I stared at the floating blue panel.
Strength A. Agility C. Intelligence B.
My heart pounded against my ribs, but my face remained an unreadable mask. If I confronted this intruder directly, I would be dead before I could even scream. I was a statesman, a master of the mind, not a frontline brawler.
I needed a weapon. Or better yet, a pawn.
I forced myself to look away from the invisible entity. I kept my eyes locked on the coffee plants, pretending to casually inspect the leaves. I needed to slow the situation down. If I panicked, the assassin would strike.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a figure walking down the dirt path. It was Hana. She was taking a late-night stroll, her hands buried deep in her dark cloak to ward off the chill.
Perfect timing.
"Hana," I called out. I kept my voice light, ensuring there was no trace of urgency. "Come here for a moment."
She stopped, looking slightly confused, but she altered her path and walked over to the edge of the field.
As she approached, I casually strolled around the invisible intruder. I calculated the angles precisely. I positioned myself so my back was facing the assassin. I made sure Hana was facing me directly.
And right between us, invisible to her but glowing bright red in my vision, was the rat.
When she was close enough, I leaned in.
"Do not react," I whispered sharply. My tone dropped to a deadly, freezing chill. "There is an invisible spy standing directly in front of you. He is pouring pest poison on our crops. Burn him."
Hana's eyes widened for a fraction of a second. But to her credit, she did not hesitate.
She raised her palm. A violent burst of magical energy flared in the dark.
"Fireball!"
A sphere of scorching flames shot forward, illuminating the night sky. It slammed directly into the empty space in front of her.
The illusion shattered instantly.
Zael, who had been desperately trying to speed up his poisoning process under the cover of stealth, was caught entirely off guard. The explosion of flames engulfed his black robes.
"Arghhh! Damn it!"
He thrashed wildly, his stealth breaking completely. He screamed in agony as the fire rapidly spread across his clothes and skin. He dropped his vials and rolled into the dirt in a sheer panic.
"Fucking shit! Save me, you bastards!"
Hana covered her mouth with her hands. She was trembling, staring at the burning man rolling in the dirt.
"How did you know he was there?" she gasped in sheer disbelief.
I did not answer her. My eyes were fixed on the ground. The fire was spreading from his robes to the dry leaves of my precious coffee crops.
"Grab the water buckets from the well!" I yelled, breaking her out of her shock.
We scrambled to grab the heavy wooden buckets we used for irrigation earlier that day. I hauled the water over, splashing it violently over the assassin and the burning crops until the flames finally hissed, smoked, and died out entirely.
A few minutes later, the entire village was awake.
The culprit was dragged to the center of the square. His hands were bound tightly to a wooden fence post with heavy fishing ropes.
His black robes were scorched and riddled with holes. Painful, blistering burn marks covered his pale skin, especially around his cheeks. He was a tall, scrawny man with messy black hair and striking, panicked red eyes.
The villagers surrounded him, holding torches that cast angry shadows across the square. When they saw the shattered vials of aphid eggs and poison nearby, the ugly truth finally clicked in their minds.
The land was never cursed. Balan village had been actively sabotaging their crops for years.
Furious shouts and curses filled the night air. The fishermen gripped their tools, looking entirely ready to tear the man apart with their bare hands.
I ignored the chaotic mob. I ordered a few of the younger men to grab the garlic-chili pesticide we had prepared.
"Spray the infected crops immediately," I commanded without looking back at them. "Do not let a single pest survive the night."
Once they ran off, I turned my attention to the prisoner. I stepped close to him, my expression freezing cold.
"Who are you? Where do you come from?" I asked softly, yet my voice carried enough weight for the crowd to hear.
"Please forgive me!" Zael screamed hysterically, thrashing against the thick ropes.
"I was forced to do this! I have a sick child at home! She has no mother, and I need the money to buy her medicine!" He sobbed, his red eyes pleading with me. "Do whatever you want to me, but please do not kill me!"
I slammed my open palm against the wooden post right next to his ear.
"ANSWER THE QUESTION!" I roared.
The sheer, dominating force of my voice echoed like thunder across the square. Zael flinched violently, shrinking back against the wood.
"M-my name... argh... my name is Zael, milord!" he stuttered, tears mixing with the black soot on his face. "I am from Balan City. Lord Leonard ordered me to do this. I desperately needed his coin."
I caught a specific word. I narrowed my eyes.
"City? I thought Balan was just a village."
"Tomorrow is the official inauguration, milord," Zael wheezed, gasping for air. "The capital's emissary is upgrading Balan to a City tomorrow."
"Do you regret what you have done here, Zael?" I asked. My voice dropped back to a terrifying, absolute calm.
"I regret it with all my life! I am a sinner! Please!"
The villagers sneered. They spat at his feet and shouted vicious insults, demanding his execution. The noise was beginning to give me a headache.
"All of you. SILENCE!"
My voice cracked like a whip. It was the tone of a dictator. An absolute authority that demanded total submission.
The angry mob instantly fell dead silent. Hana stared at me, visibly shocked by the sheer weight of my presence. Even Oderick, the former chief, took a nervous step back, intimidated by the aura I projected.
I let the heavy silence linger for a moment, letting them feel my control.
"I will handle this man personally," I declared. "Untie him. Bring him inside the chief's house. I am going to have a private discussion with our guest."
The chaotic, screaming night shifted into absolute, tense quiet.
I sat across from Zael in one of the small, enclosed bedrooms inside Oderick's house. The door was locked tight. It was just the two of us. The monster and the pawn.
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. I looked directly into his panicked red eyes.
"I will pay for your child's medicine," I stated plainly. "If you truly regret your actions, you will turn your back on Leonard and work exclusively for me. Do we have a deal?"
Zael looked up, his eyes wide with profound disbelief.
"Yes, milord," he answered without a single second of hesitation. "What do you need me to do?"
I smiled. It was the smile of a predator who had just found the perfect hunting dog.
I laid out my plan. Every detail. Every contingency. I mapped out the exact psychological pressure points we would use against Leonard, turning his own inauguration day into a weapon.
Zael listened in complete, stunned silence. The fear in his eyes slowly transformed into deep, terrifying awe.
"I understand," Zael whispered, shaking his head slightly. "But... to predict that Leonard will summon you tomorrow during his grand festival... your foresight is terrifying, milord."
He bowed his head, wincing as the fresh burns on his cheek stretched.
"Before I do this, please promise me one thing. Let my child stay here in this village. If I fail, and Leonard kills me... please take care of her. I will smuggle her here tomorrow morning before the sun rises."
I looked at him closely, analyzing his emotional state.
"You seem to trust me far more than you trust the Baron," I noted. "Why?"
"Because you threw the water, milord," Zael replied softly, looking at his burned hands. "You could have easily let me burn to death in that field. But you put out the fire. You saved my life."
I kept my face completely neutral.
I did not tell him that I only threw the water because the fire was spreading to my valuable coffee plants. I did not care if he burned to ash, as long as my harvest was safe.
But I was not going to correct him. Let him believe I was a merciful savior. Devotion born from misplaced gratitude made for the most loyal pawns.
"Relax, Zael," I said smoothly. I reached out and gave his unburned shoulder a reassuring pat. "This plan will not fail."