The night air was cold, yet Lucien's blood ran hotter with every second. His eyes, sharp and unreadable, fixated on the figure standing a few meters away. The streetlights barely illuminated them, but Lucien could already tell—this was no ordinary opponent.
The silence between them was tense. Neither moved.
Then, without warning—
A blur of motion.
Lucien twisted his body just in time to evade a strike aimed at his ribs. The Hidden Figure moved with trained precision, their attacks fluid and calculated. A sharp kick came next, cutting through the air, but Lucien blocked it effortlessly, countering with a strike of his own.
The Hidden Figure dodged, their body moving like a shadow.
"Vermilion Oath's finest, huh?" the figure finally spoke, their voice distorted by a mask. "You move just like they do."
Lucien didn't react. He remained unreadable, his body slightly lowered in a fighting stance.
Another attack—this time, faster and more aggressive.
Lucien deflected a dagger swipe, twisting his opponent's wrist in an attempt to disarm them. But the figure countered with a sudden knee strike, forcing Lucien to release his grip. They separated again, their breaths slow and controlled.
Lucien's mind worked fast. Who is this? How do they know about Vermilion Oath?
The Hidden Figure took a step back, tilting their head slightly. "You're not as sharp as the rumors say. Holding back?"
Lucien's eyes narrowed. He didn't answer.
Instead—
He attacked.
A powerful forward step, a feint, then a brutal punch aimed at their stomach. The Hidden Figure barely evaded it, but the impact grazed their ribs, sending them staggering back.
Lucien didn't let up.
His footwork shifted as he closed the gap in an instant. A spinning kick cut through the air, forcing the Hidden Figure to block. The impact sent them skidding backward.
For the first time, their stance wavered.
Lucien exhaled slowly. "Done running?"
But the Hidden Figure suddenly flicked their wrist—
Smoke bomb.
Lucien's reaction was instant. He covered his nose and eyes, but the thick smog disrupted his vision. By the time the air cleared—
The figure was gone.
Lucien scanned the surroundings. No movement. No footsteps.
But then, he saw something.
A small engraving on the brick wall beside him.
Three words, scratched in hurried strokes:
"The chains are breaking. Red Fang is rising."
Lucien's eyes darkened.
Red Fang.
A name he hadn't heard in a long time.
His fingers traced the engraving as his mind reeled. This wasn't random. Whoever this was—they had a message to send.
Lucien reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone.
He scrolled to a contact without a name. A number only used for emergencies.
The call connected after two rings.
Silence.
Only faint breathing on the other end.
Lucien's voice was calm, but edged with something dangerous.
"Red Fang is moving. Someone knows."
There was a long pause. Then, finally, a distorted voice answered:
"Stand by for further instructions."
The call ended.
Lucien lowered the phone, his expression unreadable.
For a moment, he just stood there, alone in the dimly lit street.
Then, slowly, he turned away, disappearing into the night.
---
End of Chapter 16.