"Beat you in a fight?!" Zeff repeated in disbelief.

"What? You can't beat an old man?" Sylvan jeered. "Don't hit me too hard! Your ol' gran'pappy still has his dentures in!" As he said that his body shook and he hunched his back like an elderly person. He even changed his voice so that he sounded like a typical grandpa, then returned to his fighting stance.

Zeff flared his nostrils in frustration. What was this old man trying to do?

But then again... He wasn't just any old man. Zeff took notice of his fighting stance. He had both his arms lifted up so that his fists were just to the side of each of his eyebrows, just like an old-school boxer. He bounced on the balls of his feet and stared out from behind his arms like a turtle in his shell.

"So is it a deal?" asked Sylvan, stopping his bouncing for a moment to listen to Zeff's reply.

Zeff thought for a minute.

Sylvan didn't seem too strong by his estimation... Yeah, he had caught Zeff off guard before... But that wouldn't happen a second time. And what was the downside if he lost? If Sylvan wouldn't help him, he would help himself. He really meant that. But if he did manage to beat him he would have an ally and find his father and mother sooner. "Okay. Let's do it!" he decided.

Sylvan resumed bouncing and reminded Zeff, "I only have about 10 minutes of power use. If you are still standing after that, you win."

"And what's to stop me from just running?" Zeff asked with a perplexed smirk.

But Sylvan only responded as cold as ice, "It makes no difference to me what you do, whelp."

Zeff furrowed his brow. He had no idea what a whelp was but—

"A whelp is another word for a puppy, by the way; because I'm about to potty train you, boy."

"O-oh, y-yeah?!" Zeff retorted, a bit flustered by the trash talk. "Well... I-I'm gonna bring your old a** some prune juice after I beat you..."

"Sure, whatever..." Responded Sylvan, unimpressed. "Now, come, boy!"

Zeff simply stood there not knowing what to do or how to begin. He had never been in a fight before. Well, that wasn't completely true... Since he put on the dracoRex he had been in two fights... kinda. One with the police and another with Sylvan. But in those fights he had only reacted to threats or reacted in rage.

'Rage?' He thought. 'dRas can you activate rage without me being in a high state of negative emotion?' He didn't know if dRas could reply to questions, but he got his answer when there came no response from him.

He began to circle Sylvan as he thought about what he should do.

'Maybe dRas can't answer but, perhaps... dRas, Activate the reActive skill: Dragon's rage!'

No response.

'Oh, well, I—'

*Poom!*

Something suddenly hit Zeff in the chest, and the next second he was looking up at the sky, the trees whizzing by like he was flying while laying down. "W-wh—"

*Doom*

Something hit him on the side of his face mid-flight with the force of an anvil dropped from 10 meters high, sending him corkscrewing through the air until he hit the ground with a loud *thud*.

'Are the Rings of Rutigorn here?! Did they attack us before we could start our fight?!' Zeff thought in a daze as he did his absolute best to stand to his feet. "Sylvan! We gotta—"

He stopped short. Just in front of him about 5 meters away, bouncing on the balls of his feet, was old-man Sylvan. His face was cold, yet intense. His eyes were full of fire, the sort of which, Zeff had never seen before.

Zeff hadn't yet processed what was happening when Sylvan suddenly took a step toward him. The smallest of steps that was so small it could hardly be called a step at all.

*shoop*

Suddenly Sylvan was directly before Zeff's very eyes, having moved inexplicably five meters almost instantaneously, and startling Zeff causing him to swing his right arm in a wide, frenzied arc, aiming for the left side of Sylvan's face.

Sylvan, as nimble as a cobra, merely pulled his head back a few centimeters causing Zeff's wild haymaker to fly by harmlessly, just missing his nose by a hair's breath. In the next moment, before Zeff had even realized that he had missed, Sylvan closed the distance between them and caught Zeff twice in the body with two well placed jabs. He followed up with a right-straight to the face and, as Zeff reeled back from the blow, Sylvan caught him by his long hair with his left and pulled his head down, bringing his knee up into Zeff's nose.

A spray of blood went into the air as the world began to spin, Zeff falling to his knees with Sylvan holding him tightly by the hair all the while.

Sylvan drew near so that his mouth was practically touching Zeff's ear and crooned, "What's wrong, little pup? Where did all that bravado go? I'm still waiting on my prune juice."

Zeff could feel his ears burning for embarrassment. "You sonnavuh—!!" He began, throwing another wild punch at Sylvan's face. It was a futile attempt, however, as Sylvan quickly and violently jerked Zeff downward by his hair, disrupting the trajectory of the punch.

The next second, he took Zeff by the seat of his trousers with his free hand and tossed him effortlessly upward through the tops of the trees.

After a few long seconds Zeff hit the ground with a loud thump and a short bounce.

He had hardly hit the ground when someone's powerful grip took him by the ankle and flung him through the air like he was a rag doll.

*Crash!* said a tree as Zeff's Armored body cut it in half like a samurai sword through a wet tatami mat.

He flew several meters, bounced off the ground like a stone off of water, and then still several more before he skidded to a stop just in front of a large oak tree. The same oak tree Sylvan had sat under before.

He opened his eyes, staggered to his feet, and looked in the direction from which he was thrown. But no one was there! Just a plume of dirt, as though—

"Where are you looking, whelp?" Came Sylvan's low voice from behind Zeff.

Zeff twirled on his heels, throwing a desperate hook in an attempt to land a punch on Sylvan. But it was utterly fruitless.

Behind him the doctor, still with his hands up like a vintage boxer, merely bent low at the hips like he was trying to lean down and look under a car, dodging the punch altogether.

Zeff's punch hit more than air, however. He struck the massive oak tree with such force that he reduced it to toothpicks and leaves.

Sylvan, coming out of his stance, transitioned seamlessly into a ferocious upper cut that connected with Zeff's chin and sent him flying straight upward as though shot from a cannon.

*shoop*

Before Zeff could even fly through the tops of the trees, Sylvan was above him, already winding up his next punch. *Powm* said Sylvan's fist on Zeff's face. Zeff continued to fly upward, but instead of flying straight up, after the punch to the face, he began to cartwheel backwards through the air moving at an upward angle. Until he landed with a hard and brutal smack on his back.

"Agh!" Zeff coughed as he slowly stood to his feet yet again, blood dripping down his face into his mouth. "You b*stard!" Zeff roared in rage, red smoke bursting from his body with such force that the leaves, blown by the force of the smoke, began to take to the air as if running from Zeff's furious anger. "I'll kill YOUUOOH—!!" Zeff's enraged scream came out a savagely loud and animalistic roar, terrifying countless birds that each took to the sky in fear, leaving their nests behind.

Zeff had activated the Roar I skill, though he was too enraged to know or care.

*tup... tup... top* went Sylvans bare feet as he strolled casually across the dew-laden woodland grass directly toward Zeff, limping ever so slightly as he always did, completely undeterred by Zeff's roar skill.

Zeff howled into the sky like a mad man and shot forward, making a straight line for Sylvan. "Why won't you help me!?!?" he yelled through tears.

Less than 2 minutes had passed, he was sure, and Sylvan had utterly and decisively beaten him.

"Done already.?" Came Sylvan's stern yet gentle voice.

Zeff didn't immediately reply. He only laid there, small pools of tears forming in his eyes. Then he covered his face with the crook of his elbow and bawled, "Doctor Sylvan, why won't you just help me?! I just want to save my dad!"

Sylvan was quiet for a long time and let Zeff cry a bit longer before he finally said, "Zeff... How do you think we compare? What do you think of my strength?"

"Okay... You're strong and I'm a whelp..." Zeff admitted, still covering his face. "Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"Not at all, boy."

Zeff moved his arm for a moment to look at the doctor's face and see if he was being sincere and could see it almost instantly: The doctor was hurting nearly as much as he was.

"Zeff. In the underworld there are people so much stronger than me... Within the Rings of Rutigorn, they have people that could beat me blindfolded. Why do you think I was running from Zayn?"

Zeff sat up slowly, a look of despair plastered across his face. "Is he really that much stronger than you?!"

"I couldn't even land a punch." Sylvan admitted kurtly, "And have only this limp to show for my trouble."

Zeff's eyes widened in shock.

Sylvan went on, lowering his voice an octave. "And Zayn is only in the Middle Ring. Not even in the upper echelons of the organization..."

Zeff threw himself back to the ground, crossing his arms behind his head as though he were enjoying a day of sunbathing on the beach. He only looked up at the sky thoughtfully, his tears already drying before saying, "Okay... I get you. I'm—" he hesitated to speak for a second and when he finally did, his voice came out strained and weak, "I'm not strong enough."

"Then will you do it my way?"

"I can't promise you that—"

"No. You will promise me."

Zeff sighed. He had no choice in the matter. Of course, he could get up now and walk away. But that would be beyond idiotic. Sylvan was a treasure trove of knowledge and experience. And more importantly, Zeff could tell that Sylvan really had his best interest at heart. He didn't want him to run off to his doom.

Now, with a whole shadowy organization out for him, a knowledgeable ally that really cared was invaluable.

"Okay. I promise." Zeff acquiesced while using the back of his hand to rub blood from his face.

Sylvan let out a sigh of relief. But suddenly black blood began to stream from his nose and ears again. He fell to the ground in exhaustion, coughing profusely all the while.

"I'm sorry, Doc! I shoulda just gone along with you from the start!" Zeff admitted as he rushed to Sylvan's side to comfort him and make sure he was okay.

*bonk* Sylvan hit Zeff cleanly across his thick skull. "Yes, boy. You should have!!" he grumbled, his face stern. But after a second he began to smile warmly and said, "But that wasn't bad for an old man, huh?"

Zeff, rubbing his tender head, answered with a surprised and incredulous head wag, "'Not bad?!' I hardly could keep up with you! You were incredible! Where did you learn to fight like that?"

Sylvan sat up. "My Father, Damian White, was a world class pugilist... and gangster for most of my younger years. After he got out of that life and became something of a family man, he taught me, a child, everything he knew about street fighting." Sylvan laughed as he recollected his father. "He was so desperate to connect with me but all he knew was fighting..."

Zeff made a strange face, that was a blend of longing, jealousy, and admiration.

"He died when I was 16, boy. I spent the next 80 odd years without him..." Zeff flinched as Sylvan seemingly read his mind. "You will save your father. I promise." Then he rubbed the blood from under his ears and thought to himself, 'If not with me, then with other allies.'

*****

After Zeff and Sylvan had gone back to the house and had a meal, Sylvan sat Zeff down in the house's amazing designer kitchen (since the living room was practically destroyed).

"What's your plan, old man?" Said Zeff with a look of displeasure. He had always been independent, even when he had been shipped from house to house through the foster care system, he had always done his own thing. Being forced to go along with someone else's plan, even when he could clearly see that it was for his own good, left a bad taste in his mouth. But he would suffer in silence.

"My plan to do what, Zeff-boy?" came Sylvan's terse response. His eyes were intense and serious, yet there was a kindness in them that seemed to contradict his words.

"What do you mean?! Your plan to save my dad!"

"That is not my plan, boy..."

"But you said—"

"I said I would train you, but for the purpose of keeping you alive. Not saving your dad." Zeff was about to protest but Sylvan continued before he could. "Boy. You CAN NOT save your dad as you are now and certainly not alone! You need help."

"Where am I going to find help to take down the Rings?!" Zeff asked, almost laughing from the ridiculousness of the whole idea. "I don't suppose the US army is willing to come along with me on my misadventure!"

"Ah, you laugh. Yet you think the idea of you somehow fighting alone is realistic."

Zeff was taken aback by Sylvan's brutal candor.

Sylvan went on, "Do you think everyone in the underworld is a part of the Rings?"

"W-what?" Zeff sputtered in surprise. "I don't understand. I thought 'the underworld' was code for 'the underbelly of society', or something. But you don't mean—"

"I said what I meant and I meant what I said, boy. The Underworld is a place, a whole other world, apparently... A world with its own societies, with its own never before seen cultures and peoples. I plan to introduce you to that world. And there, we will gather allies, we'll take down the Rings, and save your dad."

"So... *Apparently*, there's another world out there somewhere...? And did you see this world yourself?"

"W-well, I have never been there... But I have good reason to believe it exists..."

Zeff didn't know what to say to that. Truth be told, he would believe it when he saw it. And he didn't care about allies, or 'taking down' the Rings. He had only found out about them days ago. But if that's what he would have to do to save his dad, if he had to travel to some other world, so be it. For now he would trust Sylvan.

After a long pause he asked, "So, where do we start?"

"Nothing's changed. I will train you as we make our way to Doctor Fynn, the man I mentioned the night I gave you that ring. He has connections to the Underworld. He'll get us in.