Although the tension was palpable, he didn't seem to care at all. That small, snickering smile — like he expected my behavior — never left his face. His eyes were constantly scanning the room, calculating, analyzing everything. Creepy bastard.
"Roy, let's focus on the matter at hand now," Anna said, turning toward me."I understand you have your doubts about Sir Munroe, but this isn't the time."
Her voice was calm, but firm.
I glanced at her. After our last fight, I assumed she was still ignoring me — avoiding me, even. But it didn't seem like that anymore.
Still, whatever this was between us, now wasn't the time. I backed off, choosing not to escalate things any further. No point in turning this into a full-blown scene.
"Right…" I said with a nod. "Back to the important part. Here's my reasoning—"
I began explaining everything I'd pieced together so far.
My thoughts, surprisingly, aligned with Munroe's on most points. Throughout the whole farce, my father barely said a word — just observed the situation, stepping in only when a command or clarification was needed.
Most of the discussion was led by me, Jack, Uncle Jon — and occasionally Lara would chime in. Eventually, we agreed to move forward with a proper investigation: both the soldiers stationed near that area, and the residents living close by.
But there was one thing I knew I had to do myself — return to that area, but this time... at night.
Me and Jack were already in on the plan. But this time, we had someone new joining us — Nero. Alice wanted to come too, of course, but I gave her a separate job: to watch the guards stationed near the suspect zones and report any changes in their behavior.
Night patrols weren't exactly routine for us. We had to stay alert. Hyper-aware.
More specifically... Nero who wasn't used to it at all.
I told my father to send a few envoys to the main Neandth border gate, just to have some general talks with the stationed guards. Nothing official — just enough to keep them busy, so our patrolling could slip through without raising alarms.
Of course, my father was already a step ahead. He'd discreetly placed a number of his trusted allies along key positions and had already ordered Munroe to infiltrate Neandth and stir up a little chaos — just enough to get the wrong eyes looking the wrong way.
Everything was set. Everyone in position.
And so, under the cover of moonlight, we began our silent probing.
"The plan's about to start. If the bait is thrown clean... the prey has no choice but to chase it."
And when they do—"We'll be waiting in the dark... teeth bared."
Me and Jack moved toward the right flank, while Nero and Klein circled left. Like before, we didn't charge in — instead, we slipped into the shadows, crouching low behind the thick brush.
I covered myself in a thin layer of mana. It dulled my presence — not completely, but enough. Still not sure how it actually worked. I was just copying what Jack was doing beside me.
"It still needs a lot of improvement," he whispered without looking at me,"...but for a first timer, not bad at all."
We pressed forward, our senses sharpened.
Every sound felt louder in the silence — the rustle of leaves, distant crickets, the crunch of dry soil under boots. There was no moon tonight. No lamplight either. Just pitch black.
It helped. The darkness was our ally.
I shifted my mana again, this time directing it to sharpen my five senses. My breath slowed. My steps got lighter.
Time passed. We didn't know how long we had been hiding. The night dragged on like a slow breath — still, silent… peaceful.
Too peaceful.
"Too quiet," I muttered. "Let's dig a bit deeper."
"Mm," Jack nodded.
We moved further in.
That's when we saw them — dozens of thatched holes scattered across the terrain. Unlike before, they weren't hidden, they were just there, in plain sight. Like whoever made them no longer cared about hiding.
And that's when I saw it.
My heart froze. My body tensed.
From one of the holes… a figure crawled out. Not a soldier. Not a beast.
A villager.
He still looked pale and sick — like most of them — but there was something wrong. His movements were steady. Eyes clear. His skin… just slightly healthier than what I'd seen in the outer slums.
It didn't make sense.
I could feel the blood draining from my face.
"What the hell…?"
"Fck… fck... a villager? "My thoughts raced. So, they've been spying on their own? Manipulating them? Bloody hell…
Just as I tried to expand my vision, the next twist slammed down.
From the shadows, a man stepped out. A beak-shaped mask. Thin, eerie. Leather-stitched. He wasn't watching. He was ordering.
The villager in front of him swayed slightly, his head nodding to the man's every word like a mindless puppet.
"Wait..." I whispered. "Puppet... Aah, sht—* the potion. "I turned to Jack. One glance — he already knew. We'd both put the pieces together.
We crept closer, trying to hear more, to see more.
But in a blink, the masked man vanished. No sound. No warning.
It was like he was never there. Pitch black again. Not even a flicker of mana.
And then—
"Now you've become the rats, you know."
A voice — deep, mocking — behind us.
"Sh*t."
"F*ck."
We spun around, weapons drawn.
There he was. The masked figure.
He stood casually, leather beak mask glowing faintly under the moonlight. The eyepieces were glassy and cold, reflecting nothing. The entire mask was brown, stitched together crudely. Old blood stained the leather. His aura? Wrong. Just wrong.
Slim frame. Average height. But around him — a thick miasma of death. His presence wasn't just menacing. It was curious — like he'd just discovered a new toy.
"So…" he said, voice slick with malice, "What are you gonna do now?"
With a slow motion, he drew a pair of kusarigama — chained sickles that gleamed like they'd been used a thousand times.