Tave stepped slowly from the thick shadows of the trees, the darkness still clinging to his figure like a second skin. Ahead of him, a clearing opened under the pale moonlight, where a group of demons stood frozen in confusion.
They had been chasing something. But now… they'd found nothing.
No prey. No targets. Just empty ground and silent trees.
And Tave smiled, just a little.
Was it wrong to feel proud of this?
Of what he'd orchestrated?
Because fighting creatures with intelligence was far more dangerous than mindless beasts. These weren't monsters that lunged blindly, driven by raw instinct alone.
These things thought. They strategized.
And because they could think. They could be misled. They could be tricked. They could be played.
He remained cloaked in shadow when the ground behind the demons shuddered.
A deep, vibrating thud rippled through the soil.
And then, from the swamp, something massive rose from below.
