The blood mist mana rising from their bodies glimmered faintly under the moonlight, like thin veils of red fog reflecting silver light.
To the untrained eye, it looked beautiful, almost ceremonial, as if the Moonshade camp itself was blessing its warriors. But Cain stared at it with growing dread, his pupils narrowing as his senses peeled back layer after layer of what was really happening.
No. No no no. Shit! Shit! Shit! This is bad. This is bad. Really really bad!
On the side where William's troopers stood, especially among the newer recruits, the blood mist was thicker. Denser. It clung to their skin longer, swirling with an unhealthy eagerness. It was subtle, so subtle that even veteran Blood Knights would miss it unless they knew exactly what to look for.
Cain knew.
Damn it.
Those idiots. Those absolute idiots.
