Silvy led Kyle through the winding paths of Dusk Haze Village, her posture straight but her energy hollow.
"And here are to local shops that will rip you apart if you give them a chance to. Their things are not even authentic. So if you don't want to get ripped off, don't buy from here."
The tour continued with Silvy trying to make small talks all the while and warning Kyle about some shops.
She moved like someone fulfilling an obligation, her voice monotone as she pointed out landmarks—small shops, stalls selling local trinkets, inns that housed merchants, and even a modest temple tucked between buildings.
However, she avoided eye contact and didn't elaborate much beyond what was necessary.
Kyle noticed everything.
"You're a good guide. Maybe you should make this your profession."
Kyle commented as he walked behind her.
She was too practiced, too guarded.
Her steps were mechanical, as though she was only showing him what she had to, and nothing more.
But Kyle didn't comment on it.
If she was hiding something, then pushing her would only make her dig her walls deeper. No—better to play along for now.
When the sun rose higher in the sky and the scent of grilled bread and spiced meats wafted through the streets, Kyle noted the time.
Without much ceremony, Silvy turned to him and said.
"I'll take you somewhere decent for breakfast. Follow me."
She led him to a surprisingly fancy restaurant nestled between a pair of quiet buildings—one of those hidden gems only locals would know about.
The polished wooden sign, the clean curtains, the pleasant aroma inside—it all screamed money.
As they stepped inside, Silvy gestured toward a table in the corner.
"Order whatever you want. They're used to outsiders."
Kyle raised an eyebrow.
"Are you joining me?"
She paused at the question, caught mid-step as she was already turning away.
Her lips thinned slightly, and for the first time all morning, a flicker of genuine emotion crossed her face.
"I… I have a breakfast appointment elsewhere. Something I can't miss because I already paid for it."
She said after a moment. Kyle didn't press.
She hesitated one heartbeat longer before nodding once and walking out.
As the door closed behind her, Kyle casually signaled a waiter.
When the man approached, Kyle slipped a coin into his palm—more than enough for a full day's wage.
"If anyone asks, you tell them I've been here the whole time. Eating. Don't contradict it. No matter what."
The waiter blinked, surprised. But the weight of the coin in his hand quickly smoothed over his doubts. "Understood, sir," he said with a smile, then returned to his duties.
Kyle waited only two minutes.
He stood, stepped outside the back entrance, and summoned a small wisp of mana to scatter a thin veil of fog around the building—nothing too obvious, just enough to distort sight and dull presence.
'I doubt anyone's watching too closely, but better to be sure.'
Once outside, he looked left and right—but Silvy was nowhere in sight.
Then, a sharp cry rang from above. Kyle looked up to see Queen circling far to the east, wings slicing the morning air with purpose.
"Atta boy. Now, show me the way."
He muttered, and set off in the direction it pointed.
He moved quietly, slipping through alleys and between buildings with a natural grace born of long habit.
Kyle didn't need to rush—he just needed to follow.
After about ten minutes of light trailing, he spotted her.
Silvy walked with purpose now, her hood raised to hide her face, and her stride brisk.
She looked far less like a guide and more like someone on a secret mission.
Kyle stayed back, letting the crowd swallow him as she made her way through the heart of the town.
Eventually, she stopped in front of a lavish building that stuck out like a sore thumb amid the rustic charm of the village.
It had a velvet awning, polished wood steps, and the muffled sound of laughter and clinking coins drifting through its windows.
Kyle narrowed his eyes.
Silvy stood outside for a moment, visibly debating something. Her hand tightened slightly around the edge of her cloak. Then, after a long breath, she stepped inside.
Kyle didn't follow—not yet.
He leaned against a nearby wall, folding his arms and pretending to examine a poster for some merchant sale.
'What is a wary, mana-concealing elf doing at a place , right after insisting she had a "breakfast appointment"?'
Something didn't add up.
And if Silvy was hiding something, Kyle was determined to find out what it was.
Kyle leaned against the wall a little longer, weighing his options carefully.
He could try sneaking into the establishment—he had done far more difficult infiltrations in the past.
But something about the building felt off.
There were subtle layers of mana around it, like a quiet pulse in the air. Someone had cloaked it with enchantments. That meant risk.
So, instead of slipping into the shadows, Kyle decided to try something more direct.
He reached into his inner coat and pulled out a plain black mask—something he had prepared for emergencies, when discretion became necessary.
Then, he raised his cloak over his head, tugging it low to obscure the rest of his features.
With a calm, confident pace, Kyle walked toward the gambling house.
The guard stationed at the entrance stiffened the moment he spotted the cloaked figure approaching.
His hand dropped to the hilt of his sword and his posture turned tense.
"Stop right there. This is a private establishment. No unidentified persons are allowed entry. I'll need to confirm your—"
The guard said firmly.
Before he could finish the sentence, Kyle let a sliver of his mana leak into the air.
It wasn't much—just a little flare, barely enough to light a candle in the grand scheme of his power—but it struck like a wave.
The pressure in the air thickened instantly, and the guard's knees buckled.
His face paled, and a bead of sweat rolled down his temple.
The second guard beside him fared no better, trembling as his hands instinctively reached for support.
Kyle didn't say anything. He just stood there, calm and unreadable behind his mask, his aura subtly pressing outward.
'They're stronger than average. Not elite. But trained. Reinforced by something.'
He thought, noticing how the guards—despite clearly being overwhelmed—managed not to drop to the ground.
He was about to press his mana just a little further to make his point—until the heavy doors behind the guards creaked open.
A tall man with silver-lined robes stepped out, his movements fluid and precise.
His presence was immediate.
And most notably, the mana flowing through him was thick, coiled tightly around his body like a sleeping serpent.
The man raised a hand, and the guards immediately stepped aside.
"That's enough. There's no need to test our patience any further. Please, come inside, esteemed guest."
The newcomer said smoothly.
Kyle narrowed his eyes behind the mask.
'That mana… it's powerful and disciplined.'
For the first time since arriving in the village, Kyle felt something akin to caution stir in his chest.
This man wasn't an ordinary lackey.
'This one… could be trouble.'