SPIRITBINDER: The Boy Without A Mark
Chapter 47: Chasing the Storm

Chapter 47: Chasing the Storm

The air was thick with tension, the weight of Drace’s escape leaving the rulers in stunned silence. Morvane, however, didn’t waste a second. Without hesitation, he unsheathed his dagger, slicing into his arm. The pain flared, but it was nothing compared to the urgency pounding in his chest.

Black smoke poured from the wound, swirling and solidifying into a hulking shadow beast with glowing crimson eyes. The place trembled under its presence, but Morvane paid no mind. He placed a hand on its smoky mane, steadying his breathing as the beast snarled.

"You can smell scents, right?" he asked, voice sharp and commanding. The beast let out a guttural growl, its nostrils flaring as it caught the faint traces of Drace’s scent lingering in the air. "Good. Don’t lose him."

Without waiting for any response from the rulers, Morvane leapt onto the beast’s back. Its shadowy form rippled under him, yet it felt solid, familiar, like a piece of himself.

"Morvane, wait!" Crimson’s voice cut through the chaos. He stood tall, his hand gripping the hilt of his massive blade. Beside him, Medas looked equally resolute, his telekinetic energy crackling faintly around him.

"We’re coming with you," Crimson said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Morvane gave them a quick nod. "Okay, let’s save Drace."

The shadow beast let out a deafening roar. With a powerful leap. Crimson followed with inhuman speed, vaulting through the broken window with practiced ease. Medas simply raised a hand, using his telekinesis to carry himself through the air after them.

The chase was on.

The forest was eerily silent except for the rustle of leaves as Morvane’s shadow beast sped through the undergrowth, its claws digging into the earth. Crimson and Medas followed closely, their expressions grim. Despite their efforts, Drace was nowhere in sight.

Minutes felt like hours as they weaved through the dense forest. Morvane’s determination faltered briefly until he caught a glimpse of something ahead. A lone figure stumbled through the trees, swaying as though every step cost him more than he could afford.

"Drace!" Morvane shouted, his voice cutting through the stillness.

The figure turned, and for the first time, they saw his face. Drace looked pale, his silver hair damp with sweat. His once-sharp eyes were clouded with exhaustion, and his movements were sluggish, almost drunken. It was clear he was in pain, his strength nearly spent.

Morvane jumped from his beast, rushing toward him. When he reached Drace, he grabbed his shoulders firmly, concern etched across his face. "Drace, are you okay? You need help. Let us treat you—come on."

Drace shook his head weakly, his lips curling into a bitter smile. "No," he said hoarsely. "My power... it’s meant to destroy. If that’s what the gods gave me, then so be it. I’ll use it to its full potential. I’m doing their work, Morvane."

Morvane’s grip tightened. "That’s not true! This isn’t the way—"

Drace shrugged him off, stumbling back a step. Before Morvane could say more, a blur of motion shot past him. In the blink of an eye, Crimson appeared before Drace, his twin katanas drawn, their edges gleaming with lethal intent.

"You’ve destroyed Katakwan—my kingdom," Crimson snarled, his voice shaking with fury. "We gave you shelter. We trusted you. And this is how you repay us? Who knows how many of my people died because of your havoc."

Drace stared at him blankly, unmoving, as if resigned to Crimson’s wrath. Crimson raised his blades high, ready to strike.

"No!" Morvane shouted, throwing himself between them just as the katanas came down.

The sound of metal meeting flesh filled the air. Crimson froze, his eyes wide as he realized what he’d done. Morvane’s hand was severed at the wrist, his fingers falling to the forest floor like broken twigs. Blood gushed from the wound, staining the ground.

"Why...?" Crimson whispered, his voice laced with disbelief.

Medas, who had been watching in stunned silence, stepped forward. "Morvane, what did you do?" he asked, his tone torn between shock and anger.

Morvane fell to his knees, clutching his arm as pain wracked his body. His shadow beast roared in response, its form rippling with rage as it launched itself at Crimson. The beast’s claws slashed lunging towards Crimson.

Crimson’s patience snapped. With a growl, he slashed at the beast, his strikes swift and precise. But the beast was relentless, reforming its shape with every blow.

"Stop!" Morvane shouted, his voice breaking.

Drace watched the chaos unfold, his expression unreadable. Then, for the first time, his gaze softened. "We’re the same, you and I," he said quietly, looking directly at Morvane. "We’ve been given powers meant to destroy. I wish the pain you’re feeling now will teach you... will help you heal."

As Crimson fought the shadow beast, his frustration grew. He raised his hand, his body glowing faintly with power as he prepared to unleash a devastating attack. Before he could strike, an unseen force slammed into him, sending him hurtling through the forest like a ragdoll.

The source of the force stood quietly, his head bowed. Drace’s hand was outstretched, his fingers trembling from the effort.

Medas immediately turned to him, his eyes narrowing. Without hesitation, he used his telekinetic abilities to summon vines from the forest floor, wrapping them tightly around Drace’s body. "That’s enough!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the trees.

Drace didn’t resist. Instead, he looked at Morvane one last time, a faint smile on his lips. "You’ll understand someday."

Morvane, still clutching his bleeding arm, looked up at him with tear-filled eyes. He didn’t know if the tears were from the pain or the weight of Drace’s words.

Drace’s voice was soft, almost inaudible, but the force of his murmured words sent shockwaves through the air. The blast tore through the trees, heading straight for Medas. Unlike Crimson, who had been sent flying earlier, Medas raised a glowing hand and braced himself. His telekinetic energy shimmered around him like a shield, halting the force, though it still managed to push him back several feet.

Drace stood silently, his gaze cold as he turned to Morvane once more. "We are meant to destroy," he said, his tone resolute.

Before anyone could respond, Drace turned and walked away. His steps were slow but purposeful, disappearing deeper into the forest until he was nothing more than a shadow among the trees.

Drace didn’t stop until he was deep in the heart of the forest, where the moonlight barely pierced the thick canopy of leaves. Surrounded by towering trees, he finally let his exhaustion take over. He collapsed onto the cool grass, his chest rising and falling heavily as he fought to catch his breath.

His silver hair clung to his face, damp with sweat, but for the first time in what felt like forever, he allowed himself to smile. The moon above shone brightly, its light soft and serene. He stared at it, his expression bittersweet.

"This is what you wanted, isn’t it?" he whispered, his voice cracking as if addressing unseen figures in the sky. "Isn’t this what you all wanted?"

For a moment, the world felt still. Then, as he continued to stare at the moon, a silhouette appeared against its glow—a figure descending rapidly.

Drace’s eyes widened in realization. It wasn’t a god. It was Crimson, lunging from above with both katanas drawn, his killing intent palpable.

Drace rolled to the side just in time, avoiding the strike by mere inches. Crimson landed with a heavy thud, the force shaking the ground. Without hesitation, Drace sprang to his feet, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten as adrenaline surged through his veins.

Crimson wasted no time, launching a flurry of attacks. His twin blades blurred as they cut through the air, but Drace evaded each strike with uncanny precision. It was as though his body moved on instinct, weaving through the attacks with a grace that belied his earlier exhaustion.

Drace murmured something under his breath, and Crimson suddenly stumbled, coughing up blood.

Crimson wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his glare fierce. "It’s going to take more than that to stop me," he growled before charging again.

Realizing the ground wasn’t to his advantage, Crimson remembered his ability to leap incredible heights. With a powerful jump, he soared above the trees, gaining a vantage point. From the treetops, he lunged down repeatedly, his blades slicing through the air with deadly accuracy.

Drace countered with precise movements, dodging and sidestepping as though the fatigue had been completely drained from his body. With each attack, his energy seemed to rise, his focus sharpening.

But then, as Crimson prepared another attack, a massive vine shot out of the forest floor, wrapping tightly around his body and immobilizing him. This time, the vine coiled around his mouth, silencing him completely.

Hovering above them, Medas descended, his hand glowing as he controlled the vines with his telekinetic abilities. His sharp gaze locked onto Drace. "Enough, Drace," he said firmly. "Your words are your power. Without them, you can’t manifest your attacks."

Drace’s muffled protests were ignored as Medas turned his attention to him. The tension in the air was suffocating, the forest eerily quiet except for the sound of leaves rustling in the wind.

Morvane, still bleeding and clutching his injured arm, stumbled into the clearing. His shadow beast followed behind him, its form flickering and unstable. His tear-streaked face was filled with desperation.

"Drace... stop this," Morvane pleaded, his voice hoarse. "You don’t have to keep fighting. Please."

Drace’s gaze softened momentarily as he looked at Morvane. But it lasted only a second before the cold resolve returned to his eyes.

As Medas tightened his telekinetic grip on Drace, a sudden pulse of energy surged through the forest, far greater than anything they had faced before. Without warning, a massive force exploded outward, hitting both Crimson and Medas like a battering ram.

The impact sent Crimson flying, his body crashing through several trees before disappearing into the depths of the forest. Medas, despite his shield, was hurled back with equal ferocity, vanishing into the distance.

The vines that had restrained Drace withered instantly, crumbling to the ground like dry ash. Medas had been wrong. Drace didn’t need to speak to manifest his power. He could simply think it into existence.

Morvane, bleeding and trembling, stood frozen as he witnessed the sheer magnitude of Drace’s abilities. His shadow beast snarled at his side, its form flickering in agitation.

Drace exhaled slowly, the exhaustion and pain from earlier seemingly erased. His posture straightened, his steps steady and confident. He walked forward with an aura of strength and purpose, his presence commanding and unyielding.

But Morvane wasn’t done. With fire in his eyes, he raised his uninjured arm and commanded his shadow beast to attack. The beast lunged toward Drace, its jaws wide and ready to strike.

Drace stopped and turned his head slightly, his eyes meeting Morvane’s. In that moment, time seemed to slow.

Behind the shadow beast, Morvane appeared, his bleeding arm clutched to his side as he rode on the creature’s back. His voice rang out with raw determination as he ordered the beast to press the attack.

Drace turned to face him fully, his expression unreadable. He tilted his head slightly, a glimmer of cold amusement flickering in his eyes.

"So," Drace muttered, his voice calm but filled with malice. "You still can’t accept the truth, can you? That we are the villains in this story?"

The shadow beast snarled, closing the distance between them. But Drace didn’t flinch. He simply raised his hand, his power thrumming through the air like an unspoken threat.

"Fine," Drace said, his tone dropping to a deadly whisper. "In this world, there can only be one villain. So, I’ll kill you first."

The forest grew silent, the weight of his words hanging in the air like a storm cloud.