Adam’s heart pounded as he saw Bryan, Elan, and Samuel suspended in midair. Their bodies hung motionless, faces pale and drawn as if stripped of all color by the lack of oxygen.

The three of them floated silently against the darkening sky, their expressions a mixture of shock and pain.

Every second that passed without action made it clear to Adam that he had only a brief moment to act before the situation worsened. In that tense moment, time seemed to slow as he weighed his options.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Adam’s right hand shot forward, fingers spread wide as if reaching out to command the very air around him.

His eyes were focused and clear, his mind calm despite the urgent danger. In a voice that was both calm and firm—a voice that betrayed no hint of panic—he spoke a single word in English, the word resonating with power:

"Swap."

The word hung in the air like a spark in the dark. In an instant, the three floating figures vanished from sight.

It was as if they had been erased from the space where they had hovered just moments before.

A blink later, almost too quickly for the eye to follow, Bryan, Elan, and Samuel reappeared right next to Adam and Sophia. They collapsed onto the ground as if the sudden disappearance had taken every ounce of strength from them.

In that instant, the three men gasped violently, their bodies convulsing as they sucked in deep, ragged breaths.

Their hands flew instinctively to their throats, as if trying to dislodge an invisible force that had gripped them.

Their chests heaved rapidly, rising and falling with the effort of drawing in fresh air. Bryan, usually so proud and stern, was now hunched over on the ground, both hands pressed against the earth as he coughed harshly.

Next to him, Elan clutched his chest, his face still a deep shade of red from the ordeal, while Samuel lay flat on his back, eyes wide with shock as he struggled to take in steady, desperate gulps of air.

The invisible force that had been strangling them moments before was completely gone, leaving behind only the heavy silence of a near-fatal danger narrowly avoided.

Adam’s eyes, still sharp and alert, flickered upward. He followed their gaze to the wooden balcony of a two-story house that overlooked the clearing.

There, standing with a disconcerting calm, was Brand. The man on the balcony watched the scene unfold with an unsettling stillness. At first, Brand remained motionless, his face unreadable in the Sun light.

Then, slowly, a creepy smile began to stretch across his face—a smile that was at odds with the silence and gravity of the moment.

His eyes locked onto Adam’s with a mixture of amusement and dark curiosity as he spoke in a low, almost amused tone:

"So... you're a magician. And an illegal one, at that."

The words drifted down from the balcony like a challenge, their tone mocking and laced with scorn.

Adam’s mind raced as he took in Brand’s words, wondering how much the man truly understood of the powers that Adam wielded. But there was no time to dwell on that now.

Before Bryan could utter a word in reply or offer any explanation, more figures began to emerge from the nearby houses. One by one, villagers poured out into the open, their numbers growing quickly.

Adam turned his head slightly to scan the growing crowd. Men and women of all ages emerged—young boys with wide, frightened eyes, elderly men leaning on walking sticks, teenagers with expressions too solemn for their age.

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All of them shared one striking feature: an eerie green glow in their eyes that made them look otherworldly and possessed.

In moments, the villagers had surrounded Adam, Sophia, and the small group from Bryan’s side. They closed in from every direction, forming a tight circle that left no room for escape.

Some of the villagers held wooden staffs in their hands, their knotted fingers gripping them tightly.

Others carried blunt weapons, fashioned from sturdy wood or even old, battered metal, while a few held sharp, rusted blades that caught the day light in a sinister glimmer.

The atmosphere grew heavy with tension, and Adam’s grip on his sword tightened as he prepared himself for the next move.

Then, Brand’s voice rang out again from his perch on the balcony. His tone was taunting and cold as he called down:

"Who will save you now, boy? I thought you were just a traveler. But clearly, you’re something... else."

As Brand spoke, two young men, no older than nineteen, stepped forward from the gathering crowd.

They moved with a boldness that contrasted sharply with the hesitancy of the other villagers.

Both had jet-black hair and wore loose, worn leather clothing—similar to what the other villagers wore, yet their eyes burned with a determination that set them apart. Without a moment’s pause, they leaped forward.

Their wooden staffs were raised high as they aimed directly for Adam’s head, intent on bringing him down before he could react further.

Adam’s reflexes kicked in instantly. As the two attackers descended upon him, he shifted his stance with a smooth, practiced motion and swung his leg in their direction.

At the same time, in a voice barely above a whisper—a voice that blended power with precision—he uttered a single command:

"Air Strike."

The command was barely audible over the sound of the rushing wind, but its effect was immediate and dramatic. A powerful, invisible gust of wind erupted from Adam’s kick.

It roared outwards, slamming into the chests of the two young men with an overwhelming force.

They were thrown backward as if hit by a solid wall of air, their bodies lifted off the ground momentarily before crashing violently into the earth. They rolled several feet away, the impact scattering dust and leaves in all directions.

Adam barely had time to register the full force of the impact before another voice broke through the chaos. From behind him came Bryan’s desperate shout:

"Adam! Wait! Don’t kill them!"

Adam did not turn around, but he could hear the urgency and desperation in Bryan’s voice. It was clear that Bryan was pleading with him, trying to stop him from causing unnecessary harm.

As Adam’s eyes swept over the villagers surrounding them, he noticed the blank expressions on their faces. Their eyes, still glowing that unnatural green, seemed devoid of life and will.

Their movements were stiff and unnatural, as if controlled by a force beyond their own.

The realization struck Adam hard. It all began to make sense now. Bryan’s urgent words continued, his voice trembling with emotion:

"These people are all under the demon’s control! It’s some kind of special magic—something that lets him command them like puppets!"

Adam’s eyes widened as he took in the sight of the villagers. Their vacant stares and the eerie glow in their eyes were the marks of those who had been hypnotized, controlled by an unseen force.

They were not acting of their own free will; they were puppets in the hands of a dark power. Bryan’s voice, now filled with urgency, added, "These are just regular villagers! They’re not the enemy! Please, don’t kill them!"

Adam exhaled sharply through his nose, a frustrated sound that mingled with the quiet crackle of the fire in the distance. The situation was growing ever more complicated.

Not only did he face a threat from a hidden demon, but now he was forced to fight against an army of people he knew were innocent victims.

The weight of the decision pressed on him: he had to protect himself without harming those who were under the demon’s control.

His grip on his sword tightened even further as he muttered under his breath, barely audible over the din of the gathering crowd, "Do you have a way to free them?" His question was directed at Bryan and the others, a plea for a solution that would spare the innocent lives caught in this terrible magic.

For a long, heavy moment, there was silence. The only sound was the faint rustle of leaves in the breeze and the distant murmur of the villagers, their voices hushed as they awaited an answer.

Then, with a hesitant tone that barely carried over the tension, Bryan spoke:

"No… I don’t."

Those simple words sent a spike of frustration through Adam. There was no way to break the demon’s control, no simple method to free the villagers from the dark magic that held them in thrall.

No way to fight back without harming them. The realization that he might have to hold back his true strength against a horde of hypnotized villagers filled him with anger and a sense of helplessness.

He clenched his jaw, quickly suppressing his irritation as he forced himself to search for a solution—fast.

Adam’s gaze swept over the dozens of villagers slowly advancing toward him. Their weapons were raised, their steps unsteady but determined as they moved as one toward him.

Their eerie green eyes locked onto his, and in that moment, Adam felt the full weight of the situation.

He was facing not just a group of armed villagers, but a mass of people whose wills had been stripped away by the demon’s power.

And then—