Chapter 20 — The Clan in the Fog
They'd barely made it half a mile before the fog shifted again. This time, it wasn't creeping. It was closing.
Kael stopped, sword loose in his hand. "They're not hunting me one at a time anymore."
The noble spun in a slow circle, eyes wide. "What do you mean they?"
Figures emerged in the distance, their movements eerily uniform. One by one, masked hunters stepped into view — not two, not three… a dozen. Their masks varied: jagged smiles, long-nosed grins, and hollow-eyed frowns. All carried weapons of bone or rusted iron, dripping with the same hissing poison.
—Careful, Side murmured. Their formation isn't random. They're cutting off your exits.
Kael's gaze swept the group. "Then we make one."
The hunters began to circle, their feet making no sound against the wet earth. The air seemed to thicken, each breath heavier than the last. A low, rhythmic hum rose from them — a chant in a language that prickled the back of Kael's neck.
The noble's voice cracked. "What do they want?"
Kael's eyes stayed on the largest mask — a tall figure with a crown of twisted reeds and a spear twice as long as the others. "Me."
The crowned hunter stepped forward, planting his spear in the mud. He pointed at Kael… then to the ground. A challenge.
—One-on-one? Side asked.
"Looks like it." Kael smirked. "But we'll see if they stick to the rules."
He stepped forward. The crown-bearer moved with unsettling grace, circling just enough to test Kael's patience. Kael didn't wait — his blade blurred, aiming for the leg. The spear intercepted with a sharp crack, sending vibrations through his arm.
The duel began.
The spear darted like lightning, forcing Kael to shift between offense and defense in fluid bursts. He used the marsh's shallows to anchor sudden sidesteps, spatial rifts opening just wide enough to disrupt the hunter's rhythm.
Then — a flicker of movement. Another hunter crept from the flank, breaking the supposed duel.
Kael's shadow surged upward, catching the intruder's ankle and dragging them under. The others hesitated, the chant faltering.
"Guess they don't like playing fair either," Kael muttered.
With a burst of speed, he closed the distance on the crown-bearer, blade carving across its side. The mask cracked. A muffled snarl came from beneath.
The hunter stumbled, and Kael didn't waste the opening — a spatial fold brought him behind the target, and his sword struck true. The body collapsed into the mud.
The others froze. One by one, they backed away into the mist, their masks vanishing like phantoms.
Kael waited until the fog thinned, then pulled the crown-bearer's mask from the corpse before letting it sink into his shadow.
The noble's voice shook. "You're going to keep that too?"
Kael studied the mask. "It's not a trophy. It's a warning."
Side chuckled darkly. For them or for you?
"Both."
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