[You are in a hostile environment]
The message popped off in front of Ludwig, confirming his suspicions. It hung there for a heartbeat like frost along glass, then faded, leaving a cold taste on the back of his tongue. Without wasting a second, Ludwig walked out from between the trees, Durandal drawn. The blade cleared his shoulder with a quiet, decisive whisper, the kind of sound that suggested a room had grown smaller without the walls moving. Leaf-shadow slid over the flat of the weapon in tattered strips; the forest air pressed closer, testing the edge as if it were another living thing entering its law.
