I narrowed my eyes, watching the cloaked figure up ahead. His left leg moved strangely, stiff and uneven. For a man trying to flee, he wasn't fast enough. His stride had a noticeable drag, as if he'd once injured it badly and never fully recovered.
'Perfect.'
I raised my crossbow, steadying my breath as I took aim at his weakened leg. The injury was slowing him just enough. My finger squeezed the trigger, and with a sharp twang, the bolt flew.
"Argh!"
The bolt struck his calf, and he staggered, caught off guard. He let out a grunt of pain but didn't fall. Instead, he stumbled forward, his steps faltering. Each one was slower, his balance slipping with every stride.
"Stop, you bastard!" I shouted, my voice cold, sharp like flint. "I'll shoot you again if you don't stop this instant. And the next shot will be fatal."
