"What a lively party. Sorry to interrupt things, but we are here to give Young Master Leo a present." The voice cut through the chatter like a blade through silk.
Every head snapped toward the entrance.
Four figures stood there—masked, silent, unmoving—scanning the crowd with cold precision.
A wave of confusion rippled through the room.NGasps echoed. Eyes narrowed. Whispers swirled like smoke.
Who wears a mask to Young Master Leo’s party? This wasn’t just arrogance—it was provocation.
When Leo laid eyes on the four, sothing shifted in his expression. He didn’t recognize them, but his instincts scread at him—they were dangerous.
A powerful, suffocating aura pulsed from them.
"What do you an by wearing a mask to a party of Young Master Leo?" soone from the crowd snapped.
Others quickly joined in, unleashing a storm of insults at Drake and his companions.
But Drake? He just chuckled.
"Even the Young Master I was speaking to hasn’t responded," he said, his tone mocking.
"You lot are truly worthy of being called his sheep."
The air froze.
Silence swept the room. The insult hit deep—and everyone knew it. All eyes turned cold.
Leo, however, smiled faintly. He turned to face Drake fully.
"So, what present do you have for ?"
Drake returned the smile. He stepped forward, calm and fearless.
The crowd instinctively parted, forming a narrow path.
Footsteps echoed with quiet nace as Drake and his group closed the distance—until they stood face to face with Leo.
Leo glanced at their hands—empty. No boxes. No scrolls. No trinkets. Nothing.
"I wonder what your present might be?" Leo asked, suspicion creeping into his voice.
He had never seen these people before. No introductions, no noble badges. Just strangers in masks... walking straight into his party.
Sothing was off.
"Can’t you remove your mask?" Leo asked, raising a brow, wearing a faint, challenging smile.
Drake gave a low chuckle. "I’m sorry, Young Master Leo. Our hidden identity... is part of your present."
A murmur rose from the crowd.
Leo’s eyes narrowed slightly. What kind of gift requires this much mystery?
"I wonder what the present is," he said, chuckling, trying to stay composed.
Drake leaned in, voice cold and sharp.
"Well... it’s your head."
The world stopped. Every conversation died. Every breath caught.
A graveyard silence settled across the room.
Eyes locked on the masked intruders. Hearts thundered.
Leo’s smile vanished. His expression turned frigid as he stared down Drake.
"Should I take that to an I misheard your words?" he asked, voice low and dangerous.
Drake didn’t blink. "No. You didn’t. That’s our present for you," he said, each word like a dagger in the air.
Instantly, the Town Master beside Leo moved, his hand slicing through the air.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Armored footsteps stord in. In re seconds, Drake and his gang were surrounded by a wall of steel.
The soldiers raised their weapons—ready to kill.
Drake barely reacted. He simply turned his head toward the Town Master.
"We didn’t co for you," he said coldly, his voice now laced with threat.
"So don’t get in our way... or you’ll regret it."
The Town Master snorted,
"Young Master Leo’s problem is my problem. If you want him, you’ll have to go through first."
A hush fell over the crowd.
They knew instantly—they were a step too late. This was the perfect chance to prove their loyalty to Young Master Leo, to maybe earn his favor... to maybe change their fate.
Drake’s eyes narrowed.
"I know you’re trying to suck up to him," he said coldly, "but you picked the worst possible mont to do it."
"And what exactly do you an by that?" the Town Master snapped, his voice sharp as a blade. He raised a hand—and the army charged.
"Who wants to deal with this ss?" Drake asked without turning around.
"Let . Please," Lizzy answered, her tone laced with venom.
Drake gave her a nod. That was all she needed.
"Blood Dragon Art: Thorns of Blood!"
Lizzy lifted her hands. Her blood-red mask flared with an eerie glow—then the air twisted.
In a flash, hundreds of crimson thorns materialized above the soldiers, glistening like death itself.
SWOOSH!
It didn’t take a minute.
It didn’t even take ten seconds.
In a single breath, the entire army collapsed. Every man, every weapon, silenced. Blood-soaked thorns pierced their vital points with deadly precision.
A graveyard silence blanketed the hall.
The Town Master trembled as his army dropped like flies. The crowd reeled back in horror, panic spreading like wildfire. Not one soldier survived.
"I warned you," Drake said coldly. "You backed the wrong side at the wrong ti."
His voice was a chill crawling up their spines.
Young Master Leo’s expression darkened. He wasn’t shocked at the massacre—he was furious.
"Who are you," he demanded, "and why are you coming for my life?"
Drake’s voice was calm—too calm.
"Our identity? The reason we’re here?" He grinned beneath the mask.
"It’s simple... For fun."
The words struck like thunder.
The crowd flinched. Fun? They’re killing for fun?
"Do you even know who I am?" Leo’s voice trembled with fury.
"Of course we do," Drake answered, eyes gleaming. "Any proper hunter studies their prey."
That did it.
Leo’s Originat surged around him, the pressure mounting as rage twisted his face. He had been reduced to prey—and that humiliation lit a fire inside him.
Drake stepped forward.
"Before you get reckless, why don’t you call out your real protector?" he said. "There’s no way a Young Master of the Ignis Clan ca here unguarded."
The maids flinched, stepping forward.
Drake raised a hand to stop them, eyes fixed beyond them—into empty air.
"I never expected to be found out so soon," a cold voice replied.
In the blink of an eye, an old man appeared beside Leo. His gaze locked on Drake, expression unshaken.
"Can you handle him, Kaidros?" Drake asked telepathically.
"Yes, Master," ca the calm reply.
Drake’s lips curled.
"Good. Then—everyone... attack."
SWOOSH! BOOM!
The hall exploded into chaos.
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