The First Men Chronicles

Chapter 44: Title: The Sentinel of Nagurskoye

The cold bit at their skin as Draven led the way, his steps precise and unyielding, cutting through the frost-covered ground like a predator in pursuit. His eyes, sharp and calculating, swept across the desolate military compound, noting every structure, every possible exit, and every potential threat.

The Huey clone walked beside him, his wooden face eerily lifelike despite its artificial form. "The Hybrid is beneath Nagurskoye," he explained, voice smooth but firm. "There's a hidden bunker underground where they've been keeping it."

Draven exhaled, his breath turning to mist as he spoke. "Fine. Lead the way."

As soon as those words left his mouth, two Russian soldiers, clad in thick coats and fur hats, emerged from the fog, rifles aimed directly at them.

"Кто вы такие?!" one barked. "Who are you?! State your business!"

Draven was already moving, his instincts sharpening, ready to cut them down—

But Kenzy moved first.

"Hold up," Kenzy muttered, stretching his neck with a slight smirk. "No need for you to dirty your hands on small fries like these."

Then, in a flash of motion, Kenzy disappeared.

By the time anyone processed his movement, he was already behind the soldiers.

Two heads rolled onto the icy ground.

Blood painted the white snow as their bodies collapsed with a dull thud.

Kenzy let out a mock sigh, turning around and spreading his arms wide. "Well?" he grinned. "Aren't I just wonderful?"

Before Draven could answer, the ground beside him shifted,His sword shot up from the ice,Draven's instincts kicked in instantly. He snatched the hilt mid-air, his grip firm as he shot forward like a serpent in flight, his black coat billowing against the icy wind. His expression remained cold, his entire form a blur as he closed the distance toward Kenzy,But just as he prepared to swing—

BOOM!

A massive hand crashed down from above,Draven barely had time to react.

CLAAAANG!

His blade met the attack in midair. The impact sent shockwaves rippling through the frost, kicking up snow and sending Kenzy tumbling backward. The ground beneath them shattered from the force.

Draven's eyes snapped upward.

A towering figure loomed over him.

Tall—at least 7.5 feet, clad in a dark Russian military coat, his slender frame deceptively powerful. The man's entire form seemed to waver, like a mirage slipping in and out of existence. His cold, piercing eyes locked onto Draven with quiet amusement.

He spoke, his deep Russian accent thick and deliberate.

"Boom."

Draven's muscles tensed instinctively. He grabbed Kenzy by the collar and leaped backward, dragging him away from the strike zone.

But nothing happened,No explosion. No attack.

Boris laughed.

"Relax," he said, flexing his fingers. "I was simply mimicking the sound of my punch landing against your sword."

Draven's eyes narrowed.

Boris straightened his coat, brushing the frost off his sleeves. "You lot have made quite the mess," he mused, glancing at the headless soldiers staining the snow red. "And now I wonder…" His gaze drifted toward them lazily. "Who will clean this up?"

Draven turned to Huey's clone.

"Who is he?"

The clone responded, tone cautious. "That is Boris, an SS-Rank Hunter. Be careful."

Draven's grip on his sword tightened.

"Shen suppression technique…" he muttered, his mind processing what just happened. "That's why Kenzy didn't sense him at all, All thanks to that Snake ritual I can't sense when people suppress but I can see them if they're hidden"

Kenzy, who had barely caught his breath, let out a nervous laugh. "You're telling me this guy was here the whole time? I didn't even feel his presence!"

Boris chuckled. "That's the point, little one."

From behind, Gansu stepped forward.

"Draven," he said. "We don't know his abilities yet. Jumping in headfirst might be suicide. Let me go against him first."

Draven remained silent for a moment—then nodded.Gansu's hand began to drip with venomous liquid.The battle was about to start.