Chapter 29: Ashford City (2)

Arthur’s boots hit the freezing mud, sending a spray of foul black water up the back of his dark cloak. The alleyway was barely wide enough for two men to walk shoulder-to-shoulder, flanked by towering, crumbling tenement walls that blocked out the morning sun.

The air was thick with the stench of damp earth and stale urine.

Ahead of him, the hooded thief moved with the fluid grace of a rat in a familiar maze. She vaulted over a collapsed wooden barrel without breaking stride, her boots steady where Arthur’s faltered.

But he was catching up to her.

The unnatural, kinetic heat thrumming through his legs was a profound revelation. He wasn’t running; he was being propelled. Every time his foot struck the ground, the mana flooding his lower pathways absorbed the shock and launched him forward. The fatigue of his frail, thirteen-year-old body was entirely suppressed by the roaring current.

But nothing was free of charge in this world.

Arthur’s chest heaved, the freezing air tearing at his throat like swallowed glass. The out-of-control mana dump was horribly inefficient; he could physically feel his already shallow reserves violently emptying with every ten yards he sprinted.

He didn’t have the breath or the focus to analyze his core. His instincts simply screamed a harsh, mathematical reality at him: his core was going to crash soon. He had enough energy left for perhaps two minor spells before he collapsed into complete burnout, and if the kinetic reinforcement collapsed mid-run, the physical backlash wouldn’t be light at all.

Thirty yards ahead, the alleyway hooked sharply to the left, disappearing behind the jagged corner of the ruined brick wall.

If she makes that turn, I will never catch her, Arthur realized, his eyes locked on the thief’s retreating back.

I have to end this now.

He gritted his teeth, forcing his mind to split its focus. He didn’t aim for the thief; a moving target in this dim light was a gamble he couldn’t afford to lose. Instead, he locked onto a heap of rotting wooden crates stacked haphazardly right at the edge of the sharp turn she was sprinting toward.

Arthur threw his right hand forward. “Ignite!”

A blinding, volatile flash of orange fire erupted from his palm, bridging the distance and smashing into the damp wood. It wasn’t a sustained blaze, but the sudden burst of heat and light exploded right in the thief’s peripheral vision.

The girl flinched, throwing her arms up to shield her face. Her momentum carried her forward, but the sudden shift in balance coupled with the slick mud sent her crashing against the brick wall.

Arthur didn’t slow down. The two seconds she spent trying to orient herself were all he needed.

He closed the distance, reaching out to grab the rough fabric of her cloak. He yanked backward with all his momentum.

The violent pull spun her around, snapping her hood back.

Arthur’s eyes widened slightly.

Staring up at him was a teenage girl, no older than Aria. Her cheeks were hollow and smudged with black dirt, her dark hair a tangled, uneven mess around her face. But it was her eyes that caught him off guard; there was no fear, no tearful plea for mercy in them. They were the eyes of a cornered, starving wolf-wild, fierce, and desperate.

Arthur’s adult mind instantly calculated the next moves. Grapple the shoulders, sweep the leg, and pin her to the ground. It was a flawless, tactical sequence.

He lunged forward to execute it.

And reality brutally humbled him.

His mind knew the moves, but his thirteen-year-old body possessed zero muscle memory. His arms were too slow, and his movements were stiff and uncoordinated.

The girl didn’t panic. Her survival didn’t rely on aristocratic training; it relied on the brutal, unforgiving laws of the street.

Seeing Arthur’s clumsy lunge, she immediately dropped her body, slipping under his awkward grapple. She didn’t try to strike his face or chest; she used his own aggressive momentum against him.

Planting her hands in the mud, she pivoted sharply and drove a vicious, perfectly timed sweeping kick right into the side of his leading knee.

A sickening pop echoed in Arthur’s ears as his knee buckled inward.

The sudden shock shattered his concentration completely. The kinetic mana roaring through his legs vanished in an instant. Without the magical reinforcement holding his weight, his frail body simply gave out.