72 gritted his teeth and snapped his jaw shut, his face contorted in a mix of anger and pain as he slowly pulled the embedded metal pipe from his neck. He knew that if the brat had pushed it just a millimeter further he would have been a goner.

The fear of death clouded his mind, leaving him momentarily disoriented, his fury simmering just beneath the surface.

Damn that brat! I swear, I will kill him! he cursed inwardly.

Meanwhile, the taller figure, 69, had descended from the rooftop and stood near the circular weapon that 72 had thrown at Manasei. His gaze fixated on the blade with a frown.

It was chipped, although slightly.

The sight unsettled him deeply. He knew exactly how durable that weapon was, forged to cut through anything on the level of soldier rank dungeon Threats with ease, which strictly speaking was impossible to find Anywhere in the slums of this city. For it to sustain damage, especially from a brat who had seemingly never practiced alchemy, was absurd.

"Hey, 69, what the hell are you doing? Why aren't you going after that brat?" 72 rasped..

"Your chakram. It's damaged," 69 replied absently, his focus still on the weapon in his hand.

'What? That's ridiculous.'

72's eyes widened in disbelief.

The thought brought him back to his brief clash with Manasei. Though he had been holding back for most of the fight, he now realized that no normal person should have been able to withstand his oroa enhanced attack. And yet, Manasei had blocked it, even retaliated, though injured.

It wasn't just raw, innate strength. There was something else about the boy, something familiar.

72's mind raced as he pieced it together. That same energy he used to strengthen himself — Oroa — he could sense it faintly within Manasei. Dormant, perhaps, but undeniably there.

After a moment of hesitation, he spoke, his voice hoarse but tinged with conviction. "That kid… I think his skin has already been washed by oroa."

69 frowned, furrowing his brow as he dismissed the notion. "That's impossible. If he had any idea what Oroa was, he would be able to utilize it consciously; especially if he were a body alchemist."

The possibility left a heavy silence between them.

"Well, even though he's crippled now, you never know what a cornered beast might resort to," said 72, his voice bitter as he clutched his neck.

With a nod, his partner responded, "We can't go back without finishing him off. If we do, it's our heads on the line."

"it's quite ridiculous don't you think?," 72 muttered. "How was this city's operation busted by a little brat like that. Why doesn't the organization just put low-level alchemists in charge instead of mortals?"

"How would I know? We are just some low level assassins, but if I had to guess, it would be for secrecy."

"Secrecy?"

"Think about it, who would suspect a kind elf trying to mend racial tensions between his people and the six Ears?" his tone errie he continued. "and what would be the consequences if it ever got out what that said elf was truly up to?"

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

As 69 spoke, his gaze wandered to the area where Manasei had fallen into the sewer. He moved past it cautiously, scanning for any trace of the boy's blood or movement.

Manasei's missing arm throbbed with an intense, itchy sensation that was impossible to ignore. It was strange, almost surreal, how the sensation eclipsed the numbing pain he had managed to push through so far. The itch became unbearable, forcing him to stop, his legs unwilling to take another step until he addressed it.

When he looked down at what remained of his left arm, what he saw made him frown in confusion.

His focus had been so fixed on his missing hand, perhaps driven by desperation or sheer will to survive, that he hadn't noticed what was happening. The severed limb beneath his black compression shirt began to glow faintly, the veins beneath his skin becoming visible with an eerie red light.

The glowing intensified, and the edges of the wound began to contract inward.

THUMP.

The contraction sent a shockwave of pain radiating through his body, causing him to stagger and let out a guttural groan. The bleeding stopped entirely as the wound seemed to seal itself, though the sensation left him shaking and disoriented.

Manasei stared at his arm, trying to process what had just happened. But there was no time for reflection. He shook off the shock and forced himself to move.

Even though he had put back the sewer hole cover, he knew it was only a matter of time before his pursuers found his trail. Meeting them again, especially in his condition, would mean certain death.

Keep moving, he thought, his jaw clenched against the lingering pain. Just get to the next section. Find an escape route. Lose them for good.

Manasei pushed forward through the sewers, the faint sound of rushing water and his own footsteps echoing around him.

69 pried open the manhole, peering into the darkness below before jumping in with practiced ease. The faint splash of water echoed as he landed. Before descending, he had instructed 72 to head toward the next section of the slums, ensuring they covered both possible escape routes.

"If he didn't take the sewers, he's bound to show up there eventually," 69 had said with certainty. "No sense putting all our eggs in one basket."

Although he wasn't as familiar with the labyrinthine sewage system as someone like Manasei might be, 69 believed he had an edge. The boy was severely injured, his condition worsening with every passing moment. In his mind, the odds of the kid making it far were slim to none.

69 scanned his surroundings, his sharp eyes adjusting to the dim, damp environment. The faint traces of blood on the ground glimmered faintly in the light filtering from above, leading him deeper into the sewer system.

"Let's see how far you think you can run," he murmured.

Suddenly, in Section 5, a deafening alarm began to blare, reverberating through the streets and alleys. The sound was relentless, cutting through the air like a knife. It wasn't just a local alarm, it seemed the entire section was engulfed in the noise. Even Manasei, a little distance from Section 5 and deep within the sewers, heard the shrill cry echoing around him.

He froze for a moment, instinctively tensing. The sound was unmistakable.

Above ground, no one questioned the alarms. Not the the well off folk, nor the poor wandering the slums. Among the three races inhabiting the city, humans, elves, and the six-eared people, there was no room for speculation. Everyone knew exactly what it meant.

A dungeon had appeared in Section 5.

The alarms were a universal language, and they elicited the same reaction in everyone who heard them: dread. No matter their status, race, or beliefs, every resident of Starfallen City, and indeed, anyone across the world, knew the terror these alarms signified.

Dungeons were relatively common occurrences, yet they inspired an almost irrational fear. No amount of frequency dulled the anxiety they brought. These were not mere structures or events; they were chaotic, unpredictable anomalies that spat out death, destruction, and horrors.

Manasei's blood ran cold. Though his immediate focus was on escaping his pursuers, the distant alarms were not good news.

What else could go wrong today? he thought grimly.

His mind racing as a daring plan began to take shape. It was reckless, borderline suicidal, but given his circumstances, it might be his only chance.

If I can use the dungeon to escape... he thought. The idea was dangerous, but the logic was sound. The chaos of a dungeon appearing would overshadow anything else, even the pursuit of two assassins.

But the risks were immense. Manasei had never set foot inside a dungeon before.

Still, the alternative was a direct confrontation with the two black-clad alchemists, a fight he was certain he wouldn't survive in his current state.

What's more chaotic than a dungeon? he reasoned.

His window of opportunity was shrinking. He knew the enforcers would soon block off the portal to the dungeon, and worse, other alchemists might arrive to secure the area. If he was going to act, it had to be now.

Gritting his teeth, Manasei made his decision. He turned toward Section 5, forcing his battered body to move.