The air in the village felt heavy—too still for a place supposedly free of trouble.
Kyle walked down the uneven dirt path, his eyes sweeping over the crooked wooden houses, the shuttered windows, and the way every villager he passed stiffened before silently stepping aside.
It wasn't fear of strangers in general—they weren't panicked, just… avoiding. Avoiding him.
Bruce frowned at the odd silence.
"Young master, should I look around and ask what's going on?"
Kyle didn't slow his pace.
"You're free to do as you wish."
Bruce gave a short nod and broke away, circling toward a few men who were repairing a fence.
His voice was polite, his stance unthreatening, but they muttered excuses and walked off without meeting his gaze.
Every attempt—whether from Bruce, Melissa, or Silvy—ended the same. Doors shut. Conversations cut short.
Bruce returned after a few minutes, shaking his head grimly.
"No one's talking. They're either scared or… hiding something."
