It had been little more than a dozen brutal minutes since they entered the building—and started fighting. The first-floor walls lay in ruins, shattered by the shockwaves from Alaric and Ren's relentless clash. Scorched, blackened patches marred the ground—burn marks similar to those seared into Ren's own body.

Across the rubble-strewn floor, the two fighters stood facing each other. Blood streaked their lips, dripped from open wounds, soaked into their tattered clothes. Any ordinary human would have collapsed long ago.

"You're going to die if this keeps up," Alaric said through clenched teeth. His eyes flicked briefly to Thomas—assessing his condition—before locking back onto Ren. "Why don't we stop this?"

Ren flinched. Even the air hurt—his scorched skin screaming with every breath of wind. But his gaze never left Alaric's.

"Who… are you?" he hissed.

That was all he wanted to know now.

"Again?" Alaric scoffed, stepping closer to Ren.

Stopping just a meter away, he said, "Instead of asking who I am, you should be asking why we're even fighting. A fight over manpower isn't worth anyone's life."

His voice was calm, but his eyes remained cold. He hadn't forgotten that Ren had severed Thomas's hand just minutes ago. Still, despite the blood and destruction, Alaric's intent was clear—he wanted to end this before it escalated. He might have been Nova's general, but he wasn't Nova himself. He had his own judgment, he didn't want any pointless death.

And if it meant letting this man walk away, so be it.

Ren stood silent for a moment. He'd felt Alaric's strength firsthand—and knew his chances. He could either drag this out and hope for an opening… or win by sheer luck, which seemed far from reliable.

Besides, was there even a real reason for this fight? No blood feud, no deep grudge. Sure, he'd taken Thomas's hand—but that was a temporary loss. With self-Regeneration or the right item from the Store, it could be easily healed.

This didn't have to end in death.

The longer Ren stayed silent, the more the others focused on him—Alaric, Jack, and Thomas, their gazes fixed and expectant.

Conflicting thoughts churned in Ren's mind. Part of him wanted to rush to Sophia, to demand answers. But another part—the prideful one—refused to back down, not to someone who wasn't either of them.

Just as he parted his lips to speak, Jack's head snapped to the side, caught by the flicker of movement beside him.

Colin.

Daggers raised, eyes locked on Thomas, a twisted smile creeping across his face.

"NO! THOMAS!" Jack shouted, throwing himself forward on instinct. Placing himself between the daggers and his friend.

His cry jolted Alaric and Ren to attention. They turned just in time to see Colin's daggers descending, so fast they barely registered the motion—nothing but a blur of steel.

Alaric's eyes widened—not from the attack itself, but from the realization that there was someone else in the building.

Ren's shock, on the other hand, came from a different place. He had been ready to end the fight, to walk away.But now... Colin had made that impossible. The moment those daggers struck, any hope of a clean exit vanished.

Colin had just started a war.

This was exactly why no one wanted to work with him. He didn't follow plans, didn't respect alliances. He only took orders from the leader or the vice-leader—and ignored everyone else.

Both of Colin's daggers plunged into Jack's chest as he stood in front of Thomas, shielding him from what would have been a fatal strike. Thomas froze, eyes wide in disbelief, horror reflected in his gaze.

Colin's grin faltered. Then, with a derisive snort, he raised his daggers again and struck downward.

"JACK!" Thomas screamed, the cry tearing from his throat as he watched the daggers fall once again.

Alaric tensed, instinct screaming at him to move—but it was already too late. Even at full speed, he would never reach them in time. Colin was simply too fast.

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Beside Alaric, Ren didn't even flinch—let alone try to stop Colin. Of everyone present, he knew Colin best. There was no point in rushing in now. With a slow, tired sigh, he simply watched.

Jack, still reeling, stared at Colin's face in disbelief as the neared him. Who the hell even is this guy? he wondered, breath caught in his throat.

But just as the blades came within millimeters of Jack's skin—mere heartbeats from striking—a hand shot out from behind Colin, clamping around his neck like he was nothing more than a chicken.

"Now I even look like a real hero."

The voice rang out, light and almost casual—completely out of place with the chaos around them. And it didn't belong to any of the five currently present people.

Alaric and Thomas both exhaled in quiet relief the moment they heard it. Jack, however, remained frozen in shock. Even with wounds burning and blood soaking his shirt, the pain vanished as he looked up at that familiar face—emotions rising fast, crashing into him like a tide.

Ren, unfamiliar with the newcomer, could only watch as Colin thrashed in the man's grip—kicking and flailing like a child throwing a tantrum, utterly powerless to break free.

"BOSS!"

"NOVA!"

Alaric and Thomas shouted in unison. But their relief was quickly tempered by the sight before them—Nova, standing tall, his spear in one hand, his body drenched in blood as if he'd just waded through a battlefield.

Ren's eyes narrowed as Alaric rushed forward, urgency in every step.

"Boss, what happened?!" he asked, voice filled with concern. This was the first time he had seen Nova covered in so much blood.

Nova snorted, his breathing a touch uneven. "What happened?" he echoed, eyes flashing. "You're lucky you managed to hold out this long—or someone would already be dead."

His gaze slid to Jack, locking eyes with him past Colin's dangling body.

Then, turning back to Alaric, his tone hardened.

"I sprinted from Quarath to here in under ten minutes," he said, voice sharp with reprimand. "Because someone only realized there was danger after walking straight into this hellhole. This—" he gestured around at the wreckage and blood, "—is the result."

Nova's grip on Colin tightened, muscles taut with restrained fury.

"Next time, either contact me sooner… or get strong enough that I don't have to come at all."

Before entering the building, Alaric had quietly sent a message to Nova—just a gut feeling, a whisper of unease.

Nova hadn't hesitated.

Driven by a mix of curiosity about the opposing group and wanting to protect his friends, he pushed himself to the limit. Drawing on every ounce of speed he possessed, he went even further—amplifying his movements with the use of wind Mana particles, forcing his body beyond its current natural limits. With every step he took bones cracked under the strain, skin split open from the sheer velocity. He arrived in time, sure, but it took a heavy toll on him.

Now, flustered and guilt-ridden, Alaric nodded rapidly. "Yes, yes. I'm sorry. I know. Yes…"

"Luckily, you made it just in time," Thomas said, offering a shaky smile.

Nova gave a faint grin in return, then let out a performative sigh. "If someone hadn't been slacking on their training while trying to take over Altura, none of this would've happened."

His eyes met Jack's for a fleeting moment before flicking away, the corners of his mouth curling into a smug smile.

"Bastard…" Jack muttered under his breath, his fists clenching despite the pain. Although he said that inwardly he was pleased with his friend. He just didn't want to show it to him.

Nova exaggeratedly waved Colin around like a ragdoll in the air as grunts of pain escaped the latter's lips. His voice grew increasingly theatrical with every word.

"Aii, these kinds of people were about to kill you? Pathetic."

He abruptly stopped the motion, then tapped Colin's body with the butt of his spear.

"Remember," he said, his tone turning sharp and mockingly serious, "this one nearly ended you."

The statement hung in the air like a blade—half taunt, half warning.

From a distance, Ren stared, eyes wide, mouth slightly agape. He couldn't believe what he was witnessing. At first, he had considered fleeing when he saw Colin captured. Now? He wasn't even sure he'd be allowed to leave unless given explicit permission.

Nearby, Jack clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white, blood dripping from his mouth and open wounds on his chest.

"Fucker," he growled, voice strained, "cut the shitty theatrics. What the hell are you going to do with those two?"

His glare shifted between Colin and Ren.

The room fell silent. Even Ren's breath hitched as everyone leaned in—ears perked up, waiting for Nova's reply.

At Jack's question, Nova let out a quiet chuckle, then lowered his head slightly—feigning deep contemplation. In truth, he had already made up his mind the moment he laid eyes on the two.

From the corner of his eye, he watched Ren, whose face was steadily draining of color with each passing second.

When he'd had his fill of silence, Nova finally spoke.

"I'll take these two," he said casually, "and use them to train my subordinates."

Both Colin and Ren visibly tensed. Their expressions fell, but neither dared protest. Not to him.

Jack frowned. "Are you sure? They're part of a bigger organization. There might be stronger people behind them," he warned, while Alaric, nearby, wrapped fresh bandages around his wounds as his Regeneration slowly kicked in.

"Organization?" Nova echoed, his tone distant.

Then, something clicked.

'Yesterday… I tossed someone into a cell who said something similar. Maybe they're connected.'

A grin tugged at the edge of his lips.

'Perfect. I'll throw these two in the cell next to that one. If they're allies, they'll talk. If not… I'll still find out.'

The idea began to take shape—simple and efficient.

Still gripping Colin like dead weight, Nova casually walked over to a nearby wall. Without urgency, he raised his spear and began carving words into the stone with precise, deliberate strokes:

ORGANIZATION! IF YOU WANT THESE TWO BACK, COME TO QUARATH.

Beneath it, he etched a detailed description of the headquarters' exact location.

Stepping back to admire his work, Nova smiled. "Perfect. If someone wants them, they can come and pay some money. Until then…" —his eyes flicked to the two prisoners— "I'll squeeze as much value out of you as I can."

Colin and Ren exchanged a glance, both too stunned to speak.

The same thought echoed in their minds:

Who is this monster?

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