April had arrived in a heartbeat, and in Glasslovar, that meant a world shrouded in a persistent, misty drizzle. Seeing an hour of true sunlight was a rare luxury.
For anyone, the endless rain was a tedious affair, but for those forced to wage war in such conditions, it was a special kind of misery.
Yet, for reasons known only to themselves, the enemy had ramped up their offensive significantly with the turn of the month.
The dampness rendered gunpowder and explosives unreliable, shifting the weight of the conflict onto the shoulders of the Knights.
Richie's squad was stationed near a steep slope bordering a dense forest. They held the high ground, and the recent period of rest and "training" had significantly bolstered the unit's overall strength.
For several days, the attacking Knights had gained no ground, their efforts shattered against the defenses of that slope.
As was her habit, the silent Nora stood atop the ridge, her keen eyes scanning the surroundings. Little could escape her vigil. The rest of the squad huddled under a cluster of tents several dozen meters away.
The canvas blocked the slow, drifting spring rain.
Silence reigned as each person focused on their task.
Richie was crouched on the ground, polishing a Mirror Shield. Its twin was already finished, its surface so bright he could see his reflection with perfect clarity.
Margaret sat beside him, her legs crossed in meditation. She was a woman possessed; the moment she had a free second, she was training.
Richie stole a glance at her and shook his head. He had never met anyone so diligent. In his view, a balance of tension and relaxation was the only way to maintain peak efficiency. Constant effort only led to frayed nerves and diminishing returns.
He glanced outside the tent.
There was someone else who seemed to have lost her mind: Lina. Despite the rain, she was outside, pacing through the mud.
Clad in her Magitech Armor, Lina swung her massive two-handed Greatsword in great, sweeping arcs, occasionally executing a series of phantom strikes.
She wasn't usually this intense.
Richie knew the reason. He had heard from Dana that Lina was on the cusp of a breakthrough.
Breaking through a bottleneck required more than just hard work; it required a spark of inspiration. Lina was out there in the rain, searching for that elusive moment of clarity.
Suddenly, the frantic tolling of a bell made Richie jump to his feet. He dived into his Magitech Armor.
It was Nora. The bell's rhythm was rapid and urgent.
For a woman as stoic and methodical as Nora to sound such an alarm, the situation had to be dire.
Lina, already outside and armored, was the first to react. She covered the distance to the ridge in a few powerful strides.
The others weren't far behind.
Richie was the last to arrive. By the time he reached the slope, the rest of the squad had already formed up.
Several hundred meters below, three enemy Knights were approaching.
The moment Richie saw the lead Knight, his blood ran cold.
He wasn't the alone. Aside from the newcomer Margaret, the entire squad felt a wave of dread.
It was the Knight of Honor they had encountered during their escape from Morena.
Richie had seen this man dismantle seven Republic Knights single-handedly with terrifying ease. It had been his first real lesson in the staggering power gap between Knightly ranks.
"The enemy is a Knight of Honor accompanied by two Ace Knights," Calli's voice crackled over the comms, tense but steady. "The strength gap is too wide. Nora, break formation and call for reinforcements immediately. Lina, you're our strongest; you have to draw the Honor Knight's attention. Merlin, tie down the Ace Knight with the lance. Everyone else, we're going to use everything we've got to take down the second Ace Knight as quickly as possible."
No one argued. Nora took off, vanishing around a bend in the valley in a blur of speed.
Richie felt his hands trembling slightly—a mix of fear and adrenaline.
"Richie, watch my positioning," Dana's voice sounded in his ear. "Stay directly opposite me. I'm going to open with everything I've got. If they dodge, I'm counting on you."
Richie understood instantly. Dana was betting on their *Dual-line Reflection* tactic.
"Understood!" he replied.
No sooner had the decision been made than the enemy arrived.
As they reached the foot of the slope, the three Knights came to a halt.
The Honor Knight at the front raised his voice. "I am Anderson, Commander of the Sky Hawk Squad, Third Legion of the Varedin Empire. I offer you a single chance to surrender. Do so now, and I guarantee your safety. Throw this chance away, and you will regret it."
Richie watched the man in silence. This kind of pre-battle declaration was an old tradition, one most modern Knights considered obsolete and ignored.
Anderson was either incredibly devious or a man out of time.
Recalling their first encounter on the road from Morena, Richie suspected the latter.
Unfortunately, the man was an enemy. Richie tightened his grip on his Mirror Shield.
"Mr. Anderson," Calli's voice rang out, carrying across the distance. "If you have the strength, by all means, show us."
A booming laugh echoed back.
"Hahaha! A woman? I rarely cross blades with women."
His laughter died abruptly. "But I will not stay my hand. My offer stands: surrender now, while you still can."
Calli didn't bother with a verbal response. She simply raised her sword and pointed it toward him—another ancient gesture, one signifying a fight to the death.
In an instant, the three enemy Knights transformed into streaks of red, purple, and black, charging up the slope.
The Honor Knight moved like a wildfire, a gale made manifest. While still mid-air, his attack was already upon them—a bolt of golden light that lanced toward their line.
Squad 105 had already shifted their formation. Lina was at the front, her Greatsword swinging in a powerful thrust. An invisible shockwave rippled from her blade, distorting the air before her.
Anderson's strike was not only fast but unpredictable, twisting like a living serpent. To anyone else, it would have been impossible to track, but Lina's *Battle Wave* saturated a forty-five-degree arc in front of her, forcing the strike to meet her head-on.
To everyone's surprise, their Auras seemed evenly matched. Lina practiced a top-tier Art, and her recent sessions with Richie had not only increased her power but also refined its quality. Anderson, while vastly more experienced and higher-ranked, wasn't a Knight who specialized in raw, crushing Aura.
The first exchange was a draw.
As Lina engaged the Honor Knight, Merlin tangled with her own opponent—an Ace Knight in purple, heavy-plated armor. He wielded a massive heavy lance, yet despite his bulk, his movements were surprisingly fluid.
Merlin had positioned herself expertly at the edge of the slope. Her opponent was forced to stand on the incline. Though he had a solid stance, he couldn't exert his full power from such an awkward angle. It was a significant disadvantage.
The final Knight was clad in black. His armor was similar to Richie's, with a series of abdominal plates that looked like a serpent's belly. He used a pair of chain-swords—a unique weapon that could be used for both short-range strikes and long-range lashes. It was a versatile weapon, similar in concept to Merlin's Briar Shields.
Richie, with a Defender's instinct, knew this man wasn't a dedicated Light Defender. He was capable of defense, but it wasn't his specialty.
As the battle joined, the black-armored Ace Knight immediately felt the pressure. The three sisters were the first to strike, with the eldest, Ailie, opening with her *Hellish Stragulation*.
On flat ground, an Ace Knight would have had little trouble breaking the move. But like his comrade, he was struggling with the terrain. He lacked the footing to counter and was forced into a fighting retreat.
The sisters moved as one. As Ailie engaged him, the other two flanked him, cutting off his escape and forcing him into a direct clash of Aura.
Dana, meanwhile, was holding her heavy lance, gathering her Aura for a single, lethal strike. She was waiting for the perfect moment—and for Richie to get into position.
Following their plan, Richie had slid down the slope under the cover of the chaos. His distance from the main fray kept him off the enemy's radar.
The moment he reached the black Knight's rear, a bolt of lightning lanced toward the enemy's flank.
Lightning was the fastest thing on the battlefield, yet the Ace Knight still managed to twist his body, the strike narrowly missing him.
But Richie was ready. He tilted his Mirror Shield, catching the lightning and reflecting it right back at the Knight's exposed side.
The man didn't see it coming. Even if he had, there would have been no time to react.
A brilliant discharge of electricity slammed into his waist.
Richie hadn't been able to reflect the full power of Dana's strike, and the energy had dispersed slightly, but it was still a devastating blow. The waist armor was always a weak point, and the strike shattered the plates, letting the electricity surge into the internal systems.
The black Knight went rigid, paralyzed by the shock.
At that moment, a speck of cold starlight appeared a meter away from him. It was a sword—a short, emerald blade no more than a foot long.
The *Zero-Sky Sword*. It was small, but its speed was incredible and its edge lethal.
With a sharp *ting*, the short blade pierced through the Ace Knight's helmet.
The helmet and visor of a Magitech Armor were largely hollow. The Knight's head was actually located lower, protected by the heavy breastplate. A strike to the helmet wasn't usually fatal, but it destroyed the suit's sensors.
In an instant, the black Knight was rendered blind and deaf.
He knew he was in mortal danger. He didn't even try to turn around; instead, he pushed off the slope, leaping backward into the air.
He didn't know Richie was waiting for him.
Richie's Mirror Shield could be used like a hand-axe, and he finally had his chance to prove it. He drove the sharp edge of the shield into the base of the black suit's spine.
The tailbone area was a critical weakness. It was where the upper and lower halves of the suit met, and where the pilot sat.
A heavy *clang* rang out as the shield bit into the armor.
It wasn't a specialized strike, just a raw physical blow, and the black armor—clearly a masterwork—held firm.
But the impact was enough. The suit's left leg lost most of its function, and the pilot lost his balance. The black Knight tumbled through the air, spinning out of control.
Another bolt of lightning flashed. Dana had struck.
In terms of raw destructive power, this was the squad's ultimate weapon. Not even Lina's *Battle Wave* could compare.
The lightning slammed into the damaged tailbone area.
The difference between a specialized strike and Richie's raw blow was night and day. The armor shattered on contact.
The electricity didn't just pierce the suit; it exploded inside.
Arcs of lightning danced across the black armor's surface for a frantic second before the entire suit burst apart from the internal pressure. The pilot never stood a chance.
In the blink of an eye, the three-man squad had lost a member. It was a result no one had expected, and it drove the remaining two into a frenzy.
Two roars of fury echoed across the slope. Anderson and the purple Knight unleashed their full power.
The purple Knight drove his lance into the ground, and the entire slope began to heave and shake.
Anderson was even more terrifying. In a blur of motion, he sent Lina flying. She tumbled down the slope, her body a ragdoll.
Before anyone could react, the Honor Knight became a streak of red light, tearing into their formation.
Dana was his first target. He had correctly identified her as the one who had dealt the killing blow to his comrade.
Two flashes of light met—one golden, one electric. Their weapons were similar, their styles comparable, but the gap in power was staggering.
Anderson simply flicked his twin-headed lance, redirecting the lightning bolt with effortless ease. Dana, however, could do nothing to stop his counter. She couldn't even evade.
Only the timely intervention of the three sisters saved her life. They threw themselves forward, their combined shields blunting the golden flash.
Even so, Dana's armor was pierced. Blood began to seep from the wound.
Suddenly, the entire slope collapsed. The purple Knight's earlier strike had been aimed at the rain-soaked earth.
The two weeks of constant downpour had turned the ground into a trap.
The soil liquefied, sliding down the ridge in a massive landslide.
Most of Squad 105 was caught in the collapse, swept away before they could react.
Only two people were prepared: Merlin and Robin. Robin was now wielding the same emerald short sword that had blinded the black Knight.
"The Zero-Sky Sword? Impossible."
Anderson stared at the short blade in Robin's hand. His earlier composure was gone, replaced by a deep-seated wariness. He knew what that blade represented.
But he didn't stop.
He became a red blur, charging toward the three sisters.
On the other side of the fray, Merlin was desperately tying down the purple Knight. She was in a dire state; one of her armor's "wings" was snapped, and both of her swords were broken. She was fighting with only her Briar Shields.
Defense was her specialty, but the gap between her and an Ace Knight was simply too large.
Suddenly, Merlin felt an invisible pressure closing in from all sides.
She unleashed her *Hurricane Briar Array*, her two shields spinning with frantic speed to form a protective barrier.
The invisible force slammed into the array. The sounds of metal grinding against metal filled the air as sparks showered from the shields.
Merlin held the line, but she was coughing up blood inside her suit. A Light Defender relied on technique, and she was facing a heavy-hitting opponent who fought with the weight of a mountain.
She could have fled, but she didn't dare take a single step back. She knew that if these two Knights joined forces, the rest of her squad wouldn't survive the minute.
Everyone's eyes were fixed on Anderson.
Who would he kill next?
Against a man of his caliber, every member of Squad 105 felt a crushing sense of helplessness.
To everyone's surprise, the red reaper turned toward Richie.
Every hair on Richie's body stood on end as he watched the golden flash lancing toward him.
Just before it reached him, the light twisted, bypassing his Mirror Shield and diving through the gap between his arm and his elbow guard.
The strike was like a living thing. There was no time to block.
Richie's only thought was a simple, primal one: *I don't want to die.*
A heavy *thud* echoed as the red light slammed into his chest. Richie felt as if he'd been hit by a charging elephant. He was thrown backward, hurtling through the air.
He slammed into the ground several meters away.
The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth, but his mind was flooded with a different sensation: confusion.
*I'm alive?*
He had seen Anderson kill before. The man's strikes usually left nothing but a gaping hole in his victims.
If he were still wearing his old heavy-plated armor, maybe he could understand it. But he was in a light-weight Defender suit now.
Richie lay on the ground, playing dead, while he frantically pulled up the recordings from his suit's sensors.
The footage was a blur, but after several playbacks, he saw it: a faint, earthy-yellow glow had flickered beneath the red light for a fraction of a second.
His Aura. The color of the earth.
He began to understand.
His body hadn't been fast enough to block, but his instinct had been. He must have unconsciously concentrated his Aura at the point of impact. His Aura's innate properties of redirection and reflection had saved his life.
Now he faced a choice: continue playing dead, or stand up and face the monster?
If he fought, he'd likely die alongside the rest of the squad.
As he hesitated, a familiar cry of pain reached his ears.
Richie jumped to his feet, any thought of feigning death forgotten. Every person in this squad was too important to him to lose.
Merlin was in the worst state. Her breastplate was covered in fine cracks, and her suit's left arm was mangled. Both her sword and her shields were gone.
Richie sprinted toward her, tactics abandoned for raw desperation.
Before he could reach her, another golden flash streaked toward him.
This strike was far more intense than the first.
Anderson was focused on him now. He realized he had failed to kill the boy and was now striking with his full power.
By focusing on Richie, however, Anderson left himself open. A flash of emerald light appeared—the *Zero-Sky Sword*—accompanied by a searing, fiery blade of energy.
If it had been just the fire, Anderson would have parried it. but the short sword made him hesitate. He was forced to evade.
But the moment the sword was thrown, his fear vanished. A weapon out of hand was no longer a threat.
He became a red blur, his twin-headed lance sweeping toward Robin.
He didn't strike to kill this time. He swung the lance horizontally, a massive, blunt-force blow.
Robin was thrown dozens of meters, her abdominal armor and skirt crushed. The impact sent her internal organs into a state of shock, and she coughed up a spray of blood.
Having neutralized the biggest threat, the Honor Knight turned back toward the others, but his eyes widened in surprise.
Richie was unhurt and already engaging the purple Knight.
The purple Knight was struggling; one of his arms was useless, and he was being double-teamed.
Anderson didn't know that the fiery strike he'd dodged had been caught and reflected by Richie. Richie had used a "capture and release" technique to ensure a perfect redirection.
He hadn't dared to strike at Anderson, so he had aimed the energy at the purple Knight instead.
The strike had been perfectly timed.
An Ace Knight could usually sense the gathering of Aura, making a sneak attack nearly impossible. but Richie's technique required no gathering time.
The heavy-armored Knight lacked the agility to dodge and took the hit squarely.
With the purple Knight's arm disabled, Richie pressed the advantage, closing the distance to negate the man's long-range weapon.
He had one more trick up his sleeve. While he was on the ground, he had scooped up a handful of mud. As the purple Knight turned to face him, Richie flung the sludge into his visor.
The half-bucket of mud covered the Knight's entire head, rendering him blind.
Richie dived in for the finish.
Just then, the shrill blast of a military bugle sounded in the distance. Reinforcements.
Relief flooded Richie, but it was immediately replaced by terror as Anderson turned his full attention back to him.
Desperate, Richie shouted at the top of his lungs, "Hey! Remember me? We've met before!"
Anderson paused, his twin-headed lance slowing. He realized the voice belonged to a boy.
Richie took a shallow breath. He had bet correctly; this man still held to the old Knightly codes. He didn't kill women and children if he could help it.
"We met on the road from Morena. You and that Ace Knight with the saber killed seven of our men. I was hiding in the bushes."
Richie was stalling for every second he could get.
"You?"
The Honor Knight hesitated. Then, his lance swept forward. It was the same move he'd used on Robin—a blow meant to injure, not to kill.
The moment it struck, a shroud of yellow light erupted around Richie, and he began to spin like a top.
The blow was heavy, but Richie's unorthodox move blunted the force.
He was sent flying again, but the injury wasn't fatal. He used the momentum to roll into the dense forest.
Anderson stood frozen for a moment, clearly frustrated by the outcome.
The battle had been a mess. He listened to the approaching footsteps of the Republic reinforcements and looked at his only surviving comrade. Two of his three squadmates were dead—men he had bled with. He couldn't afford to lose a third.
"Retreat," Anderson commanded, the word bitter in his mouth.
He looked around for a trophy. Everyone else was gathered in a tight, defensive knot. They were wounded, yes, but breaking them would take more time than he had.
Merlin had disappeared into the trees after Richie.
His only option was Lina, the first one he'd struck down. He walked over and pried open her front armor plate. He had sensed she was a woman.
He scooped the unconscious Lina into his arms, grabbed his injured comrade, and vanished into the rain.
***
The battle was over, but Squad 105 was a wreck.
Dana was in the worst state; her survival was a matter of luck. Merlin and Robin both had severe internal injuries and would be out for months. The three sisters were also devastated; Ailie was critically wounded, and without their "Trinity" formation, the other two were at a fraction of their strength. Rosa and Margaret had escaped with relatively minor internal injuries, but for Rosa, it was an aggravation of an old wound.
In the end, only Calli, Nora, and Richie were still standing, along with Randy, the medic.
In truth, even Calli and Richie were injured, just less so than the others. Only Nora, who had gone for help, was truly unscathed.
Back at the camp, Calli left immediately, not returning until late that night. When she did, she radiated a cold, focused fury.
Aside from Richie, only Nora and Randy were left in the main area. Nora didn't speak, so Randy was the only one who could offer any explanation.
Randy brought a tray of food to Calli's room.
"I've already eaten," Calli said coldly. She hadn't eaten a bite, but she had no appetite.
"What did High Command say?" Randy asked. "Are they unwilling to do a prisoner exchange? Should we send word to Lina's family? Their influence could clear any obstacles."
Randy was the only one besides the captain who knew the backgrounds of everyone in the squad.
"There's no time," Calli replied, her eyes narrowing. "Once they realize who Lina is, an exchange will become much more difficult. And the bureaucrats at the top don't care; they just want to play politics."
Her expression shifted, a sudden, sharp determination taking hold.
Randy knew that look. "You're going after her?"
She shook her head. "It's too dangerous. You'll end up captured yourself."
"I have to. We can't bet on an exchange, and we can't hope they'll be 'gentlemanly' with a female prisoner. You know what happened to the last batch of captives they returned. They were broken."
What she didn't say was that every female Knight returned in that exchange had been driven insane.
Having made her decision, Calli stood up. She wasn't going to waste another second.
As she opened the door, she found Nora standing there. Richie was a few meters behind her.
"One person... not enough," Nora said. It was the most she'd spoken in weeks, her words as concise as ever.
Richie didn't know what to say, but he knew he was going. Lina was his woman. A man rescuing his woman was the most natural thing in the world.
***
The three of them moved through the rain-soaked forest with agonizing care. For concealment, they wore camouflage nets woven with branches and leaves. Standing still, they were invisible from even a few meters away.
Richie cursed the rain. He hated the forest in this weather; the ground was a patchwork of hidden puddles that looked exactly like solid earth until you stepped into them. And then there were the roots, slick and treacherous under the rain.
He followed at the rear.
He found himself admiring Nora. The silent woman could read the path taken by the two Knights from nothing but a few fallen leaves, a broken twig, or the shape of a puddle.
After three hours of trekking, the light of an enemy camp appeared in the distance.
The fires flickered uncertainly through the rain.
Despite the goal being in sight, Nora didn't rush. A forward camp like this would certainly have scouts of its own.
Infiltration was impossible, but they had a plan.
They waited in the mud for over an hour until they saw movement.
Squads of soldiers were emerging from the camp for a guard shift. The nearby outposts were swapped out quickly, and the weary soldiers began to trudge back.
Nora listened with rapt attention. "The password is..."
She spoke a long string of words to Calli.
Richie didn't understand a syllable. It was Varedin, a language he'd never studied.
With the password in hand, they stripped off their camouflage nets. Beneath, they were wearing stolen Varedin uniforms.
Randy had provided the gear. As the logistics officer, she had access to captured supplies, including uniforms of all sizes.
They checked each other one last time for any flaws before burying the nets in the mud.
Then, they stepped onto the main road, walking with bold strides.
The password worked perfectly. The scout guarding the entrance was focused on the horizon and didn't spare a second glance at the three soldiers walking into camp.
Once inside, Richie's nerves reached a breaking point. They were surrounded by enemies. If they were caught, there was no escape.
But there was no turning back. He followed Calli and Nora deeper into the camp.
Calli had taken the lead initially to handle the passwords, but now Nora took over, her eyes and ears searching for their target.
In the center of the camp was a restricted area with larger, more ornate tents.
Inside one of these tents, Lina sat on a chair, her arms draped over the backrest as she rested her chin on them.
A Knight in his thirties paced the room. He had unruly blonde hair and a handsome, rugged face. His blue eyes were bright and intelligent.
He held a glass of dark red wine, the aroma of the vintage filling the air as he swirled it.
It was Anderson, the Honor Knight.
"Your squad is full of surprises," Anderson said with a pleasant smile. "A scion of the *Zero-Sky Sword*, and a descendant of the *Holy Emperor's Bloodline*."
Lina held a glass of her own. As a captive, her treatment had been surprisingly decent.
She took a sip, not worried about poison. She knew Anderson was one of the few who still cared for the old codes.
"The Holy Emperor's Bloodline is a thousand years old. It's just history now," Lina said dismissively.
Anderson clearly disagreed. He was a traditionalist, a man who wished he lived a millennium ago—the Golden Age of the Knights.
He was genuinely jealous of Lina. He envied the power of her bloodline.
Men like him could work their entire lives and never reach the pinnacle of power. In history, nine out of ten who reached the ultimate stage were scions of the legendary bloodlines.
The *Holy Emperor's Bloodline* was one of the few—the strongest bloodline for both Knights and Psions.
"You're close to a breakthrough, aren't you?" Anderson asked with a faint, bitter smile. "At your age, I hadn't even dreamed of the Ace title."
He looked young, but he was actually in his forties. A Knight's metabolism slowed as they reached the Honor rank, granting them a youthful appearance.
He was talented and hardworking, yet he hadn't reached the Ace rank until twenty-eight. It took another nine years to reach the Honor rank.
Compared to Lina, he felt like a failure.
Lina suppressed a smile. She knew that without Richie, Randy, and their Dual Training, she wouldn't have reached the Ace rank until her late twenties either.
She also knew her bloodline hadn't done much for her yet. Her strength came from her superior Art.
Robin was proof that bloodlines were no guarantee; his lineage was as prestigious as hers, yet his raw power was among the lowest in the squad. He relied on his deadly techniques to stay relevant.
"Tell me... that boy who took three of my hits. Whose bloodline does he carry?" Anderson asked. He had been obsessed with the question. He knew everything there was to know about Knightly lore, yet he couldn't place Richie's Aura.
Aura that could protect an entire suit and make it impenetrable usually belonged to heavy-armored Defenders, and it always came at the cost of speed.
He also didn't know of any defensive technique that could reflect an attack.
If Richie were thirty or forty, Anderson might have guessed he'd developed the techniques himself. but for a teenager? He couldn't believe it.
Lina was tempted to make up a story, but she knew this man probably knew every major lineage by heart. Lying would be useless.
As she was thinking of a response, Anderson let out a soft chuckle. "How delightful. We have guests."
He set his glass down. In a blur of motion, he vanished from the tent.
A hundred meters away, Calli's expression turned to one of shock. She had no idea how she'd been detected.
"Only you?" Anderson asked, standing before her. Though it was raining, not a drop touched him; the water simply slid off an invisible barrier an inch from his skin.
Before Calli could answer, Anderson turned his gaze toward another direction. "I thought not. There's at least one more."
He watched for a moment before smiling. "Hiding so far away... a scout, I presume."
He struck at Calli with a palm. The move seemed slow, but Calli felt as if every path of escape had been sealed.
With Calli neutralized, the Honor Knight sprinted toward his next target.
He had detected them because he could sense their gaze.
Few knew that he was on the verge of a higher level of existence. Like Lina, he was at a bottleneck.
A Knight of Honor possessed a "Field"—an area where nothing could escape their perception. but at the next stage, the Field became something more. He could feel when someone was focusing their attention on him.
His mastery of this new ability wasn't perfect yet.
He had detected Calli, but he hadn't detected Nora—at least not initially.
Nora was watching the tent, but she wasn't using her eyes. She was using her ears, listening to the muffled sounds from within. She had correctly identified Lina's voice.
She had told Calli where Lina was.
Calli was the rescue, Nora the lookout.
But the moment Calli looked at the tent, Anderson felt it.
Having captured Calli, he felt another gaze. This time, it was Nora who was exposed.
But he didn't know there was a third.
Richie was two kilometers away, guarding their retreat on a main supply road. The road was a vital artery for the enemy, guarded by outposts every two hundred meters.
Yet, because of the heavy traffic, it was the easiest place to slip through. At its busiest, wagons moved in a continuous line; even at its quietest, one passed every few minutes.
Richie waited, his anxiety growing as the minutes ticked by with no word. He began to move toward Nora's position.
When he arrived, she was gone.
A cold sense of dread settled in his gut.
He didn't head straight for the tent. Instead, he took a wide detour.
As he neared the ornate tents, he saw a ring of soldiers standing guard. Their raincoats didn't quite hide their uniforms—a striking, brilliant white.
Richie's heart sank. White uniforms meant Military Police or Special Forces.
He was certain that either Calli or Nora had been caught.