Kazaf: The upside down

Kazaf's fists remained clenched as he strode down the university's walkway, his mind racing. His mother was in danger. He needed a plan, and he needed it fast. Cholo followed closely behind, his sharp gaze scanning the crowd, as if expecting an attack at any moment.

"We can't just rush in without knowing what we're up against," Cholo said, his tone calm but firm. "You need more than anger to win this fight."

Kazaf shot him a sharp look. "And what do you suggest? Sit back and let them find her first?"

Cholo exhaled and ran a hand through his hair. "No. But if we charge in blind, we're only going to make things worse."

Kazaf hated to admit it, but Cholo was right. His mother had spent years hiding from the cultivator world, evading the enemies who wanted to punish her for running away. If she was in danger now, that meant those enemies had finally found a way to track her. He needed to be smart about this.

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to think clearly. "Do you know exactly who's after her?"

Cholo nodded. "Jalwa's people."

Kazaf's stomach twisted at the name. Jalwa—the Dark Master. A ruthless cultivator who commanded absolute fear in the world his mother had escaped from. If he was involved, this wasn't just a small hunt. This was a declaration of war.

Kazaf's jaw tightened. "If Jalwa sent his people, that means they won't stop until they have her."

Cholo nodded grimly. "And if they find you, they'll drag you back to their world as well. A halfbreed like you is an insult to them. You know that."

Kazaf did know. He had spent his entire life trying to ignore the hatred cultivators had for his kind. He had trained in secret, pushing his limits, preparing for the day when he would have no choice but to fight. That day had come.

"We have to move," Kazaf said, his voice cold with determination. "Now."

The Hunt Begins

Kazaf and Cholo left the university immediately. The city streets were busy, filled with cars and pedestrians, but Kazaf felt something else lurking beneath the ordinary movements of life. A shadow watching from afar.

"They're already here," he muttered under his breath.

Cholo tensed. "Yeah. I can sense them too."

They took a side street, moving quickly but cautiously. Kazaf's instincts screamed at him to be on high alert. Then, in the reflection of a shop window, he saw them—three figures in dark robes moving through the crowd, their eyes locked onto him.

"They're tracking us," Cholo whispered.

Kazaf didn't respond. Instead, he led Cholo into an alleyway, away from the main streets. The moment they turned the corner, Kazaf spun around and slammed his palm into the brick wall. A pulse of energy shot through the air, creating a barrier behind them.

A second later, the three pursuers appeared at the alley's entrance.

They stopped just outside Kazaf's barrier, their expressions hidden beneath their hoods. The tallest of them, a man with a scar running down his cheek, stepped forward. "Kazaf," he said, his voice smooth but threatening. "You don't need to run. This isn't about you."

Kazaf's eyes burned with anger. "Then why are you following me?"

The man smirked. "Because you're the easiest way to get to her."

Kazaf lunged.

His body moved before his mind could catch up. He crossed the distance between them in an instant, his fist aimed straight at the man's face. But before the hit could land, a burst of energy shot out from the man's palm, knocking Kazaf backward.

He landed hard, skidding across the pavement. Pain flared in his chest, but he forced himself to his feet immediately.

Cholo leaped into action, drawing a dagger from his belt. He slashed at one of the robed figures, forcing them to step back. "Kazaf, we can't take them all here!" he shouted.

Kazaf knew he was right. These weren't ordinary cultivators—they were Jalwa's elites. Fighting them head-on in the middle of the city would be reckless.

"Fine," Kazaf growled. "Then we make a run for it."

Without hesitation, he turned and sprinted down the alleyway, Cholo right behind him. He heard the cultivators shout in anger, their footsteps pounding against the ground as they gave chase.

Kazaf pushed his speed to the limit, weaving through the narrow streets, leaping over fences, and dashing through crowded areas to lose them. But no matter how fast he moved, they stayed on his trail.

Then, as they turned a corner, Cholo suddenly grabbed Kazaf's arm and pulled him into a hidden doorway. They pressed themselves against the wall, holding their breath as the pursuers ran past them.

Silence filled the air.

After a long moment, Cholo whispered, "That was too close."

Kazaf exhaled sharply. "Yeah."

Cholo peered out from their hiding spot. "We have to get out of the city. If they tracked us here, they'll track your mother too."

Kazaf nodded. "We need to find her before they do."

His heart pounded, but his resolve was clear. The hunt was on. And he would do whatever it took to protect his mother.