Elijah felt that his luck so far was pretty mixed, so he tallied it up:

  He had been able to hitch a ride, which saved him at least a whole day of travel, which was certainly good luck even though it had been accompanied by some …unpleasantness, but that was hardly worth mentioning.

  In addition, he faced minimal resistance at the checkpoints, although it had relieved him of what little he had by way of cash. Still, better to get the ordeal over with as quickly as possible.

  He was not ungrateful for his fortunes, as few as they might be, but he also bemoaned the situation he was in, as it seemed poised to negate them.

  He was referring, of course, to the group of unfriendly-looking accosters who somehow knew his name.

  It was a squad of about six individuals, all looking to be just slightly older than him, with the exception of the boy at the very head of the group. That one looked about his age, though he had a scowling manner and hair cut very close to the skin.

  What do they want with me?

  He observed the group cautiously to try to ascertain their purpose. They wore elegant and well-fitted black kaftans[1] embroidered with a regal red lion’s head.

  From their attire, he could tell that they were members or servants of some Highborn clan, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember which. As an osu, a member of the caste beneath all castes, the particulars of noble clans had nothing to do with him, and he was altogether incurious about such things.

  Should have probably done more research about this, he thought to himself, as his body tensed up, as though he were on the eve of action. This despite the fact that he couldn't decide what action to take.

  Fighting the freeborn outside of an arena or some other event organised by them had never even crossed his mind before. In older times, that was an automatic death sentence, but even now in this relatively softer age, challenging the power of a Highborn clan could have no good outcomes.

  “You are to come with us,” was the declaration from the apparent leader.

  Neither his choice of words nor his tone suggested that this command was open to negotiation.

  I doubt they'll tell me what they want if I ask nicely, either.

  Despite his indecision, one thing was pretty certain to him – he could not go with these people.

  The odds were against him already, but he would be absolutely finished if he let himself get taken somewhere private. In the open street, escape or assistance was at least a possibility, albeit a slim one.

  “What are you waiting for?” The question came from an aggressive girl who had been standing just behind the leader, whom she had now shoved aside to bear down on their young target.

  The younger boy grabbed a hold of her arm and arrested her momentum.

  “What are you doing?” he asked with some measure of surprise and irritation.

  The rest of the group looked down with embarrassed expressions, not intending to intervene in the matter.

  “I’m carrying out our mission,” was her sharp reply as she freed her arm easily from his grip.

  “And what do you think I’m doing?”

  “I think you’re letting some osu dog stand in the way of the Lion. If you can’t wield the authority you’ve been given, you should stand aside and—”

  Out of nowhere, the pair felt a strong killing intent[2] directed at them.

  Before she could react, she saw that, standing in front of her, hand stretched out to grab her neck, was the same osu that had been half a dozen or so metres away just a blink ago.

  Luckily, though, her black iron dagger had reacted instinctively and created separation between them, stopping him from closing his terrifying grip around her neck.

  Leaving the blade buried in his midriff, she jumped back into a formation with the remaining members of her team. The leader seemed shocked by the rapid escalation and remained rooted to the spot.

  “Get back, idiot!” The girl called at him from the head of the cross formation she had commanded the unit to take.

  She’d have gone herself to get to him, but the blinding speed of their target made her too wary to step out of formation.

  What sort of inhuman speed was that?

  She was a skilled martial artist in her own right, but the speed, combined with the lack of any signs of preemption, had shaken her. If not for his leaking killing intent, it would have been impossible to predict his actions.

  It was as though some mysterious predator was hidden behind the camouflage of this boy's mild face.

  Elijah looked slowly at the blade in his belly and pulled it out gingerly, not paying attention at all to the boy next to him and instead allowing him to rejoin his squad without hassle.

  He seemed to have gathered his wits about him and commanded them to form a double triangle with him at the head. It would seem that, despite his greenness, he wasn’t totally incompetent.

  The girl scowled as she obeyed the order but knew better than to complain with the enemy directly in front of them.

  Speaking of that enemy, he had finally extracted the blade. The result was quite contrary to their wildest imagination.

  The black dagger, which had hidden close to half its considerable length in the osu’s gut, not only didn't cause any bleeding, but revealed that the part that had penetrated his skin was missing.

  What manner of sorcery was this?

  There wasn’t time to consider it, though; he was attacking now.

  The now ruined blade flew at them like a jet-propelled spear.

  Julnan was stuck to the ground again. Not from fright, as it had been earlier, but from the fact that if he moved out of the way, his comrades would be vulnerable to the attack.

  Steeling his resolve, he started a chant, doubtful he'd been finished in time.

  I'll just hope the charms hold out.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  The sickening sound of metal penetrating flesh mixed with the curious sound of it grating against stone rang out to the surprise of all present.

  None was more surprised than Julnan, who had expected a dagger in his chest, but instead saw his belligerent teammate, Yachit, leaning over him, having caught the weapon.

  Saying she caught it was perhaps an exaggeration, as it had actually penetrated her hand partially, but she had done her job in saving her comrade from serious injury.

  His shock was beyond difficult to quantify, but this time he reacted decisively.

  “Don’t lose him,” he instructed the other four members, referring to Elijah, who had started fleeing rapidly from the moment he launched his attack. Apparently, he wasn't curious to see the result. “We’ll catch up.”

  Yachit made to disagree, but he ignored her and instead inspected the wound gravely before casting a quick spell, causing the tip of his blade to glow with heat.

  “Bite down,” he instructed gravely.

  “Just get it over wi–”

  “Aarrgh!”

  Hundreds of metres from their original position, the quartet chased down their target with a pincer run, making sure to keep their distance from him as they closed in.

  What was I thinking? Elijah asked himself as he fled at breakneck speed on all fours.

  It was outside his own wildest dreams that he’d ever initiate an attack on the freeborn. There was absolutely no difference between that and suicide in his book.

  Still, he kept his pace steady and tried to create as much separation as he could. There was no possibility of an apology smoothing things over. Besides, he was pretty certain that they didn't approach him with good intentions in the first place.

  He had hoped that the shock and awe of his little performance would have dissuaded their hunt, but they were getting closer with each second.

  For a second, the dark thought of killing them to end the chase flitted across his mind. It was only momentary, of course, and he mocked himself internally after.

  I’m not even strong enough to take them all on, haha. Killing’s definitely not an option. Let’s try escaping for now.

  How’s he moving so fast?

  One of the servants asked himself, feeling more and more unease with every second that passed. Elijah had a head start because he had used the attack as an avenue to flee immediately, but he was still running with that obnoxious load of luggage on his back.

  The command had just been to chase him down, but he felt that probing him from a distance would be the safer option. If he suddenly decided to go on the attack, they’d be in trouble. It was better to take the initiative.

  He signalled his teammates to cover him as he began casting rapidly, and in mere moments, a ball of fire manifested and flew at the fleeing mark rapidly. Shortly following the first attack were three othere, angled so as to block off any escape routes. Despite their earlier floundering, it was clear that this was a well-trained group.

  They approached slowly but decisively, not wanting to give him any time to recover from their blasts.

  To their surprise, every last one seemed to have hit.

  Taking the rear, the default leader still gave signals as they closed in on the site of the attack.

  Moments later, the smoke created as a result of the fireballs stirred, and an object emerged at an unconventional speed on a collision course with the closest chaser. He reacted by putting his guard up and moving backwards, although he was certain from the speed that it would be futile.

  Just before the expected clash, though, its momentum was arrested by silver strings which seemed to have manifested out of nowhere to hold it in place. It was the current leader of the team who had taken action at the vital moment, controlling those threads with an interesting pair of decorated gloves.

  His relief was short-lived, though, as the young osu appeared before him and struck him in the core, causing him to collapse.

  This all happened in a single moment, and none of the others could come to his aid in time. In fact, they only now noticed that the first object that had emerged from the smoke wasn’t their target, but the luggage he’d been carrying.

  Elijah twisted his body, ready to take down the rest, but he felt an abrupt and burning sensation all over his body. He looked down to discover that those same strings had enfolded him.

  Silver! He thought in a slight panic as black smoke rose from his body, and he felt his strength drain from him. He tried mustering another attack, but he felt his body tremble bizarrely, causing him to fall on one knee.

  “Attack,” the boy shouted, still clasping his injured midriff as he struggled to hold on to Elijah with his strings.

  Immediately after, a barrage of elemental attacks struck the osu in succession, in an attempt to exhaust his defences, and the ground shook because of the force they mustered.

  When the smoke cleared, they found him on both knees, seemingly spent after their successful assault. His clothes were now tattered (moreso than usual), and serious burn marks covered his body.

  In their agitation, they had accidentally gone overboard and seriously injured him. They weren’t sure what the young master wanted him for, but they doubted that he’d be pleased if they brought him in with serious injuries.

  One of them leaned in to administer first aid (they were so worried that the usually odious idea of touching an osu didn’t even cross their mind).

  Just as she began the chants for healing magic, she saw something that shocked her greatly.

  Despite the smell of charred flesh still lingering in the air, she could see that his wounds were healing at a visible rate. Just as she made to exclaim, she felt two hands clasp hers like a vice and squeeze down.

  The result was an audible and sickening crunch that drew the attention of the other members.

  Before any of them could react, though, a timbral howl rang out. Its effect was akin to throwing water into a pan of hot oil, and it sent all of their life energy into turmoil, causing their casting to fail and them to suffer dangerous backlash as a result.

  This was the best chance to escape.

  On some level, Elijah was very aware of that, but his mind was clouded with a bloody mist, and his eyes glowed a ferocious yellow.

  Simultaneously, the smell of burning sulphur pervaded the tense atmosphere as a black cloud, like the top of an active volcano, seemed to emerge from his body and cover the area around him. The phenomenon was overpowering to all the senses, and it communicated one thing—bloodthirst.

  Within this strange cloud, a grotesque transformation was taking place. The sound of shifting bones and tearing muscles sounded sickly as the silhouette of the boy morphed into something… bizarre.

  The girl still in Elijah’s grasp had a full view of the transformation and saw that, instead of the dull face of their target, the visage before her was the black and spiky-furred head of a hound, its powerful maw wide open as it steadily inched toward her, leaving little doubt of its intention to bite down once it reached.

  For the rest of her teammates, though the ash cloud occluded much of their senses, it was impossible for them not to be drawn to the unnatural transformation.

  Lycan![3]

  It was the united mental chorus of the entire group as a panic spread. Iya made an effort to control the strings to hold onto him more tightly, but in his state of serious injury and life energy disarray, it was mostly futile, and he only managed to barely constrict him further.

  In the next moment, two flashes of silver and the two missing members of the team appeared right next to him, their sharp daggers at his neck.

  “Let go of her,” the girl said gravely.

  Iya heaved a sigh of relief before collapsing. The strain had proven to be too much for him.

  Elijah was very aware of the silver blades pointed at his vitals, but he wasn’t inclined to listen to their order. Knowing his speed, he’d definitely be able to clamp down before they could do anything, but he’d be vulnerable after and most likely dead.

  He considered it for a moment and found that he was not particularly bothered by this. Not because of his great courage or disregard for death — he was anything but heroic.

  In a more sober moment, he would have certainly chosen life over destruction.

  In this moment, though, his bloodlust was at its peak, and he felt disinclined to inhibit himself. He had gone out of his way to avoid trouble at every step, and still it tracked him down unrelentingly.

  He had suffered silently until now, but his rage had finally shown itself as he found himself backed into a corner — even a dog would bite a lion if forced.

  It's what I deserved for being born an outcast, I guess, he said to himself in genuine fury before mocking himself internally.

  In the next life perhaps, he said finally, before lunging for her head.

  Reference for Kaftan:

  Reference for killing intent: a murderous aura which emits from a person when they desire to harm someone. People who have experienced bloody battles and/or have already killed others tend to have much stronger killing intent than an ordinary person. Experts may be able to disguise their killing intent, as well as intentionally release it as a form of mental attack.

  for Lycan: Werewolf.