The sun had barely risen when Aryan and Kale left the forest behind. They followed a winding dirt path that led east, their feet crunching against gravel as the trees thinned and open fields began to stretch in every direction. In the distance, the silhouette of a city emerged from the haze—Clanda City.
"That's it," Kale said, squinting ahead. "Clanda. We're getting close."
Aryan gave a short nod, his eyes sharp with focus. "If the rumors are true, one of Blade's leaders is here. We can't afford to miss this chance."
The city was lively even in the early hours. Merchants shouted over each other in the crowded streets, carts rolled by with fruits, cloth, and tools, and children darted between legs, laughing. But behind the usual bustle, Aryan felt something else. A tension. Like a string pulled too tight.
"You feel it too?" Kale muttered as they walked deeper into the city.
"Yeah. The air's off," Aryan replied.
As they turned a corner into a quieter alley near the market square, they were suddenly surrounded.
Five men stepped out from the shadows. Thin, hungry eyes. Ragged clothes. Each armed—rusty knives, iron rods, one with a small dagger glowing faintly.
"Well, look what we got here," the tallest thief sneered. "Travelers with heavy pockets."
"Wrong alley, boys," Kale said, reaching for his sword.
"I was about to say the same thing," Aryan muttered.
The first thief lunged forward, blade swinging wildly—but before he could reach, Aryan raised his hand.
A wave of frost exploded from beneath the thieves' feet, locking their boots to the cobblestones in a burst of icy blue. They yelped in confusion, trying to move—too late.
Aryan rushed forward, fists clenched. The first thief received a punch to the jaw that knocked him flat. The second barely had time to react before Aryan drove a knee into his gut. The frozen feet made them easy targets, and Aryan didn't hold back.
Kale watched, impressed. "Remind me never to piss you off in winter."
But then—one of the thieves screamed. His boots shattered as his legs moved at inhuman speed. A blur of motion.
"Quick Pluse," Aryan said, barely in time.
The thief zipped behind him and struck. Aryan staggered forward, shoulder sliced, blood soaking his sleeve. The thief grinned, about to land another blow—
—when Kale appeared like lightning.
Steel clashed. Kale's blade met the thief's dagger mid-swing, sparks flying. In one fluid motion, Kale ducked low and swept the thief's legs. The man stumbled, and Kale drove his elbow into his chest, knocking the wind out of him.
"He's fast," Kale muttered. "But not smart."
The thief tried to scramble up again, but Kale's blade rested against his throat.
"Don't move," Kale warned.
The others, still frozen, stared in horror. Aryan walked back over, wiping blood from his arm.
"I let my guard down," he said. "That won't happen again."
The quick Pluse thief growled. "You think you're strong? You think you can just walk in here and—"
Aryan slammed a fist into the stone wall beside the thief's head, cracking it. The thief shut up instantly.
"Tell Blade we're coming," Aryan said. "And we're not hiding."
They left the alley, leaving behind five broken thieves—four still stuck to the ground, one moaning in the dust.
Later that evening, Aryan and Kale stood outside a small inn tucked between two old buildings. A crooked sign read The Traveler's Rest.
"It's not much," Kale said, "but it'll do."
"As long as the bed doesn't collapse, I'm good," Aryan replied.
They entered and paid the innkeeper—a stout woman with suspicious eyes. Their room was upstairs, small but clean, with two beds and a window overlooking the western gate.
Aryan sat on the bed and peeled off his coat, revealing the wound. Kale tossed him a small vial.
"Healing sap. Not as good as Pluse healing, but it'll stop the bleeding."
Aryan winced as he poured it over the gash. "Thanks."
Kale sat opposite him, his sword leaning against the wall.
"You did good back there," he said. "You kept your cool."
Aryan gave a tired smile. "Felt good to finally hit something."
They both chuckled.
Silence settled for a moment.
"Tomorrow," Kale said, voice quiet, "we start digging. For the Blade member. If he's really here, it won't be long before he hears we're in town."
"Let him come," Aryan said. His eyes burned like coals. "I want him to."
Outside, the city lights flickered as night deepened. Somewhere out there, Blade was watching.
But Aryan and Kale weren't running anymore.
They had arrived.
And the hunt had truly begun.