a single, precise slice, the hydra’s head fell to the ground.

  The beast shrieked in agony, but Dorian wasn’t finished. He charged forward, his movements a blur.

  “Thousand-Fanged Slashes!”

  His dagger became a whirlwind, severing every single head in a single, brutal instant.

  Silence.

  The hydra’s massive body collapsed with a thunderous crash.

  Dorian wiped a speck of blood off his cheek, unimpressed. “That was… way too easy.”

  Then—

  SHLORP!

  Before his eyes, the heads regenerated.

  Dorian’s expression turned deadpan.

  “…Fuck.”

  The hydra screeched, louder than before, its energy surging. Its scales gleamed brighter. It was evolving.

  One of its heads lashed out, clamping onto Dorian’s shoulder and hurling him skyward.

  Above him, the remaining heads twisted together, forming a swirling elemental sphere crackling with energy.

  Dorian’s eyes widened.

  “…Fuck.”

  The massive energy blast shot toward him at terrifying speed.

  Then—

  A purple blur streaked across the battlefield.

  Mel appeared in front of him.

  But he wasn’t normal Mel.

  He was in his purple smoke form. Tendrils of black lightning and cloud magic coiled around him, his eyes glowing like twin amethysts. He looked… different.

  Dorian’s breath caught.

  Mel didn’t even move.

  With a single glance, the energy ball split clean in half.

  The hydra’s attack dispersed into nothing.

  Dorian’s stomach dropped. This form…

  “Mel?” he called hesitantly.

  Then it hit him—this was the same form Mel had used against the wardens when he lost control and wiped them out.

  Except…

  “This version looks calmer,” Dorian muttered. “More… controlled.”

  The hydra wasn’t done. One of its heads shot forward, lightning crackling in its mouth.

  Before it could fire—

  BOOM!

  Mel’s hidden cloud kick tore through its skull, black lightning bursting from the impact. The hydra’s head splattered against the wall.

  Dorian barely had time to react before Mel turned to him, his voice layered—his own, plus two others. “D-Dorian…”

  Dorian stiffened.

  Mel’s hands clenched into fists, his body trembling. “My body is… constantly being fought over by my cloud magic and black lightning. This is the first time I’ve had control.” He gritted his teeth, panting. “I need you to stay out of my way so I don’t hurt you. But you have to attack the dragon, too.”

  Dorian’s eyes darkened. “Mel…”

  Mel’s body shook harder. “This form—it’s ripping me apart. I don’t have long before it completely destroys me.”

  Without warning, he cut his own palm with a sword. “Drink my blood.”

  Dorian stiffened.

  Mel’s smoky purple eyes burned into him. “Use your Vampiric Mimicry to match my attacks, like you did back in Eaglewood.”

  Dorian hesitated, staring at the blood trickling from Mel’s hand. Then, slowly, he brought it to his lips. The moment his fangs sank in—

  His body convulsed.

  His eyes turned the same smoky purple as Mel’s.

  Dorian shuddered as an entirely new power surged through his veins. Mel’s magic. His skill. It was overwhelming.

  He took a shaky breath, flexing his fingers.

  “…It’s a completely different taste,” he murmured.

  And with that—

  The two turned toward the hydra.

  Ready for round two.