The night was thick with an impenetrable darkness, only occasionally pierced by faint glimmers of moonlight filtering through the dense canopy. Linus and the two spies moved swiftly through the forest, their forms melding with the shadows as they put as much distance as possible between themselves and the collapsing mine. The two spies pushed forward, their hurried footsteps muffled but betraying their growing desperation. Though Linus wove his shadow magic around them, masking their trail and movement, they could still feel him—silent, watchful, too close.

The first spy glanced back over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the gloom. Behind them, he saw a vague figure moving like a wraith.

“Where is he?” the second spy hissed, his voice a ragged whisper.

“Behind us,” the first replied, dread threading through his words. “Always behind us.”

The spies hadn’t stopped moving, but their rhythm faltered as unease gnawed at their nerves. Sweat trickled down their temples, catching the pale flickers of moonlight, and their hands hovered near their weapons.

Then Linus halted.

Neither of the spies saw him stop—only that the shadows around them seemed to thicken, the darkness pooling unnaturally at their feet. It was like stepping into a tar pit that stretched forever. The first spy’s boots caught on an unseen root, nearly sending him sprawling, but it wasn’t the ground that had shifted—it was the shadows.

Without warning, the shadows stirred. Tendrils of darkness slithered out of the void, curling with unnatural precision as they lunged for the first spy.

“Watch out!” the second spy barked, but the warning was barely needed.

The first spy was already in motion. His hand darted to his dagger, and with a strike, flames erupted along its length. The tendrils recoiled as the fiery blade met them, the heat turning their insidious forms to curling wisps of smoke that faded into nothing.

The second spy, more cautious, swung his mace in a wide arc, unleashing a gust of wind that pushed the encroaching shadows back, momentarily disrupting Linus’s control.

Sensing their fear, Linus's lips curled into a cold smile.

Before they could react, Linus dissolved into the shadows—a flicker, a whisper, nothing more. He reappeared at their backs like a phantom, the faintest shimmer of his presence betraying him just before he struck.

“Move!” the first spy barked, whirling to drive his blazing dagger into Linus.

The blade cut through empty air. Linus vanished again, his form melting into the darkness, the edges of his figure scattering like black mist. He reemerged just beyond their reach, his expression a cold, detached smile.

With a snap of his fingers, the forest rippled. From the shadows, figures emerged—vague, indistinct shapes with glowing voids where their eyes should have been. Shadow clones.

The spies backed into each other, the first spy’s flames flaring brighter, the second spy’s mace humming with wind energy.

“They’re everywhere,” the second spy muttered, his voice low and tight.

The clones advanced, gliding soundlessly across the forest floor. They moved, forming and reforming with every step, their shapes distorting in ways the eye couldn’t quite follow.

“Stay close,” the first spy growled, flames licking the air as he swung his blade, cutting through the nearest clone. It evaporated with a hiss, smoke curling through the firelight, but more came, closing in like predators circling a wounded beast.

The second spy gritted his teeth. He planted his mace into the ground, the metal vibrating with force as a wall of wind erupted outward. Leaves whipped through the air, and the clones staggered, their forms flickering under the onslaught. The first spy stepped forward, flames coiling around his dagger. His strikes were precise and deadly as he cut through the weakened clones one by one. Their movements were synchronized, honed by years of survival.

Linus observed from the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. His patience paid off when he noticed a slight hesitation in their movements, their coordination faltering under the relentless onslaught of his clones.

It was time.

He spread his hands, and the darkness shuddered. A low, guttural sound rolled through the forest as a beast began to take shape—a monstrous form rising from the ground, sculpted from shadow. Eyes like twin voids burned down at the spies, and when it roared, the sound split the night like a storm’s fury.

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The first spy swore under his breath. “Together!”

The second spy didn’t hesitate. They poured their remaining energy into a single spell, magic surging like fire in their veins. A vortex of flame and wind erupted between them, the forces merging into a roaring tornado. The inferno twisted and howled, tearing forward like a living force, incinerating everything in its path.

The shadow beast lunged to meet it.

The collision was cataclysmic. Light and shadow slammed together in a violent explosion, and the shockwave shook the earth, splintered trees, and sent debris hurtling in every direction. The forest groaned and buckled under the force of the collision, and the swirling inferno locked in a deadly struggle with the monstrous beast.

Linus used the chaos as his moment to strike.

With a flick of his wrist, shadow tendrils shot forward faster than an arrow. The first spy felt them coil around his arms and legs before he could react. He struggled, flames surging along his blade as he slashed at the tendrils, but they only tightened, their grip suffocating his power.

“No!” he shouted, his voice raw and desperate.

Linus stepped from the shadows, his face calm, unbothered by the destruction around him. He tilted his head slightly, watching the first spy’s resistance fade beneath the unrelenting force of the shadows. Then, with a single, swift motion, Linus ended it.

The fire on the spy’s blade flickered and died.

The second spy, witnessing the fall of his comrade, knew he was outmatched. Summoning the last of his strength, he unleashed a powerful gust of wind, pushing Linus back just enough to buy him a moment.

With trembling hands, he reached for the Amulet of Clear Sight, a relic he had saved for a desperate moment that hung beneath his tunic. He tore it free, whispering the activation word through clenched teeth. The amulet flared to life, shimmering light bursting around him, enveloping his form in a blinding glow.

Linus lunged, shadows clawing forward to stop him—but it was too late.

Linus snarled in frustration but quickly regained his composure. With a flick of his wrist, his shadow clones scattered into the dark, their spectral forms darting between the trees. They moved without sound, spreading outward to search for the fleeing spy, their silhouettes blending seamlessly into the black.

The quiet stretched, broken only by the slow, deliberate crunch of Linus’s boots as he turned. He cast a glance at the fallen spy sprawled lifeless on the forest floor, his limp form barely illuminated by the fractured shafts of moonlight.

Linus knelt beside the body and began searching the spy’s belongings. Leather. Metal. Nothing of value. And then his fingers froze.

Something cold and metallic brushed his skin.

Linus’s expression sharpened as he reached deeper, pulling the object free—a small amulet. Its silver surface was etched with ancient runes that seemed to shimmer faintly in the moonlight as though alive. It was the Veilstone Charm.

Linus’s breath caught in his throat, his pupils shrinking as he raised it. Moonlight shimmered on its surface, the runes faintly glowing, their light sensed more than sighted.

Linus immediately recognized it. This wasn't just a trinket but a rare artifact. The Veilstone Charm was a powerful tool, one half of a pair, like a key to a lock. It could hide things in plain sight. Hidden objects could be revealed with the charm, but only if paired with its counterpart spatial box.

Linus’s lips curled into a smirk, though his eyes remained dark, calculating.

As he continued rifling through the spy's belongings, he came across more items that piqued his interest. A forged letter was sealed with the insignia of the Sorenputhra Kingdom, its edges slightly worn from travel. Linus quickly pocketed it, knowing it could provide further insight into the plot they had been orchestrating. A small pouch of Sorenputhra coins clinked lightly in his hand before it disappeared into his coat.

Finally, his fingers closed around a small vial. He carefully lifted it, turning it toward the light. A pale, viscous liquid sloshed inside, glimmering ominously. It was the same liquid they had used to trigger the cave-in.

Linus stood, the Veilstone Charm heavy in his hand, before he slipped the chain over his neck. Its weight rested against his chest, a cold, persistent reminder of its power. His thoughts turned inward, dark and hungry, racing toward the possibilities now within his grasp. Somewhere out there, its counterpart waited—an unseen door yearning for its key. And beyond that door? Perhaps even the Phoenix Blade.

The thought quickened his pulse. Linus allowed himself to savor it before the silence reminded him of unfinished work.

He turned back to the spy’s body, now stiffening with death. Linus wouldn’t leave a trace. Not here. Not now. He spread his hands, the shadows coiling around him like a living tide.

“Rest now,” he muttered with the ghost of a smirk. “You’ve served your purpose.”

The body lifted from the ground, enveloped in an unnatural darkness that seemed to eat away at its edges as if it might vanish entirely. Linus strode deeper into the forest, the lifeless form gliding silently behind him, weightless and invisible to all but him.

The journey was silent. The forest, still holding its breath, seemed to part for him, the trees looming like sentinels as the body trailed in his wake. At last, Linus found a secluded spot—an undisturbed hollow where the ground was soft, loose, and dark.

Kneeling, he pressed his hands into the dirt. His shadow magic bled into the earth, making it malleable and pliant. The soil shivered and then fell away, creating a grave deep enough to hide all traces of betrayal.

Linus lowered the body, his expression impassive, as though discarding a broken tool. Shadows stirred again, folding over the corpse like a shroud as Linus summoned the earth to cover it again. Soil shifted, leaves scattered, branches fell, and the forest floor was pristine within moments—a quiet, untouched graveyard.

Linus stepped back, his gaze cold as he surveyed his work. Nothing remained. Nothing to find.

Shadows gathered around him as he moved toward the mine. The faint, faraway lights of the town blinked into view between the trees. Linus paused at the edge of the woods, thinking about Mara and her team.

Had they escaped the cave-in? Had they survived?

A flicker of curiosity burned in him, faint but undeniable. It didn’t matter—not yet—but Linus found himself almost eager to see the results of their struggle.

With a final glance at the lights, Linus melted into the darkness, his shadow magic stretching wide to swallow him whole. With the Veilstone Charm in hand, he was more determined than ever to uncover the hidden paths that would lead him to power—no matter the cost.