He started moving along it, careful and slow. His tiny paws gripped the uneven stone with full focus. One wrong move and he'd drop straight to the hard ground. Wind brushed his fur, and he flattened himself against the wall.
A sudden pull deep inside his chest, sharp and fast, like the air was yanked out of his lungs. His bones stretched, fur vanished, muscles reshaped.
POP.
He was transforming back into his human form.
"No, no—seriously? Now?!"
His feet were too big for the ledge, and he lost his balance almost instantly. His fingers scraped the wall as he slipped. The stone rushed past him.
He was falling.
"Sh—!"
But his hand caught something—something rough, stone, solid.
He grunted, swinging slightly, his bare body pressed close to the cold wall. His hand stung, but he didn't dare let go. Breathing heavily, he glanced up, trying to see what he had grabbed.
but the moment he saw it—a roaring face with sharp teeth and wide eyes carved in the wall—he nearly let go.
"Holy sh—!" he hissed under his breath but quickly bit his tongue, hard, swallowing the rest of the curse as his eyes darted back toward the window above.
If the Duke or anyone heard him now, it was over.
Clint crouched on top of the dragon statue, breathing deeply. The wind brushed past his skin, and the garden below looked dark and quiet. He narrowed his eyes, then took a steady breath.
He jumped.
His body twisted mid-air and landed hard on the grass with a light thud. He rolled with the force of it, keeping low, and as soon as he stopped, he heard soft footsteps not far behind.
"Tch—"
Without wasting a second, Clint rolled into a thick bush nearby, the leaves shaking softly before he froze completely, body tight and still. Through the small gaps, he watched.
A knight walked past slowly, armor glinting faintly under the moonlight. He looked around, scanning the area.
Clint didn't even breathe.
After a few long seconds, the knight clicked his tongue and turned away, footsteps fading into the distance.
Clint let out a silent breath, crawled out of the bush, and dashed toward the edge of the estate. He found a stone wall behind the garden, covered in vines and shaded by trees.
With careful steps, he climbed down slowly, fingers gripping the cracks between the stones. Finally, his feet touched solid ground.
He was outside.
Clint stood up slowly, brushing off dirt from his arms and pants. "Finally…" he muttered, glancing over his shoulder toward the tall estate wall behind him.
But just as he was about to step forward—
He stopped.
His muscles tensed.
A presence. Then three.
His eyes narrowed, turning his head slightly And saw them. Three figures in dark cloaks, faces shadowed by hoods, surrounding him like they had been waiting for this exact moment.
"Told you he'd try escaping tonight," one of them said with a smug tone.
Clint's feet shifted into stance instantly, his fists clenching. "No you don't," he snapped, dropping into a familiar low guard.
One of the cloaked figures snorted and raised a wand. The wand glowed green vines shot out from the ground beneath Clint's feet like snakes, wrapping around his legs, arms, even his chest in one swift motion. A thick vine whipped across his face and coiled around his mouth, muffling his voice.
"Mmmph!"
He struggled as he fall to his knees but the vines held firm, spreading like roots across his body.
One of the men stepped closer, his voice doubtful. "Are you sure this is the kid you summoned?"
The other two replied together, confident. "Yes. Look at his clothes. They're still strange."
"He reeks of foreign mana. That's him."
The doubtful one scoffed. "Hmph. Doesn't look like much."
They circled him slowly. "Let's bring him back before anyone notices."
The doubtful one stepped forward, clicking his tongue as he looked Clint up and down. Then, without warning, he grabbed Clint like a sack tossing him over his shoulder with one arm, vines still binding his limbs and muffling his mouth. Clint's body bounced slightly as the man began walking quickly through the forest path, deeper into the trees.
Damn it... Clint thought, teeth gritting behind the vine gag. There's no use struggling now. I need to save my strength… wait for the right moment.
His ears picked up footsteps behind them—the other two. The man carrying Clint suddenly ran faster.
"What the hell?" one of them snapped.
"He's taking him away!" the other shouted.
The two cloaked figures cursed and gave chase, But no matter how fast they moved, the one in front was faster, weaving through trees and brush like he knew the terrain by heart.
Eventually, the gap widened.
Then he stopped.
They were out of sight.
He slipped behind a thick tree, breathing quietly, then slowly knelt down and laid Clint against the base. With quick, precise gestures, he waved his hand, dissolving the vines around Clint's body, arms, and finally, the one covering his mouth.
The moment Clint felt his jaw free, he moved.
He shot forward, grabbed the man's collar, pulled his head down, and raised his knee to strike him in the face—only for the man to jerk back just in time, stumbling slightly.
"Whoa! Calm down!" the man said quickly, hands raised in defense. "You almost broke my nose!"
Clint backed a step, now in full stance, fists up and ready, his bare feet steady on the ground, eyes sharp.
"Talk," he growled. "Who the hell are you, and why did you help me?"
The man smiled faintly, brushing off his shoulder, "Let's just say… not everyone in a cloak is your enemy."
Clint didn't lower his guard.
"Try again," he said, voice low. "Because if you're one of them, I'll knock your teeth in before they even catch up."
The man chuckled under his breath, then slowly reached up to his hood.
"Alright, alright. No need to threaten me again," he said, pulling the dark cloak back.
Under the hood was a sharp face—young, maybe Clint's age, with bright blue eyes that almost glowed under the moonlight and messy blond hair that fell slightly over his forehead. He looked clean, too clean to be one of those creepy robed summoners.
"Name's Vale," he said with a grin. "And I just saved your life."