Chapter 23: Vance vs Drak 2

The air in the Ruins was thick with tension, the gathered crowd of refugees and council members forming a wide circle around Vance and Drak. The golden light of the setting sun filtered through the cracks in the ceiling, casting long shadows across the stone pathways. Vance stood tall, his silver soul pulsing brightly in front of him, its light reflecting off the determined glint in his eyes. Across from him, Drak cracked his knuckles, his sharp-toothed grin widening as he rolled his shoulders, ready for the fight.

"You really think you can take me, kid?" Drak sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. "You're just a human with a shiny toy. I've crushed monsters twice your size."

Vance didn't respond. His focus was razor-sharp, his mind clear despite the adrenaline coursing through his veins. He had fought before, but never against someone like Drak—someone who thrived on brute strength and intimidation. Vance knew he couldn't match Drak's raw power, but he didn't need to. He had something Drak didn't: strategy, and the unwavering resolve to protect those who couldn't protect themselves.

The crowd fell silent as Toriel stepped forward, her voice calm but firm. "This battle will decide the fate of the refugees. Vance has challenged Drak to a duel. If Vance wins, the refugees will be allowed to stay in the Ruins under the council's protection. If Drak wins…" She paused, her gaze flickering to Vance before continuing. "Drak and his group will leave peacefully, and the refugees will follow their own path."

Drak let out a bark of laughter. "Peacefully? Oh, I'll leave, all right. But not before I teach this brat a lesson."

Vance's silver soul pulsed brighter, its light casting a faint glow across the stone floor. He took a deep breath, steadying himself. This wasn't just about winning. It was about proving that strength wasn't just about power—it was about heart, determination, and the will to do what was right.

"Let's get this over with," Drak growled, his claws flexing as he lunged forward.

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Drak moved faster than Vance expected, his massive frame barreling toward him like a freight train. Vance barely had time to react, diving to the side as Drak's claws slashed through the air where he had been standing moments before. The force of the attack sent a gust of wind rippling through the crowd, causing some of the smaller monsters to stumble back.

Rolling to his feet, Vance gripped his old wooden staff tightly. His silver soul pulsed, flickering with energy as he analyzed Drak's movements. Over the past few weeks, he had honed his magic skills, experimenting with the staff's latent abilities. Though unpolished, he had begun to manifest spells, channeling his emotions into controlled bursts of energy. He knew he couldn't rely on brute strength alone—Drak was simply too powerful. He had to outthink him.

Drak turned, his red eyes narrowing as he smirked. "Not bad, kid. But you're gonna have to do better than that."

Vance didn't waste words. Instead, he took a deep breath, raising his staff as silver energy coiled around its surface. He had been practicing elemental magic, and though it wasn't perfect, now was the time to put it to the test.

With a swift motion, he pointed the staff toward the ground. "Glacius!"

A thin wave of frost spread outward, coating the stone floor beneath Drak's feet. The monster lunged, but his movement faltered as the sudden slickness caused his claws to slip. Seizing the moment, Vance twirled the staff and slammed it into the ice.

"Fulgur!"

A sharp crackle erupted as a thin arc of electricity surged through the frozen surface, racing toward Drak. The electricity snapped through the air, shocking his opponent and causing him to stumble backward, shaking off the numbing sensation.

Drak snarled. "Alright, magic tricks it is, then."

Vance barely had time to register the warning before Drak lunged again, his claws slashing through the air in a devastating arc. Vance ducked, rolling under the attack, but Drak anticipated it. The monster twisted mid-swing, catching Vance with a powerful backhand.

Pain exploded in his ribs as he was sent flying, skidding across the stone floor. His staff clattered beside him. Vance gritted his teeth, and his silver soul flickered weakly. He had to keep going.

The battle became a deadly dance. Vance weaved and dodged as Drak's claws tore through the air. His silver soul pulsed with each movement, its light growing brighter as he tapped into its power. He had learned to use its invincibility frames—brief moments where he was untouchable—to his advantage. Timing it perfectly was risky, but it was his only chance.

Drak roared in frustration as Vance narrowly evaded another strike, his claws slamming into the ground, sending cracks spiderwebbing across the stone. "Stand still, you little pest!"

Vance spun his staff, channeling energy into its core. He focused, recalling a spell that he had struggled with before. Now was the time to make it work.

"Ventus Lancea!"

A spear of condensed wind magic erupted from the tip of his staff, shooting toward Drak with rapid speed. The blast struck Drak's arm, forcing him back a step. It wasn't strong enough to take him down, but it created an opening.

Seizing the moment, Vance dashed forward, feinting left before ducking under Drak's swing. With a sharp exhale, he extended his staff, its silver aura intensifying. "Lucem Orbis!"

A sphere of light formed at the staff's tip before bursting outward, momentarily blinding Drak. The monster growled, shielding his eyes. Vance capitalized on the distraction, delivering a quick series of blows to Drak's side before jumping back, narrowly avoiding a retaliatory swipe.

Drak shook his head, his vision clearing. "You're starting to annoy me, kid."

Vance smirked despite the pain coursing through his body. "Good."

As the battle raged on, something began to change. Vance's silver soul, once a steady glow, began to pulse erratically, its light growing brighter and brighter. He could feel it—a surge of energy, a power he hadn't tapped into before. It was as if his soul was responding to his determination, his resolve to protect the refugees and stand up to Drak.

Drak noticed it too, his smirk faltering for the first time. "What the hell…?"

Vance didn't have time to question it. He could feel the energy building, his silver soul reaching its peak. He knew what he had to do.

Drak lunged forward, his claws aimed straight for Vance's chest. It was a finishing blow, one that would have ended the fight if it connected. But Vance didn't move. Instead, he stood his ground, his silver soul glowing brighter than ever.

The moment Drak's claws made contact, the silver light erupted, enveloping Vance in a blinding aura. Drak's attack was rendered useless, his claws passing harmlessly through Vance as if he were made of air. The invincibility frames of Vance's silver soul had activated at the perfect moment, nullifying the attack.

Drak stumbled back, his eyes wide with shock. "What… what is this?"

Snarling, Drak refused to accept defeat. He raised his massive axe, its dark metal glistening as a shadowy aura spread around him. With a roar, he swung the weapon, but instead of simply slicing through the air, the axe split into multiple shadowy replicas, each one soaring toward Vance like a relentless barrage.

Vance barely had time to react. He twirled his staff, summoning a silver shield of energy to block the incoming attacks. The shadow axes clashed against the barrier, sending tremors through the ground. Some managed to slip past, forcing Vance to dodge rapidly, his breath coming in sharp gasps.

Then, the battlefield darkened.

A suffocating black mist billowed from Drak's form, shrouding the entire arena in a dense fog. Vance's vision was swallowed in darkness, the crowd's murmurs fading into an eerie silence. He tensed, gripping his staff tighter. This wasn't just any fog—it was a spell designed to disorient, to blind him completely.

Drak's voice echoed through the void. "Let's see you dodge what you can't see."

A chill ran down Vance's spine. He closed his eyes, focusing on his other senses. The faintest whisper of movement reached his ears—a disturbance in the mist. He spun just in time, parrying an axe strike aimed at his back. Sparks flew as metal met magic.

Drak kept attacking from the shadows, using the darkness to his advantage. Vance struggled to keep up, barely managing to block and evade. A sudden strike slipped through his defenses, slashing across his arm. He hissed in pain, staggering back.

The crowd, though unable to see through the dark mist, could feel the intensity of the battle. Gasps and worried murmurs rippled through them. Was this it? Was Vance losing?

Drak smirked. "You're outmatched, kid. Just give up."

But Vance refused to surrender. Taking a deep breath, he pressed his injured arm against his chest and focused on his silver soul. He had learned something during his training—his soul's light wasn't just defensive. It could cut through illusions, dispel darkness itself.

Gritting his teeth, Vance slammed his staff into the ground. "Lumen Purge!"

A pulse of silver energy exploded outward, shredding the darkness like paper. The mist dissolved instantly, revealing Drak mid-swing, his expression caught between shock and fury.

Seizing the opening, Vance dodged the axe at the last second and retaliated. He spun his staff, channeling the energy within. "Astrum Impetus!"

The air crackled as silver energy spiraled around the staff's tip before exploding forward in a concentrated beam of light. The blast struck Drak square in the chest, sending him hurtling backward. He crashed against the stone floor with a resounding thud, dust and debris scattering from the impact.

The audience erupted into cheers and gasps, the tension finally breaking. Some had thought Vance was done for, but now they looked at him with awe and newfound respect.

Drak grunted, glaring up at him. "You got lucky, brat."

Vance exhaled sharply, exhaustion weighing down on him. "Maybe. But this fight is over."

Drak huffed before letting out a short chuckle. "You're not half bad."

Vance lowered his staff, his silver soul flickering weakly. He had won, but he knew this was only the beginning. His magic was growing stronger, but there was still so much he had to learn. One thing was certain—he would keep fighting, keep improving.

Because the next time an enemy came, he would be ready.

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Drak glared up at Vance, his red eyes burning with anger and humiliation. He bared his teeth, breathing heavily, his massive frame still tense from the battle. But he knew—he had been beaten. His pride was wounded, but he wasn't foolish enough to keep fighting when the odds had turned against him.

With a low, venomous growl, he pushed himself to his feet, his movements slow and unsteady. Dust and debris still lingered in the air from their clash, the stone floor beneath him cracked from where he had landed. His claws curled into fists, but he knew there was nothing more he could do. Not now.

"Fine," he spat, his voice thick with resentment. "You win, kid. But this isn't over."

Vance stood his ground, gripping his staff tightly. His silver soul had dimmed after the intense fight, his energy nearly spent, but he didn't waver. He met Drak's glare with calm determination, saying nothing as the larger monster turned away.

Drak's gaze swept over the refugees, his own gang, and the crowd of Ruins monsters who had watched the entire battle unfold. He hadn't cared about their stares before, but now, standing in the aftermath of his humiliating defeat, their expressions finally seemed to register.

Their hostility was undeniable.

Monsters who had remained silent during his boastful threats now looked at him with thinly veiled disgust. Some muttered to each other, their hushed voices thick with disdain.

"How pathetic," one whispered.

"Acted all high and mighty, but look at him now," another scoffed.

Drak's claws twitched at his sides, his tail flicking in agitation. He wasn't used to being on the receiving end of such open contempt. Back in his territory, he ruled with strength and fear, his presence alone enough to keep others in line. But here, he was nothing more than an outsider—a bully who had failed to intimidate his victims.

And he hated it.

With an irritated snarl, he turned to his men. "We're leaving," he barked, his tone sharp and demanding. He expected them to move immediately, to obey without hesitation.

But they didn't.

A few exchanged uneasy glances. Some shifted awkwardly, their eyes flicking toward the Ruins monsters, whose numbers far outmatched their own. Even Drak's most loyal enforcers could feel the tide turning. They weren't in their own territory anymore, and their leader's defeat had drained much of their bravado.

Still, after a moment's hesitation, they fell in line. One by one, they started backing away, moving toward the exit as if eager to escape the hostile stares that followed them.

Drak gritted his teeth, but he said nothing as his gang began to retreat.

Then his eyes landed on Susie.

She stood at the edge of the crowd, her arms crossed over her chest. She had been silent since the battle's conclusion, watching everything unfold with an unreadable expression.

Drak's lips curled into a sneer. "Susie," he growled. "You're coming with us."

The demand was absolute—an expectation that she would obey without question, as she always had.

Susie flinched, her claws twitching at her sides. For a moment, it looked like she might listen, might fall into the same pattern she had her entire life.

But then something shifted.

She straightened her shoulders, lifting her chin as if finding a strength she hadn't realized she had.

"No," she said.

The word was small, almost quiet. But it was firm.

Drak blinked, his eyes narrowing. "What did you say?" His voice was low, dangerous.

"I said I'm staying," Susie repeated, her voice stronger this time. "I'm done following you, Dad. I'm done being treated like I don't matter."

A hush fell over the crowd.

The refugees, the Ruins monsters, even Drak's own gang—all eyes were on Susie now.

Drak's expression twisted with something ugly, a mixture of disbelief and fury. "You think you have a choice?" he snarled. "You belong with me. You're my kid, my blood. You don't get to decide where you stay."

Susie clenched her fists. "I do. And I'm not going with you."

Drak took a threatening step forward. "You ungrateful little—"

"Enough."

Toriel's voice rang through the air like a sharp chime, cutting through the rising tension like a blade.

She stepped forward, placing herself between Susie and Drak with an authority that was both gentle and unyielding. Her golden eyes, warm yet firm, locked onto Drak's with quiet power.

"You have already overstepped your bounds," she said, her voice calm but carrying weight. "You came here, uninvited, to threaten those who sought only peace. You tried to take what is not yours, to force your will upon others. And now, even in defeat, you dare to demand obedience from a child who has made her choice?"

Drak clenched his jaw. "She's my daughter."

"And she is her own person," Toriel countered, her gaze unwavering. "She is not an object for you to control."

Drak let out a frustrated growl, but before he could snap back, another voice joined Toriel's.

"She's not going anywhere, Drak."

Vance stepped forward, standing beside Toriel. His grip on his staff tightened, and though he was exhausted from the battle, his stance remained strong.

"You lost," Vance said. "And that means you don't get to decide anything anymore. Susie's staying here because she wants to. And if you try to force her, you'll have to go through me."

Drak's eyes flicked between them, his face contorting with rage. For a moment, it looked like he might try something, might lash out in some desperate show of power.

But then a murmur from the crowd stopped him.

"Pathetic."

A single word, muttered by a monster near the back, but loud enough to cut through the silence.

Drak stiffened.

The looks of contempt had only grown. The Ruins monsters, the refugees, even some of his own men—none of them respected him anymore.

He was a coward. A brute who barked orders but tucked his tail when things didn't go his way.

Drak's claws flexed, his breathing ragged, but he knew he couldn't win this. Not against the sheer number of monsters staring him down. Not after the humiliation he had already suffered.

With one last furious glare at Susie, he spat, "Fine. Rot here for all I care."

Then, without another word, he turned on his heel and stomped toward the exit.

His men hesitated, but none dared to defy him. They trailed after him quickly, their steps hurried as if eager to be away from the judging eyes of the crowd.

The tension in the air lingered for a moment, but then, as Drak and his gang disappeared into the darkness, a collective exhale seemed to pass through the Ruins.

Susie let out a shaky breath, her claws still curled into fists.

Vance turned to her. "You okay?"

She hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah… I think I am."

Toriel placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "You made the right choice."

Susie swallowed hard, blinking rapidly before looking back toward the exit where her father had left. "Yeah," she murmured. "I know."

For the first time in a long while, she felt free.

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As the tension in the air began to dissipate, Vance let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. His silver soul flickered faintly before fading entirely, leaving him feeling drained but relieved. He turned to Susie, who was still standing at the edge of the crowd, her arms crossed as if trying to hold herself together.

"Hey," Vance said softly, walking over to her. "You okay?"

Susie didn't respond right away, her gaze fixed on the ground. Finally, she let out a shaky breath and nodded. "Yeah. I think so."

Vance smiled, though it was tinged with exhaustion. "You did the right thing, you know."

Susie glanced at him, her yellow eyes narrowing slightly. "Don't get all sappy on me, human. I just… couldn't keep living like that."

Vance chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Fair enough. But still… I'm proud of you."

Susie's cheeks flushed slightly, and she looked away, muttering something under her breath that Vance couldn't quite catch. But he didn't press her. He knew she needed time to process everything.

As the crowd began to disperse, Toriel approached, her expression a mix of pride and concern. "Vance, that was… incredible. But are you all right?"

Vance nodded, though he could feel the exhaustion weighing heavily on him. "I'll be fine. Just need some rest."

Toriel smiled, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "You've done more than enough for today. Go and rest, my child. We can discuss everything tomorrow."

Vance nodded, his gaze drifting back to Susie. "What about her?"

Toriel followed his gaze, her expression softening. "She is welcome to stay with us, of course. We will make sure she is taken care of."

Vance smiled, relief washing over him. "Thanks, Toriel."

As he turned to head back to the house, Susie fell into step beside him, her arms still crossed but her posture less tense than before. Vance didn't say anything, letting the silence between them speak for itself. For the first time in a long time, Susie felt like she had a chance at a new beginning—and Vance was determined to help her every step of the way.

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With Drak and his gang finally gone, the atmosphere of the Ruins brightened considerably. It was as if a heavy weight had been lifted from the shoulders of the monsters who had been living in fear. The once-tense crowd began to move with purpose, their hushed murmurs turning into hopeful chatter.

The planned group of helpers, who had initially been forced to put everything on hold due to the battle, finally resumed their work. Monsters of different shapes and sizes stepped forward, eager to assist in escorting the refugees deeper into the Ruins. Now that the oppressive rule of Drak had been cast off, those who had lived under his tyrannical leadership were finally being given a chance at something better.

Toriel, ever the compassionate leader, took charge of organizing the efforts. She addressed the gathered refugees, her warm and motherly presence bringing comfort to those who had known only hardship.

"You are safe now," she reassured them. "Here, we will ensure that each of you has a place to call home, food to fill your bellies, and work that allows you to contribute to this community. No one will be left behind."

A murmur of gratitude spread among the refugees. Some wiped tears from their eyes, overwhelmed by the kindness being shown to them after so many years of suffering. Others embraced one another, whispering words of relief and excitement for what lay ahead.

The Ruins residents who had offered to help wasted no time. Monsters worked together to guide the newcomers to temporary shelters, offering them fresh food and clean water—things they had been deprived of for too long. Plans were already being made to integrate them into the Ruins' daily routines, assigning them tasks based on their abilities and interests. Those who were skilled in crafting were brought to the artisans, while others with farming knowledge were taken to assist with food production. Even those with little experience were given tasks to help keep the community running smoothly.

Watching all of this unfold, Vance couldn't help but feel a deep sense of satisfaction. Despite the hardships and battles, something truly good was coming out of this. The Ruins, once a place filled with sorrow and lingering regrets, were now becoming a beacon of hope for those who had nowhere else to go.

Susie stood beside him, watching in silence. Her expression was unreadable, but there was a certain softness in her eyes that hadn't been there before.

"This is different," she muttered. "Back in Drak's gang, it was always about survival. No one cared about helping each other unless it benefited them."

Vance nodded, understanding all too well what she meant. "This is how it should be," he said. "A place where people help each other, not just because they have to, but because they want to."

Susie huffed, crossing her arms. "Yeah, yeah. Don't get all mushy about it."

Vance smirked but didn't tease her further. He knew that deep down, she appreciated it just as much as he did.

Toriel approached them, her gaze sweeping over the bustling Ruins. "It is a beautiful sight, is it not?"

Vance nodded. "Yeah… it really is."

He took one last look at the monsters working together, at the refugees finally finding peace, at the hope that was taking root in this forgotten place.

"This is just the start," he said, his voice filled with determination. "The start of a better future for all of them."