The active carriage emitted a low pulse of mana.
Aria noticed it not by the glow, but by the sound—a deep, almost imperceptible hum that vibrated on the rails embedded in the floor. She stood still in the shadow of a column, breathing slowly, while her eyes scanned every detail.
The carriage's side seal—a hexagon divided by three vertical lines—lit up and then went out.
Mobile safe.
Runic shielding.
Quick transfer.
"Of course…" she murmured, instinctively reaching for her sword hilt. "They always complicate things."
Six outer guards. Two near the carriage doors. A driver. None of them seemed tense. None seemed to expect trouble.
Classic mistake.
Aria glided forward unhurriedly.
She didn't run.
She didn't need to.
When the first guard turned his face, he felt only the wind—and then nothing. The sword's hilt struck just below the ear, dislocating him before his body hit the ground. Aria held his weight, slowly bracing him against the wall.
