When Vaughn came to next, something in the cabin surprised him: Axel was asleep. The man slumped in the chair across the room, snoring softly, arm slack. For the first time that day, Vaughn dared to breathe.

Vaughn waited, watching the rise and fall of Axel's chest, forcing himself to move as quietly as possible. The bonds had already been weakened during his previous struggles; only the tape held him now. Any noise might wake Axel.

His pulse hammered. He worked slowly, painstakingly, and for an agonizing minute the smallest sound could have betrayed him. Finally, the tape gave under his fingers.

Vaughn's mind raced: rip the foot bindings free, bolt for the door, gamble everything that Axel wouldn't wake. He pictured it—him running, him gone. He pictured Axel snapping awake, blade in hand.

Fear and something fiercer spiked inside him. He reached into his bosom and felt the small porcelain bottle there. He'd been saving it like a sacrament.

He popped the cap and swallowed the pill whole.

It hit him like a furnace. Heat flared through his veins, and suddenly the room stopped being large enough for his rage. Strength flooded his limbs. The Beast Core Pill—distilled essence of high-level mutant beasts and rare Force herbs—wasn't a rumor. Each one cost the price of cities; one dose could turn a cornered loser into a god for a few precious minutes.

"Die!"

Vaughn lunged forward, snatching the knife from the table—the same blade Axel had used to sever his tendons. Force surged through his body like wildfire as he drove the knife straight toward Axel's heart.

"Die!"

The blade hit its mark just as Axel's eyes snapped open—cold, sharp, and impossibly awake.

For an instant, pure terror froze Vaughn's veins. Every instinct screamed that he'd made a terrible mistake. But then he remembered the Beast Core Pill burning inside him, his blood roaring with unnatural power. What was there to fear now? Axel was wounded. He was finished.

"I'll kill you, I'll fucking kill you!" Vaughn's thoughts were manic, desperate, almost gleeful. He twisted the knife, forcing it deeper into Axel's chest.

But Axel's hand shot up and clamped around his wrist.

The next sound was a wet crack.

Axel spat a mouthful of blood straight into Vaughn's face—and shattered his wrist like a twig.

"What—how is that possible?!" Panic flooded Vaughn's mind. He could feel it, that horrifying strength. This wasn't the same Axel he'd beaten before. This man was stronger than Terrence, maybe stronger than anyone he'd faced.

But Vaughn's frenzy wouldn't let him stop. He switched hands, gritting his teeth, and plunged the knife again.

Blood exploded from Axel's chest, spraying across both of them, steaming in the icy air. The howling wind outside mixed with the roar of clashing Force, and the cabin shuddered under the impact.

"Why?!" Axel screamed in silence, unable to speak, his throat raw. "Why won't you just let me go?!"

Vaughn froze mid-strike. The words hit him like a thunderclap. Was this… all an act?

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The thought barely formed before a flash of red lit the room.

The Red Flame Blade sang out as Axel roared—a sound torn from the edge of madness. The sword blazed like molten metal, a single arc of crimson heat.

The world flipped.

For a heartbeat, Vaughn thought he was flying. Then he realized his body was still kneeling on the floor, and the thing soaring through the air was his head.

He saw Axel through the haze of his fading vision—face pale, trembling, eyes wide with grief and horror.

"It's over," Axel muttered, voice broken. "I killed someone from the Brighthelm family. I'm finished."

The shattered wall clock ticked twice and stopped at 3:30 a.m.

As Vaughn's vision dimmed, something almost like understanding flickered through him—but then everything went dark.

The cabin collapsed around Axel, snow and ash swirling in the frigid wind. Green light pulsed faintly from his body as he coughed up another mouthful of blood, forcing himself to breathe.

He pulled out his phone. He first called the captain, then police.

"Hello, Shiverstone City Police? This is Axel from Bloodstone Warfare School. I was attacked by an Awakened near the industrial farm. I've… already killed the attacker."

The operator's cheerful voice faltered. "Please hold. We'll dispatch units immediately."

Half a minute later, a man's deep voice came through. "Mr. Axel, this is Chief Walter. Are you safe right now?"

"Yes," Axel said quietly, his tone almost calm. "I'm safe."

"Good. Stay where you are. We're sending a team now."

A student attacked in Shiverstone City—no small incident. Even if the Awakened were dangerous, a call like this would bring half the city running.

When the call ended, Axel sat back in silence. He pulled Vaughn's Life Crystal from the body and tucked it into his Space Capsule.

Then, wordless, he raised his Red Flame Blade again. Flames licked along its edge as he summoned a fragment of the fire spirit's power. Crouching beside what was left of Vaughn, he began to carve.

Slow, methodical strokes—almost reverent. He sliced the ruined head into neat pieces, then fed them to the flame until only ash remained.

When he was done, Axel exhaled, a hollow laugh escaping him."Guess that's a little fucked up," he muttered.

The afternoon sun poured through the cracked window, warm and golden. If not for the blood on his blade and the corpse cooling beside him, it might almost have been a peaceful scene.

Ten minutes later, two police cruisers tore through the snow, headlights cutting through the night. A tall man in a dark overcoat stepped out first, his stride steady and confident.

"Mr. Axel," he said, flashing his badge. "I'm Chief Walter—we spoke on the phone. How are you holding up? Do you need medical attention?" His eyes flicked to the blood splattered across Axel's clothes, his tone cautious.

Axel gave a weary smile and shook his head. "I'm fine."

Walter nodded, though his frown deepened as his gaze fell on the headless corpse beside the shattered cabin wall. He turned toward his men. "Secure the scene. No one touches anything until forensics arrives."

Then, facing Axel again, he softened his tone. "Mr. Axel, since this happened in our jurisdiction, we take full responsibility. Don't worry—we'll find whoever did this and make sure you get justice."

Axel almost wanted to laugh. The man's politeness was comforting, but fleeting. He knew the mood in the room would shift the moment he spoke his next words.

"There's no need to investigate," Axel said quietly. "I know who the attacker was."

The air froze. Walter blinked. "You… know him?"

Axel nodded once. "Vaughn. From the Stormwatch Academy team."

A silence followed—sharp and immediate. Every officer in the room went rigid. One of them even stopped mid-step, staring at Axel like he'd just admitted to killing a god. Walter's scalp prickled as the name sank in.

Vaughn Brighthelm.

Now it made sense. Why Axel had called the police instead of burying the body. If it had been anyone else—a hired killer, a nameless rogue—he'd have cleaned up the mess himself and reported it to the school after the fact. But this? This was Brighthelm blood. A noble house with influence rivaling the Windsors.

Walter exhaled slowly. "Mr. Axel… I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to ask you to come with us."

Axel raised an eyebrow, mildly surprised at the man's restraint. "No problem."

Walter's officers looked visibly relieved. One of them stepped forward, handcuffs glinting in the light.

Walter immediately frowned and waved him off. "Put those away. Mr. Axel called us himself and has agreed to cooperate—there's no need for that kind of disrespect."

The officer awkwardly stepped back. Walter opened the car door himself, motioning for Axel to enter. The engine growled to life, and the small convoy pulled away from the blood-soaked cabin.

As the lead vehicle disappeared into the snow, Walter lingered, glancing at the scene one last time. His jaw tightened. He pulled out his phone, dialed a number, and spoke in a low voice.

"Chief… we've got a situation. A bad one."

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