"He's dead, they're dead, she's safe—he'll die first."The voice was light, almost musical, coming from a white-cloaked figure crouched on a rooftop. He pointed lazily at the shadows below, where figures scurried and hid.Then he laughed. "Idiots."
The man beside him didn't smile. He wasn't worried for himself—or even the people below. He was worried for the ones about to suffer. Quietly, he prayed for them.
Above, the clouds thickened, snuffing out the faint light of the half-moon. Shadows ruled the streets now, and the mercenaries below had no idea just how well they were being watched.
Down on the street, a little girl trembled before a towering man. Her dress was torn, her face dirty, and her small frame made her look like a street thief.
"Where is it?!" the man barked for the fourth time.
The object he sought was clutched tightly in her hands, hidden behind her back. She stayed silent, feigning ignorance. He already knew she had it—but tormenting her gave him pleasure.
His childhood had been nothing but pain, so now, he found joy in passing it on.
"Come on, little girl... Where... is... it?"
"I... I don't—"
Smack.
The slap cracked through the alley. The girl crashed to the ground, her face burning with pain. Her heart raced as she fought back tears.
She staggered to her feet, one eye swollen shut, the other spilling tears. Her head spun, and she dropped to her knees again, sobbing.
In her hand was a necklace—one that belonged to the little prince, her closest friend. The men chasing her didn't care about the necklace; they wanted the prince. But how could she have known? To her, the necklace was precious. Losing it meant losing his trust.
That thought kept her moving. But her strength was fading.
I can't let them have it.
She couldn't see well in the dark alley. Not the man in front of her, nor the dozen others behind him. Grit dug into her sandal, and she winced. Her arms and legs were scraped from the chase, and the cold wind bit at her exposed skin. Her tangled hair clung to her face, heavy with dust and sweat.
He gave it to me. They want it. I can't—
"Help..." she whispered without thinking.
"What was that?!" the man snapped, stepping closer.
The girl froze.
"Look at me when I'm talking to you, or I'll slap the hell out of you! Where is it?!"
He grabbed her shoulder and yanked her head up by the hair.
"I don't know!" she screamed, choking on her sobs.
He growled. "That's not the way to answer, is it?"
A flash of lightning illuminated his face—and she froze in terror.
He was bald, with the thickest eyebrows she'd ever seen. A jagged green scar slashed through his brow and eye, giving the illusion of rotting skin. The other eye was sickly green, the color of vomit. His face was a roadmap of scars. His nose looked crushed. His beard was thick and filthy, and when he smiled, she saw yellow, crooked teeth.
Her silence wasn't what enraged him—it was her gaze. Her wide eyes traced every flaw on his face. He could feel her judging him, even if she didn't mean to. Her stare sliced deeper than any insult.
His rage boiled over.
Crack.Another slap, harder than the first.
She hit the ground with a thud. Pain flared across her face and rippled through her bones. Her fingers scraped the floor, trying to find balance. She wheezed as tears and blood mixed on her lips.
Her chest heaved with shallow breaths, each inhale burning as humiliation and hurt twisted within her. A single tear escaped, trailing down her face and mixing with the metallic taste of blood on her lips.
Still, she didn't cry out. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction—but the ache in her heart swelled, suffocating any words she might have spoken.
"Ugly brat," he sneered. "You think you're pretty? I'll fix that."
He drew a small dagger. "Bring her here."
One of his subordinates grabbed her, but before he could move her, something cold touched his arms and blood spurted from his cleanly cut arms
"AH!!!!" His screams were gut-wrenching. The place went silent and everyone was in shock.
His attacker, the little prince, stood before them, his eyes cold with a frightening calm.
"Hell's blade," he whispered and a dark sword appeared in his little hand, a direct contrast to his pale skin.
As he walked forward, his purple eyes glinted in the night, suppressing the dozen people who surrounded him. He couldn't care less about them as he opened his mouth once again.
"Tenebrous breath," He exhaled.
A dark ball of smoke came from his mouth, exploding outward. Those who were caught in the blast fell to the ground, coughing blood as they gripped their throats, clawing their necks.
One after the other, their bodies went rigid, but their eyes remained open and one could see they still had a bit of life in them, but that little essence disappeared as their bodies burst into black smoke.
The few that remained stood alert, prepared to fight the boy but he wasn't where he had stood. A scream drew their attention but it ended abruptly as the boy pulled out the sword.
Without a second to spare, he disappeared again. Another dropped dead.
They never saw the attacks coming.
He blinked in and out of existence, cutting through them like shadows in the wind. Within seconds, the alley was painted in blood.
Only the leader remained. Desperate, he grabbed the girl and pressed his dagger to her throat.
"One more step and she dies!"
The silence was loud as they all stood there unmoving. Once again lightning flashed and the boy and girl made eye contact. It was subtle, but the man noticed it, the tense look in the boy's eyes. His face grew into an ugly smile.
"I swear I'll cut her head off if you move! I don't care if you're royalty!"
The little prince didn't mind and took a step forward.
"I'm warning you!!" He pressed the dagger closer. Her breath was caught in her lungs as a small red line appeared on her neck. Tears were flowing again as her fear intensified.
"Abyssal transfer," The boy whispered.
The man blinked. "What—?"
The girl's body suddenly shifted. Her form seemed heavier. Before he could react, something slammed into his chin, sending him stumbling back. . A tooth fell out.
A second blow struck his back, hurling him to the floor.
He quickly got to his feet.
"Impossible," he said under his breath.
The girl had switched places with the boy. He sensed something approaching him and dodged just in time to avoid the large sword embedded in the ground.
He's fast
Using his senses, he located the boy and threw something at him, but that was just a distraction.
"It's too late," he said with a wicked grin. "I hit her with a poisoned dart. Better get her help—if you care." He grinned, knowing the boy would take the bait.
"That man's an idiot," the white cloaked man said to his subbordinate. "Why would you make yourself more likely to die? What an idiot."
"Sir, should I help?"
"No. We're only spectators. If we act now, we change too much."
"Understood," But it was obvious he was itching to do something.
Below, the leader smirked. But the boy's expression didn't show fear—it showed rage.
Crystals erupted from the ground, forming a wall between them.
The man waved his arm, firing shards at the prince. But the boy leapt into the air, flinging his sword in return. It bounced harmlessly off the shield of crystals, but the man realized then that this wouldn't last against the boy.
Knowing he was at a disadvantage, he desperately searched for a chance to turn the tables.
The girl stirred again. "Perfect," he whispered, launching a dart. She gasped, fainting once more. The prince flinched—but didn't move.
"She's hurt," he whispered.
"Good."
The man slashed again, sending more crystal daggers. The boy vanished into black mist.
The man probed the area. No sign.
Out of fear, he summoned more crystals from the ground, increasing his defense.
Something was rushing towards him and he saw it just in time to control the crystals to move over to receive the impact.
Whatever it was disappeared instantly, but he was sure of the size, a palm. He felt it again, an unsettling shift behind him. The crystals jerked into position to block, but nothing landed.Then came the pain. A slash tore into his back, hot and sudden.He spun instinctively, just in time to feel another cut—this one slicing across his chest.Staggering, breath sharp, he turned to find the boy still rooted in the same spot.His legs reacted before his mind could; the ground cracked as he launched backward, heart hammering.Yet the boy didn't pursue. He just… watched.
Then he rushed forward. The man attempted to block, but the boy slipped past him. Another hit from behind. Then a cut across his shoulder.
SNAP.
His sword hand dropped limp, cut clean.
The hunter was now the prey.
He barely had time to draw breath before the boy's face appeared inches from his own—and then came the pain, blooming deep in his chest.His expression twisted in agony as he reached for the blade—only for his hand to pass through it like smoke.The boy spun and drove a kick into his chest, sending him sprawling. Blood sprayed from his lips as he crashed to the ground.Before he could even groan, the boy was there again, towering over him like a shadow."Plea—"The sword plunged into his chest, silencing him mid-beg.The boy frowned as he slowly twisted the blade."You can eat your food right away," the child said, voice dripping with venom, "or play with it first."