Chapter 10: The Man Who Made Me Dream

Fourteen years ago the elves—renowned for their strength yet unwillingness to fight—were slaughtered. Their once-thriving civilization was reduced to ashes, their bodies scattered like fallen leaves. The perpetrators? A group that August Magnus had once called his own.

Steel clashed as August and King met in battle, their weapons colliding with explosive force. Sparks erupted, casting fleeting glimmers of light across the cavern walls.

August pushed King back, creating a momentary gap between them. "Talk to me. Explain yourself," he demanded, his voice firm.

"There's nothing to explain, August Magnus—Human Dwarf of New Pegasus!" King bellowed.

"Who is this guy, August? And what's a Human Dwarf?" Adrian asked, watching from a safe distance.

"I don't know," August admitted, his grip on his axe tightening. "But he's a problem."

King moved like a lion circling its prey, his longsword glinting under the dim cavern light. Then—he struck.

With blinding speed, King lunged, his blade slicing through the air, aiming for August's head.

August barely ducked in time, the attack so close that a lock of his hair was severed and sent drifting to the ground. Wasting no time, he retaliated with a swift, brutal kick to King's stomach.

King staggered back, clutching his abdomen. Yet, despite the pain, he advanced again, his fury unwavering. Strike after strike, he tried to pierce August's defenses, but the warrior deflected every attack with precise movements of his axe.

"I don't know who told you that nonsense, but we didn't kill your clan," August said between parries. "The elves were our allies."

King snarled. He didn't care.

He planted his right foot forward, using his trailing left to propel himself toward August with blistering speed.

Adrian, standing at a distance, watched in growing unease.

Why does this man hate August so much?

Then another thought struck him—he hardly knew anything about August. That realization unsettled him more than the battle itself.

King suddenly shifted tactics. With a powerful strike, he locked August's axe down, driving it into the ground.

August's eyes widened.

Seizing the moment, King thrust his sword forward, aiming for August's heart.

"Unfortunately for you," August muttered, "it won't be that easy."

The ground beneath them trembled.

The sudden quake threw King off balance. His strike missed its mark, slicing into August's right abdomen instead.

"Well… that didn't go to plan," August murmured, glancing down at the wound.

His legs gave out. He collapsed to the ground, King's sword still embedded in his flesh.

King refused to let up. He pressed down, forcing the blade deeper.

"You dare hold back against me?!" King roared, his voice thick with rage.

August coughed, blood dripping from his lips. "What kind of adult fights a child at full strength?" he muttered, a weak grin forming despite the pain.

King's fury boiled over. He pushed the blade in further.

Adrian watched, paralyzed by fear. His heart pounded.

I can't beat him. I should run.

"Hey, Adrian!" August's voice, though strained, cut through his doubt. "I told you—we're going on an adventure, and we will."

Adrian clenched his fists.

He struck his own legs to force them into action. Terror gripped him, but he refused to stand by any longer.

King finally acknowledged his presence, turning toward him.

"And who are you?"

Adrian inhaled deeply, then shouted, "I am Adrian Frihet! And I am… his friend!"

King scoffed. "Then you're a criminal, just like him."

Adrian tightened his grip on his sword.

Power surged through his body as he activated his ability, enhancing his physical strength beyond human limits.

King made one mistake.

For just a moment—he blinked.

And in that moment, Adrian was already upon him.

What speed! King barely had time to react.

Adrian swung his blade with immense force. King raised his sword just in time to block, but the sheer power of the strike sent him skidding backward.

"August! Use whatever strength you have left—collapse the cave!" Adrian shouted.

August, barely conscious, reached for his axe. His vision blurred, but he gritted his teeth and tightened his grip.

With a final surge of strength, he struck the cavern walls.

A deafening rumble filled the air.

Rocks and debris cascaded from above, creating an impassable barrier between them and King.

"You won't escape me, August Magnus!" King roared from the other side. "Now that I know you're here, I will find you! You will pay for your crimes!"

King clenched his fists, his frustration palpable. Destroying the rockfall could collapse the entire cavern—he needed another plan.

Meanwhile, on the other side, Adrian struggled to carry August, but the older warrior's blood flowed freely.

"Damn it," Adrian muttered, lowering him gently. He tore the sleeve of his sweater and wrapped it tightly around the wound, but it wasn't enough.

Tears welled in his eyes.

"What am I supposed to do?" he whispered.

Then—footsteps echoed behind him.

His breath hitched.

Is it him again?

Sweat trickled down his forehead as he slowly turned—

And saw a girl in a red cloak.