BXBX NOVEL Chapter 168: You're One Cute Bastard
As he stepped into the cool night air, he saw Gen and Olivia in the courtyard, engaging Natalia in conversation.
He grinned at the sight. Their distraction was seamless, giving Ezra the window he needed to slip away.
He moved swiftly through the shadows, his senses on high alert. He knew the danger of his actions but had no choice.
The stakes were too high, and his secret alliance with the Blackthornes was pivotal.
As he navigated the winding streets, he felt a prickle of awareness. Glancing over his shoulder, he noticed a figure following him from a distance.
X.
Ezra grinned to himself as he quickened his pace. That had to be deliberate. X wanted him to know he was following him. Probably Griffin's orders.
Ezra ducked into a few alleyways and doubled back to throw X off his trail. He moved with the practiced ease of someone who had spent years honing his skills in the underbelly of the city.
The chase was a bit tense, but Ezra's knowledge of the city's layout played to his advantage.
After several minutes of cat-and-mouse, Ezra managed to lose X, slipping through a narrow passageway that led to a hidden backstreet.
He paused to be sure, listening for any signs of pursuit. Satisfied that he was no longer being followed, he continued to the safehouse.
The safehouse was an old, abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city, its exterior weathered and unassuming.
Ezra approached cautiously, his senses alert for any signs of trouble. He pushed open the creaky door and stepped inside, the darkness swallowing him.
"Veran?" he called softly, his voice echoing in the empty space.
There was no response. He moved deeper into the warehouse, the faint moonlight filtering through broken windows casting eerie shadows on the walls.
The faint sound of his footsteps echoed through the abandoned structure, but beyond that, there was silence. He called out for Veran again, but his voice only returned to him as an unsettling echo.
As he reached the center of the room, he sensed something was wrong. The air felt thick, charged with a strange energy.
Suddenly, a low, guttural growl reverberated through the shadows, and a massive creature emerged from the shadows.
It was a monstrous beast, all sinew and claws, its eyes glowing wickedly. Ezra blinked in surprise, taking in the creature. The beast was unlike anything he had ever seen.
Standing at least ten feet tall, it had a hulking, muscular frame covered in thick, matted fur that was matted with blood and dirt.
Its head was an amalgamation of various predators, featuring a wolf-like snout, sharp fangs, and glowing red eyes that seemed to pierce through the darkness.
Its claws were long and razor-sharp, glinting menacingly in the dim light.
A Chimera.
"Huh." Ezra chuckled. "You're one cute bastard. You must be a laugh at parties."
He flexed as his black zone rolled off him and solidified to cover them. "I guess it's just you and me, buddy."
The Chimera lunged at Ezra with astonishing speed, its claws slashing through the air.
Ezra barely had time to react, dodging to the side as the beast's claws sliced through the spot where he had been standing.
"Fast!" He hummed, impressed.
With a twist, his sword materialized in his hand.
Laughing, he countered with a swift strike of his own, his blade cutting into the Chimera's thick hide. The beast roared in pain, its eyes blazing with fury.
The Chimera retaliated with a powerful swipe of its paw, catching Ezra off guard and sending him sprawling to the ground.
He rolled to his feet just in time to dodge another attack, the beast's claws narrowly missing his head. Ezra sighed as his focus grew, knowing that one wrong move could be fatal.
The Chimera charged again, its massive jaws snapping at Ezra with terrifying force.
He parried with his blade, driving it into the beast's mouth and twisting it to the side. The Chimera howled in pain, shaking its head violently to dislodge the weapon.
Ezra was thrown away but landed on his fist. He made a grabbing motion and his sword disappeared from the Chimera's mouth and appeared in his mouth.
The two circled each other, the Chimera's growls echoing through the warehouse.
Ezra hummed to himself as his mind worked, searching for a strategy.
The beast was fast and powerful, but it was also driven by rage, making its attacks somewhat predictable. He needed to exploit that.
The Chimera lunged once more, and this time Ezra was ready.
He sidestepped the attack, slicing at the beast's exposed flank. The blade bit deep, and the Chimera roared in agony, its blood spraying across the floor.
Enraged, it swung its massive paw at Ezra, who ducked under the blow and drove his sword into the beast's leg.
The Chimera stumbled, momentarily off balance.
Seizing the opportunity, Ezra pressed his advantage, launching a series of quick, cutting strikes. With his blade laced with his vitality stealing darkness, each blow weakened the monster, driving it further into a frenzy.
The Chimera lashed out wildly, its movements growing more desperate and erratic.
Ezra knew he had to end the fight quickly. He focused on the beast's weak points, aiming for the joints and vulnerable areas.
The Chimera's roars filled the warehouse, its rage and pain evident.
It charged one final time, but Ezra sidestepped and delivered a powerful, two-handed strike to the back of its neck.
The blade cut through the Chimera's thick hide and muscle, severing its spine.
The beast let out a final, blood-curdling scream before collapsing to the ground in a heap.
Ezra stood over the fallen creature, his chest heaving with exertion, his sword dripping with the Chimera's blood.
As the beast's body began to dissolve into nothingness, leaving behind only a lingering sense of malevolence, Ezra took a moment to survey the room.
That had been a minor workout but Veran should have sensed the black zone and appeared by now. This only meant one thing.
Dismissing the black zone, he looked around the now-empty space.
The monster had been a trap, a ploy to lure him into danger. But who had set it? And where were the Blackthornes?
He moved deeper into the warehouse, his eyes scanning for any clues.
As he explored, he came across signs of a recent battle. There were scorch marks on the walls, overturned crates, and bloodstains on the floor.
The sight wasn't painting a pretty picture.
"Veran," he murmured, not willing to accept what he already knew.
After a moment, he sighed.
There was no other conclusion.
The Blackthornes had been attacked and taken, their fates unknown.