Steven’s face paled at the sight that played before his gaze. His heart palpitated with an unfamiliar sense of dread, and his body shuddered, the remains of his once enjoyed sleep fading from his being to leave a stale, cold feeling in his stance.

He opened his mouth and only managed to mutter one deliberate word, the rest of what came out stammers that made no sense, "Favour..." He said, his hand slowly laying on the ground by his side, where she had been during the night and was no longer there.

Instead; a few feet away, at the midst of the cubicle, was the macabre scene that sent a sickening haze through Steven’s sight. It was Favour, the girl that had slept right beside him, now laid at the bottom of the cubicle, sitting unwillingly, with her head held in the ruthless arm of a man grasping her hair so tightly that some strands could clearly be seen torn free, falling from his ill-intentful hold. But more importantly was the detail that had Steven’s heart racing with vicious rage.

Favour’s throat had been slit cleanly, allowing thick layers of her warm blood to stream down from the opening. Her eyes weakly fluttered, and her lips opened and shut right back as she tried to mutter something, but with an injury that deep the only sound that came from her attempts was disabled, wet gurgling drowned in her own blood.

Steven’s face paled further, as his sight stretched to the man that had orchestrated this vile deed.

The man was clad in armour, someone Steven had not been expecting such an act from, of all people within the cubicle with him, and it was none other than Drake. The calm blond man now wore a twisted, eerily carved grin that curled up his cheeks in an insane, warped manner.

"Oh, you are finally awake, Steeve, I have a gift for you."

Steven frowned, staying silent as he tried to find the right words to say. He did not even know what to think, his mind racing through all that could have happened. Could Favour have attempted to attack him while he had fallen asleep, that was a possible outcome, but if it had been a battle he would have woken up long before it stretched to this level of brutality. This was something else entirely, and ruthless thoughts formed in his mind.

At this Steven opened his mouth and spoke, "you murdered her?"

Drake shook his head, "she isn’t dead yet," he said as though it was some kind of game to him, his tone holding some sort of mocking pleasure to it.

Steven’s gut knotted as he rose to his feet slowly and carefully, his gaze breaking from Drake for a moment in search of Scribe, but the skinny old man was nowhere to be found. Then he stared once again at Drake.

"Why are you doing this." Steven calmly asked, despite himself welling up with rage, standing there watching Favour slowly lose her life in a drawn-out, painful death made him shudder. Just use rampage blast and kill him, stab him to death even... But no, Steven held back all those thoughts and his will to kill Drake.

Drake sighed, his hand that held Favour’s head swaying a few times, his careless actions clearly hurting the young woman as she groaned, tears rolling down her eyes.

"There are so much you do not understand about life, Steeve," Drake began.

Steven furrowed his eyes, wanting to scoff and retaliate but choosing to wait instead, "explain."

Drake stayed silent for a moment, letting his gaze drift away briefly, but keeping Steven within his peripheral vision as he reminisced, his cruel demeanor twisting into a deep frown as though he recalled something bitter. Then after a while he spoke;

"The world of the Marked and the Awakened is different from the world of the poor and less privileged, even the high-classed that do not possess the Mark exist in a different world from ours, more mediocre." He stressed the last part, his voice laced with venom. "And in the world of the Awakened, we only understand power. Power is control, control over it all. Money, strength, and value lead the society we live in. And for us Clan members, we have to do anything to attain all three."

Steven held his breath, "so you murdered Lin and Favour, just because of wealth and strength. Or because they are part of some sort of fucking Clan?"

Drake shook his head, "you poor people are so narrow-minded!" He snarled, ramming the bloody knife in his hand once again into Favour, this time sticking it deeply into her shoulder, a gruesome sight that jolted Steven. And even worse, Favour barely reacted to the stab, shuddering only a little.

"I, Drake! The son of Clan Trenoa! Surviving the Realm of Entry, the Fated Colosseum, with a bunch of what, fools! Dragging the name of my Clan through the dirt," Drake yelled out. "As a Clan son, I alone should return from the Realm of Entry, as the single survivor of the Fated Colosseum. As the one who killed a Deity, as the one who fought a Disaster and survived all on my own, injuring the monster."

Steven tensed as Drake went on glorifying himself within his own delusions. He was mad, starved for power, and for just those reasons had killed Lin and was now basically killing Favour before his eyes, and he was just watching.

"You are sick in the head!" Steven muttered, summoning his dagger into his grasp.

Drake sighed, his eyes trailing down to Favour who was barely breathing, clinging weakly to life, "I made it easy for you, kill her Steeve, and take her power, we can both return to the human world and you will join my Clan, money, power, and all benefits will be known to you."

Steven’s resolve softened, hesitation clearly showing over his face at Drake’s words.

Drake, seeing his words were working, continued, "I know you are poor back in the human world, let me change it all. Just kill her and with your power we can both climb the ranks of the Clan."

To Steven, who was poor, a boy who had never known the authority of being someone, who never had enough money to get decent meals for himself, this was a tempting deal, to simply kill someone he had only met a few weeks ago, was simply a small price to pay for it. She was already almost dead, putting her out of her misery was nothing short of a token that she herself would appreciate, right.

But looking at this maddened man offering Steven the price of betrayal, he only felt disgust. If he joined a Clan, wouldn’t that mean he would end up like him, searching for every single opening to climb a stupid rank. Was that even considered life, money, power, and strength above everyone but your superiors, it was basically a dog on a leash. One that drank piss from its owner.

"Your ability is special, Steeve, don’t let it be wasted and wither in this realm..."

"There is always a choice, and the choice," Steven cut in sharply, "the choice to you is to kill to climb to power, but to me your choice is simply a choice to me. I’m not fucking interested..."

He glanced at Favour’s fading eyes and then back at Drake. "Sure I’m a scum... But I’m not a dirty scum."

With that, he began to advance forward toward Drake, his resolve heightening as he prepared for battle. "I’m going to make you regret not killing me first."

Drake frowned, letting go of Favour’s body and allowing it to fall to the side, limp and lifeless. His hand grasped the hilt of his sword, and with an angry snarl he unsheathed it, "you filthy Mongrel."

With that, Steven knew his fate was sealed. Whatever outcome came of this fight, one would die and the other would live.

//Author’s note//

1 magic Castle — 6 Chapters mass release.

200 golden Tickets — 7 Chapters mass release