Under the dark velvet blanket of the galaxy above, the cold breeze whispered through the empty streets of the district, its icy fingers tracing the edges of the buildings. The silence was thick and suffocating, broken only by the creak and groan of shop doors swaying under the wind's relentless touch.

Kal, Bako, and Bili stood back-to-back, their bodies tense as drawn bows, faces shifting in three different directions, scanning the rooftops, windows, and shadow-choked alleyways. Their senses were on high alert, every nerve strung tight as the tension in the air wrapped around their tendons like icy chains.

The streets felt like a breath held too long, waiting to be exhaled. Then, it snapped. From the shadows of the alleyway Kal faced, two knives tore through the darkness, their hissing flight slicing the silence like venomous serpents.

With lightning precision, Kal's hand shot to his back, drawing his axe in one fluid motion. The first blade met the singing steel of his weapon, deflecting off with a sharp clang, spinning wildly before clattering onto the solid ground. The second knife came a split second later, but Kal's reflexes were merciless, he tilted his axe, using its flat edge to bat the blade aside, sending it spiraling toward a nearby fruit stand. The knife buried itself into a melon with a soft thud, splitting it open as juice bled from the wound like it was flesh.

The sudden attack snapped Bako's attention from the inn's direction. His eyes darted sideways, following the sound of metal against metal. But in that fleeting moment of distraction, a third knife emerged from the shadows above the inn top, cutting through the cold air with deadly intent.

It was too late to dodge. Bako's instincts flared, and he thrust up his right palm, attempting to catch the knife mid-air. The blade sank deep into his flesh, its bite tearing a raw scream from his throat. He buckled forward, his face contorted in pain as he clutched his bleeding wrist with his left hand, his body trembling from the shock.

Bili and Kal were at his side in an instant. "Hey! What's wrong?" Bili's voice cracked with alarm, but Bako could only grimace, his breath ragged, his lips sealed by the pain. Instead, he jerked his chin upward, pointing toward the roof of the inn with his uninjured hand.

Kal and Bili followed his gaze. A lone figure stood silhouetted against the night, perched on the rooftop like a vulture waiting for its prey. The dim starlight glinted off the jagged red trousers that hung low on his hips, his upper body bare, revealing a broad chest marred with old, jagged scars that told tales of battles long past.

Bili knelt beside Bako, carefully prying the blade from his palm, while Kal tightened his grip on his axe, his knuckles whitening as his eyes burned with simmering rage.

The man on the roof let out a low, mocking laugh, his voice a sinister melody that echoed through the hollow streets. "Hah! Impressive reflexes… though still weak." His grin stretched wide, feral and sharp. "I thought only your leader had moves like that."

Kal's voice cut through the air, calm yet seething. "Don't you think it's rude to attack from the shadows when you want to start a fight?" His eyes locked onto the figure, unblinking, unwavering. The man's laughter deepened, his eyes glinting with malice. "Careful with your words," he sneered, flipping a knife into the air and catching it effortlessly in his right hand. "We didn't start this fight. You did the moment you stepped into our territory."

He balanced precariously on the inn's edge, the knife gleaming like a predator's tooth. But before he could make his next move, a voice, smooth and lazy as a summer breeze, drifted from the shadows behind him. "As much as I'd love to watch more of your show, I can't allow any more damage to the shops and goods around here."

The voice was calm, but it held a weight that pressed against the bones, a presence that shifted the air itself. Kal's eyes narrowed, recognizing the familiar tone. The man on the roof stiffened, his confidence evaporating like morning mist. His fingers clenched tightly around the knife, blade turned backward, and with a desperate snarl, he spun on his heel, striking toward the source of the voice. The knife shattered on impact. The man froze, his eyes wide with disbelief as he stared at the figure before him.

The shadows receded just enough to reveal Nyxander's face, half-covered by his hand as he yawned, utterly unimpressed. He didn't even glance at the broken blade, as if the attack had been no more bothersome than a mosquito's bite. "Why the sudden scary face?" Nyxander's voice was laced with mockery, his eyes gleaming with quiet amusement. With a flick of his middle finger, he tapped the man's forehead, a simple, almost lazy gesture.

But the effect was instantaneous. The attacker's footing vanished beneath him, his body slipping on the rooftop's slick surface. He tumbled uncontrollably, his limbs flailing as he rolled off the edge, crashing onto the solid ground below with a sickening thud.

The silence that followed was suffocating, the tension in the air coiling tighter around Kal, Bili, and Bako as they stood beneath the dark sky, the faint glow of the galaxy above watching like a silent witness to the unfolding chaos.

Nyxander's gaze shifted like a blade toward the dark alleyway where the first attack had originated. His eyes, sharp and unyielding, locked onto two hidden figures, their glinting pupils barely visible within the suffocating shadows. But that fleeting connection was enough.

A cold, invisible hand gripped their spines, sending an uncontrollable tremor through their bodies. Sweat beaded on their foreheads despite the night's chill, their hearts pounding like drums in a funeral march. Nyxander's gaze wasn't just a look, it was a warning etched into their bones.

The fallen attacker, still sprawled on the ground, tried to shuffle back on his butt, fear written across his face as Nyxander's piercing eyes shifted back to him.

Without a word, Nyxander leapt down, landing softly beside the man, his back now facing the alleyway. The ease of his movement, like a predator toying with its prey, sent another wave of dread rippling through the attackers still hiding in the dark.

"How's the wound?" Nyxander asked casually, his voice smooth and steady, as though the chaos around him was nothing more than background noise. His gaze remained fixed on the attacker, not sparing a glance at his own men.

"The bleeding's stopped," Bili responded, glancing briefly at Bako's injured wrist. "The cut's already starting to heal. Thankfully, the pill's effect hasn't worn off yet."

Their calm conversation began to fracture the tension in the air, like the first cracks in an icy surface before it shatters. But just as the atmosphere seemed to ease, two more knives sliced out of the dark alleyway, whistling through the cold night air, aimed straight for Nyxander's back.

Kal's eyes widened in alarm. He was too far to intervene in time, but his voice rang out in warning. "Boss, dodge!" But Nyxander didn't move. The knives pierced through the fabric of his clothes, their sharp edges gleaming under the faint light. Yet the moment they touched his skin, they clattered harmlessly to the ground, as if repelled by an invisible barrier.

Nyxander turned his head slightly, offering Kal a calm, almost amused smile. "Do I really need to come over there to drag you both out?" His voice was light, but the weight behind his words was unmistakable. The two attackers hiding in the alley finally understood. His first glance hadn't been a mistake. It had been a warning, and they had ignored it.

Slowly, like shadows reluctantly peeling away from the night, they emerged from the darkness, their hands trembling as Bili and Bako approached. Without resistance, their hands were yanked behind their backs and tied tightly with strips of cloth. "Take them inside the inn," Nyxander instructed, his voice a quiet authority that brooked no argument.

The two ambushers, along with their fallen leader, were herded inside, their footsteps echoing off the cobblestone streets. Bili and Bako flanked them, while Kal followed close behind, his eyes still flickering with a mix of caution and curiosity. Nyxander lingered at the rear, his gaze sweeping the now-empty alleyway, as if daring any other hidden foes to reveal themselves.

As Kal reached the doorway of the inn, he paused, his hand hovering over the wooden frame. Something gnawed at him, a question he could no longer hold back. He turned, his eyes meeting Nyxander's. Nyxander raised an eyebrow, sensing the hesitation. "What's wrong?"

Kal's voice was low, but firm. "When you decided to give that sack of money at the wrecked restaurant… I thought you noticed the presence of the restaurant owner there." He paused, watching Nyxander's reaction closely. "But when that same man showed up here at the inn, before you even left for your room, you didn't react. It was like you didn't recognize him. And yet… he recognized me. I'm one of the ones who wrecked his place, after all."

Nyxander's gaze grew distant for a moment, his mind slipping into the depths of his thoughts. "Back then… To observe the fight from the ground floor, I had manipulated the fabric of space around him, liquefying it with his ability. Through the waves produced by this altered space, I could sense the positions of everyone in the building, their movements like ripples in a pond. That's how he had known about the man's presence. But recognizing a presence… was not the same as identifying it."

Nyxander's eyes refocused, his attention snapping back to Kal. "Sensing someone's presence and recognizing who they are… those are two different things," he explained calmly, his voice a soothing balm against Kal's rising concerns. He stepped closer, placing a reassuring hand on Kal's shoulder. "And there's no problem with him recognizing you. We've paid for the damages, and even gone beyond that. He's compensated for his losses, enough to keep him afloat until everything's repaired."

Kal nodded slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing under Nyxander's steady gaze. "Thanks, Boss," he murmured, his voice filled with both respect and relief. With that, he turned and disappeared into the inn to join the others. Nyxander watched him for a moment, his expression unreadable in the dim light, before finally following him inside, leaving the silent streets behind, their echoes swallowed by the night.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.