The first bandit died without knowing why he stopped breathing.

  Shadow wrapped his throat.

  Blood Ni tightened.

  A dagger slid home.

  No sound.

  Kaelen eased the body down into the dirt, already moving before the corpse finished collapsing. His heartbeat slowed deliberately as blood Ni tightened around his veins, suppressing excess motion, suppressing noise.

  Lightning flickered beneath his skin.

  Not outward.

  Contained.

  Every nerve sharpened.

  Every movement precise.

  He slipped between the outer sentries like a rumor moving through fog.

  Another guard turned just in time to see a shadow detach from the darkness behind him.

  Kaelen’s hand covered the man’s mouth.

  The dagger punched upward beneath the rib cage, sliding between bones and into the heart.

  The bandit convulsed once.

  Then nothing.

  Kaelen lowered him beside the first corpse.

  Two.

  He moved again.

  A pair of archers sat near a fallen log, whispering quietly over a wineskin, bows resting across their knees. Neither noticed the darkness sliding between trees behind them.

  Kaelen flicked his wrist.

  The whip uncoiled silently.

  Shadow clung to its length.

  The lash snapped forward—

  Wrapping both archers’ throats at once.

  Kaelen pulled.

  The whip tightened.

  Bone cracked.

  The two bodies jerked violently before slumping sideways together.

  Four.

  Still no alarm.

  Kaelen stepped deeper into the camp.

  Bandits circled the fire ahead—laughing, arguing, sharpening blades. More than twenty now in clear sight.

  Good.

  Lightning surged through Kaelen’s legs.

  He blurred forward.

  The first man saw movement and opened his mouth—

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  The katana ended him.

  Veil slid across the throat in a clean arc that sprayed a thin ribbon of blood across the firelight.

  The body dropped.

  Kaelen pivoted through the motion.

  The whip snapped low, tangling a man’s ankles and jerking him forward.

  The katana reversed grip.

  The blade punched through the falling bandit’s chest and withdrew in the same motion.

  Six.

  A shout finally broke the night.

  “INTRUD—!”

  Lightning cracked.

  A controlled burst of Ni exploded across the ground around Kaelen’s feet, stunning the nearest cluster of bandits.

  Vision blurred.

  Timing shattered.

  Kaelen stepped into the chaos.

  The whip cracked again—wrapping around a spear shaft and ripping it free from its owner’s hands before reversing direction and striking across another man’s face.

  Bone shattered.

  Veil flashed twice.

  Two heads fell before the bodies realized they were dead.

  Ten.

  The bandits rallied fast.

  To their credit.

  “Shields!” someone roared. “Form up!”

  Half a dozen men slammed into formation around the fire, shields locking, blades jutting through gaps in the wall of metal.

  Kaelen slowed.

  Studied.

  Then moved.

  Shadow surged beneath his boots.

  He vanished.

  The shield wall held for exactly one second.

  Kaelen reappeared behind it.

  The whip lashed forward, hooking the back of a shield and yanking the defender off balance. The moment the man stumbled, Veil slid into the exposed gap beneath his arm.

  Another bandit turned too slowly.

  The katana punctured his spine.

  Twelve.

  The formation collapsed immediately.

  Fear spread faster than fire.

  Men rushed him from every angle now—desperate swings, clumsy lunges, wild strikes meant to overwhelm him with numbers.

  Kaelen welcomed it.

  The whip spun in a tight arc, entangling two men together before snapping them violently into each other.

  Their skulls cracked.

  Kaelen vaulted between them, lightning bursting briefly along his calves to accelerate the leap.

  He landed inside another attacker’s guard.

  The dagger in his off hand punched through the eye.

  Fourteen.

  A spear thrust toward his back.

  Shadow bent.

  Kaelen twisted just enough for the blade to scrape across cloth instead of flesh.

  The whip reversed direction mid-air and wrapped around the attacker’s wrist.

  Kaelen pulled.

  Hard.

  The man stumbled forward directly into Veil’s waiting edge.

  Fifteen.

  The bandits were shouting now.

  Panic overtook coordination.

  Some tried to surround him.

  Others tried to flee.

  Kaelen moved faster.

  Lightning surged again—not explosive, but rhythmic.

  Short bursts.

  Acceleration.

  Position change.

  Kill.

  The katana cleaved through an axe swing and continued into the man’s collarbone.

  Sixteen.

  The whip snapped around another bandit’s throat and dragged him across the ground toward Kaelen.

  The dagger finished him.

  Seventeen.

  Two rushed him together.

  Kaelen slid between them.

  The whip caught the first by the knee, ripping him sideways.

  Veil flashed across the second’s stomach, spilling him open before Kaelen pivoted and drove the blade downward through the first man’s chest.

  Nineteen.

  The remaining bandits faltered.

  Some dropped their weapons.

  Others backed away slowly.

  Kaelen didn’t stop.

  Lightning surged once more through his legs.

  He crossed the clearing in a blink.

  The whip lashed.

  The katana whispered.

  Two more bodies collapsed.

  Twenty-one.

  Another tried to run.

  The whip snapped around his ankle and dragged him screaming across the dirt.

  The dagger ended it.

  Twenty-two.

  Three more rushed in desperation.

  Kaelen stepped forward.

  Blood Ni surged through his arms.

  The first strike shattered a jaw.

  The second pierced a lung.

  The third never finished raising his weapon before Veil split his throat.

  Twenty-five.

  Smoke drifted across the clearing now as the campfire kicked sparks into the air.

  Five bandits remained.

  They tried to form up again.

  Too slow.

  The whip cracked twice.

  Two fell.

  Veil moved once.

  Three.

  Twenty-eight.

  The last two stood frozen in terror.

  Kaelen walked toward them slowly.

  Lightning hummed faintly beneath his skin.

  The first tried to swing.

  The katana removed his arm.

  The second tried to run.

  The whip caught his neck.

  Kaelen pulled him close.

  The dagger slid into the heart.

  Thirty.

  Silence fell across the clearing.

  Bodies lay scattered across the camp.

  Snow darkened with blood.

  The fire crackled softly.

  Kaelen stood in the center of it all, breathing steady, lightning fading from his veins, shadow slowly receding back into the ground.

  Then—

  A roar.

  Heat surged.

  The campfire exploded outward as a massive figure stepped forward, long sword blazing with fire Ni.

  The remaining bandits instinctively backed away from him.

  Their leader.

  Mutant.

  Powerful.

  Furious.

  Kaelen stood across the clearing, blood dripping from his blade.

  The bandit leader turned slowly.

  And saw him.