Their clothes rustled faintly in the silence that followed — silence broken only by the soft chime of the night wind passing through the balcony rails. Reva's fingers trembled slightly as she tied the last strap of her dress, her eyes occasionally flicking toward Xavier, who was sliding his gloves back on, movements slow and wordless.

Neither of them spoke for a while.

Finally, Reva exhaled. "You should leave now," she said quietly, almost forcing the words out. "Before my father changes his mind… before he decides that sparing you was a mistake."

Xavier didn't respond right away. He only adjusted his jacket, and looked at the fading scar on her face before moving eyes down for a second, and then gave her a simple nod.

No words. Just that small, final gesture.

Reva watched him, waiting for something else — anything — but he didn't look at her again. It was easier that way. She turned, her footsteps echoing faintly against the marble floor as she led him toward the door.

Behind her, Xavier's mind was a storm of thoughts.

He wasn't thinking about escape. Or about gratitude. Or even about what she'd said.

He was thinking about the punch. The one Luther had landed square in his chest — the one that had nearly stopped his heart.

He'd taken that hit on purpose.

At the time, it had looked reckless, suicidal even, but it wasn't. Xavier had wanted to brush against death — because death was the one thing that had triggered his previous power's awakening. He'd been certain Reva would stop Luther before he went too far, and she had.

And now, walking through those ancient halls with her ahead of him, Xavier could feel it.

The second power — Essence.

It was like a heartbeat under his skin, slow but deep, resonating through every cell in his body. It wasn't raw energy or destructive strength like telekinesis — it was something subtler. Denser. He didn't need to test it to understand that this power wasn't meant for destruction; it was meant for control. The power to draw from the very core of things — from life, from magic, from soul. The power to consume and reshape essence itself.

A quiet smile tugged at his lips. 'So that's what you do…'

They walked for several minutes, passing through the narrow inner corridors that twisted like veins through the stone walls. Reva led, silent and stiff, while Xavier followed a few steps behind, hands in his pockets, scanning everything.

The castle's design was monumental — towering columns, old portraits of long-dead lords, crimson drapes that shimmered faintly in the moonlight. Through open arches, he caught glimpses of statues standing like sentinels over the courtyards, and beyond that, the red moon hanging above the mountain cliffs. The whole structure felt alive — humming with the pride and arrogance of an ancient race that refused to die.

And then, slowly, the interior began to change.

The polished halls faded into stone corridors; the gold chandeliers gave way to torchlight and bare metal beams. This was the outer section — the servants' wing, the distant bloodlines' quarters. Yet even here, everything reeked of wealth and power, built on the bones of centuries.

At last, they reached the open junction where several long paths met — one leading toward the exit bridge, others branching into the side quarters and vault wings.

Reva glanced over her shoulder. "We're almost at the outer gates. Once you cross the bridge, head straight into the forest and—"

She stopped mid-sentence.

Xavier wasn't there.

Her heartbeat quickened. "Xavier?" she whispered, scanning the hall. There was no answer, no trace of him. Panic surged in her chest. She turned back down the corridor, thinking maybe he'd stopped somewhere — or worse, that someone had intercepted him.

Her voice trembled as she called again, louder this time. "Xavier!"

Nothing.

But somewhere, unseen in the maze of corridors and moonlit balconies above, Xavier was already moving — quiet as a shadow.

He'd slipped away the moment she turned the corner.

He had no plans of leaving.

Not yet.

"Sorry, Reva," he muttered under his breath. "But I didn't come all this way just to leave quietly."

He didn't have a plan. Not one that involved getting out of here alive, at least. All he wanted was him. Luther Von Stein.

Xavier didn't know where Luther was, but he was sure he would show up again anyway to find him and hunt him down like he did before once he realized that Xavier was hiding somewhere in the castle. And to do that, he had to raise an alarm, not an actual alarm, but just alerting some guards would do the trick.

The bastard would find him eventually. He was too proud not to.

He spotted two guards patrolling a long hallway near one of the bridges. They weren't paying much attention—just talking, half asleep in their routine. Xavier waited for the right moment, then went in fast.

Xavier exhaled quietly and crept up behind the first one. The guard barely had time to register the sound before Xavier's arm locked around his neck, dragging him backward.

The second guard turned confused — "Who's th—" —with his weapon drawn, but Xavier swung his elbow into the man's gut and then cracked his head against the pillar. He slammed his heel into the man's chest, crushing him into the wall.

The noise bounced through the hall like a thrown coin.

He didn't use telekinesis. He didn't need to. He wanted them to make noise. Even if his attack had failed, it wouldn't have mattered. But he never expected the vampire guards to go down so easily with minimal effort.

He dropped both guards to the ground, leaving them bruised but breathing, then grabbed one of their spears and smashed it against a nearby pillar for good measure. The echo carried across the long hallway.

A few seconds later, the sound of comms crackled faintly from the fallen guards' earpieces.

"Unit six, report."

Silence.

"Unit six, do you copy?!"

Perfect.

Xavier smiled faintly and muttered, "Now that'll get his attention."

He started walking again, unhurried, listening to the faint sound of boots and shouts growing louder from the distance. Every guard in this place would be on edge in the next few minutes, which meant Luther would hear about it too.

That's what he wanted.

It didn't take long before distant footsteps began to multiply — dozens of guards moving through the corridors, spreading the alert.

Xavier smirked, leaning back against the shadow of the archway. "That should do it," he muttered. "Come on, father-in-law. Show me your face again. I want to say 'goodbye' to you before I leave."

Meanwhile, in another section of the castle, Reva was losing her composure one step at a time.

She moved fast but kept her expression calm whenever she crossed paths with servants or guards. Her heart was hammering, but she couldn't let anyone see that. If word spread that the human had escaped his quarters, it'd be over — her father would call it defiance, call it betrayal, and Xavier wouldn't even make it past the outer gate.

Her fingers trembled as she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "Where did you go, you fool…" she whispered.

She turned into another corridor, scanning every shadow, every flicker of movement. Her mind was racing — retracing the paths they'd taken when leaving her room. He must've stayed close. He wouldn't leave without finishing something.

Her gut twisted. She knew what that meant.

He was looking for her father.

She bit down on her lip, forcing herself to keep walking. "Please… don't find him. Not yet. Not like this."

She checked every corner, every corridor she'd walked through with him earlier. But deep down, she already knew what he was doing. He wasn't trying to escape. He was looking for her father.

And if Luther found him first… she didn't even want to imagine it.

She forced herself to stay composed, not to draw attention, but her hands wouldn't stop shaking as she walked.

Her eyes burned, but she kept moving. She had to find Xavier first.

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