Night fell over the village like a shroud, cloaking every corner in a deep, oppressive silence. But Kyle was wide awake.
Through the bond he shared with Queen, he felt the disturbance long before any normal person would have noticed it.
Queen, perched far above in the skies, scanned the land below with unblinking vigilance.
The moment even the faintest of movement turned toward Kyle's room, it relayed the signals to him.
A dozen people—no, more—were approaching. Silent, careful, but not careful enough.
Kyle smirked from where he sat in his room, eyes closed in mock rest.
He moved.
Using his precise control over mana, Kyle etched a complex web of runes into the very walls and floor of the room—silent, invisible to the naked eye, but deadly.
The trap wasn't designed to kill, not yet.
It was meant to immobilize. Humiliate. Strip away any sense of stealth his enemies might rely on.
As the first intruders slipped through his door, Kyle didn't even glance their way.
