Upstairs, the hallway was dim and silent.
Draven walked slowly, the wooden floor creaking faintly beneath his bare feet. The house felt still—too still—like it was holding its breath. The cat stood balanced on his head as if it had claimed the spot by right, tail flicking lazily from side to side.
In his arms, both babies were awake.
Elenya reached upward with her tiny hand, fingers stretching insistently toward his face.
Draven lowered his head slightly—
—and gently bit down on her small finger.
She burst into instant giggles.
Her tiny legs kicked in delight as he held her finger lightly between his teeth, her laughter soft and breathy in the quiet hallway. For a brief moment, the hard lines of his expression eased.
But his thoughts did not.
This is getting more dangerous.
Every step he took. Every town they entered. Every soldier that died.
It all tightened around them like a noose.
The bounty.
The mark.
The Church.
The Empire.
If they're near me… they're targets.
He turned and pushed open a door beside him. The hinges creaked softly as the bedroom revealed itself—simple bed, narrow window, plain dresser against the wall.
He stepped inside and shut the door quietly behind him.
If I'm being hunted, I can't keep them this close.
His jaw tightened.
If I keep carrying them like this… one mistake. One slip.
I might be the one who hurts them.
And that—
He couldn't allow.
I'm still too damn weak.
He moved toward the bed, steps slow and deliberate.
I need to get stronger. Quickly.
I won't let the same thing happen again.
Elenya pushed insistently against his cheek, demanding her finger back with a small, indignant sound.
He released it.
She pouted for half a second before grabbing at his collar instead, fingers tangling in the fabric.
Reaching the bed, Draven lay down carefully, positioning both babies against his chest. Elenya settled over his heart. Lucifer rested against his side, crimson eyes blinking up at him.
The cat shifted atop his head—
Then casually stepped down and planted itself squarely on his face.
Draven went completely still.
"…Get the hell off my face."
The cat did not move.
Its tail swayed lazily, brushing across his lips in deliberate defiance.
Draven's eyes narrowed.
Without warning, he opened his mouth and bit down on the cat's tail.
"MrrRRAAAOW!"
The cat shrieked and launched itself straight into the air, twisting mid-flight before landing neatly on Draven's chest beside the babies.
It hissed at him, back slightly arched, fur puffed.
Draven stared at it flatly.
Elenya dissolved into giggles again.
Lucifer blinked slowly—unimpressed, but curious.
The cat continued hissing, tail bristling in offended outrage.
Draven exhaled.
"…You started it."
The cat's ears flattened.
For a brief second—despite the bounty, the hunt, the mark burning faintly on his arm—the room felt almost normal.
Almost.
"I told you to get the hell off."
The cat responded with an indignant meow, tail swishing sharply back and forth.
Then—
A tiny hand shot up and grabbed it.
But this time it wasn't Elenya.
Lucifer.
He stared wide-eyed at the tuft of fur clenched in his small fist, the faintest blush creeping across his cheeks as if startled by his own boldness.
The cat froze.
"…Mrrrow?"
Its paw lifted and gently—almost awkwardly—pressed against Lucifer's face, attempting to push him away without unsheathing its claws.
Before it could free itself—
Another tiny arm latched onto one of its hind legs.
Elenya.
She made a delighted sound and tightened her grip.
Now the cat was stretched helplessly between two miniature tyrants.
"Mrrraow—!"
It wriggled frantically, dignity dissolving by the second.
The cat looked utterly betrayed.
Draven watched the entire scene in silence.
A small smile touched his lips—subtle, barely there—as he stared up at the ceiling.
For a moment, he let them struggle.
The cat pawed at Lucifer's face again.
Lucifer blinked slowly, still holding firm.
Elenya tugged harder.
The cat's tail puffed out in outrage.
Draven closed his eyes.
The smile faded.
Inside him, the pain was constant.
Mana folded over itself.
Again.
And again.
And again.
A continuous rotation—like forcing a storm into a tightening spiral, compressing it so it wouldn't detonate outward.
It still hurt.
It would always hurt like this.
He focused on it.
Observed it.
Studied the way it tried to spread. The way it resisted containment. The way it pressed against the boundaries of his body, threatening to tear him open from within.
I need to use it properly.
Not like this.
Not barely holding it together.
Not like a walking bomb.
If he was going to survive what was coming—the Empire, the bounty hunters, the princess, the mark—
He needed his own mana pool.
A real one.
Not this unstable, forcibly folded mass he was barely suppressing.
But the mana inside him now…
It wasn't even close.
Not even half of what he would need to attempt something like that.
He needed more.
More mana.
More control.
More strength.
His jaw tightened.
I can't protect them like this.
On his chest, the cat finally twisted free and leapt off the bed with a soft thud, glaring at the twins from the floor as if they had personally betrayed it.
Elenya giggled triumphantly.
Lucifer blinked again, his expression settling back into quiet calm.
Draven exhaled slowly.
His breathing evened out.
Fold.
Fold.
Fold.
The storm compressed tighter.
I need more mana.
And I need it soon.