Approximately six hours later, a cloaked figure moved with silent haste through the pre-dawn gloom, the outlines of Oakhaven’s territory finally coming into view. It was none other than Amaniel who was returning from his secret visit to the Eclipse Keep.
’Hoof...’
Just a little farther, and he would be within the town’s walls. He could perhaps manage a quick, two-hour nap before the sun rose.
’Hmm?’
But as Aman drew closer, a strange sensation enveloped him. It was a subtle pressure, a faint dissonance in the air that made the fine hairs on his arms stand up. He frowned, his pace slowing to a stop as he scanned the surroundings, his senses stretched to their limit.
’...’
He saw nothing... No movement, no foreign aura, no trace of a living presence. Yet the feeling persisted, growing stronger with every step he took toward the town. It was a deep, invasive chill that had nothing to do with the morning air.
’What’s this? I... feel cold?’
His body began to grow cold, a response that was not his own. A faint, ethereal mist began to coil from his robes, frosting the leaves at his feet. This should have been impossible; he was immune to cold thanks to his bond with Sereniel. So how?
A glint of sharp awareness passed through his eyes, and for a fleeting moment, a ripple of faint, blue flames danced across his irises before vanishing.
’!’
It was then he noticed it.
A gaze.
A cold, threatening gaze was directed at him from somewhere within that silent, white expanse. He couldn’t see the owner, couldn’t pinpoint eyes or a form, but he could feel it — a razor’s edge of intent pressed against his throat.
The primal, instinctual part of his brain screamed a single, clear warning: if he took one more step toward the town, his life would be in serious, immediate danger.
Aman felt a surge of confusion and curiosity, warring with a healthy sense of self-preservation. Knowing he wouldn’t stand a chance against whatever was projecting this pressure, he stopped his advance and deliberately retreated several paces.
The overwhelming pressure lessened by a slight, but noticeable, margin.
’Are they... protecting the town?’ he thought inwardly. Because that was the only logical explanation, this felt like a sentinel warding off approaching threats under the cover of night.
’Or... only someone special alone?’ The thought surfaced next. That was plausible, too. With the Princess and Cassandra being high-value targets, including Vance, of course, it made sense to have a hidden protector watching over them. They were, in a sense, the main characters of this region’s unfolding story.
Or... was this individual the sleeping lion, old man Heron? The one whose status was sealed and suppressed? The power he felt was immense, fitting for someone of Heron’s supposed former stature.
Whatever the case, he would have to find another way to enter the town or wait until the danger disappeared on its own.
Moreover, he could rest easy knowing there was no reaction from his system or his achievement. If Cassandra were in any real danger, he would have been teleported to her side long ago. This entity was not a threat to her, and probably not to the town either. It was a threat only to those like him, approaching unseen in the dead of night.
He settled into a crouch behind a snowdrift, the mist around him fading as he stilled his aura completely.
’Whatever, I will just meditate,’ he muttered inwardly. ’I’m close to comprehending the new technique anyway...’
But he didn’t completely let his guard down. He let Seren act as his guardian as usual and then closed his eyes, slowly sinking into a state of deep focus.
The world around him narrowed to the flow of energy within his core. The strange, chilling pressure from the unseen watcher became a distant background hum, a constant reminder of the danger that kept him sharp rather than distracting him. In this state of heightened awareness, the intricacies of the technique he had been pondering began to unravel before his mind’s eye.
Time passed.
"..."
Aman opened his eyes, the subtle light from the morning sun glinting off the fresh snow. The world had shifted from deep night to pale dawn. More importantly, the oppressive pressure that had pinned him in place was gone, completely.
He remained perfectly still for a long minute, his senses stretched to their limits, probing the quiet landscape. He even used Exorcist’s Gaze again.
’...Nothing, huh.’
It seems like the sentinel had withdrawn itself with the night. Truly mysterious.
’Well, I should quickly return then, before anyone notices.’
With that thought, he stood and brushed the snow from his robes. Slipping back into Oakhaven was simple in the morning’s organized chaos. As he’d hoped, his absence had gone entirely unnoticed by everyone except one person.
When he caught Cassandra’s eye across the dining hall during breakfast, she gave him a look that was both questioning and knowing, followed by a slight, almost imperceptible nod. He returned it with a faint shrug. That was the end of the matter.
The rest of the morning unfolded with a familiar rhythm. They shared a simple meal, discussed the day’s plans, and then parted ways once more.
Just before lunch, Aman visited the western perimeter where the reconstruction of the fence had begun.
The scene was one of organized labor. Vice Captain Elria stood on a slight rise, her sharp eyes missing nothing as she supervised. The workforce was a mix of a few able-bodied townsmen and the bandits. And among them, working with a grim, relentless energy, was Vance.
Aman’s gaze drifted over the group and landed on Olan. The man was hefting a heavy log, his face a mask of sullen concentration. Looking at him, Aman vividly recalled the events of the previous night — the terror in his wife’s eyes, the disgusting boasts of their former leader.
He felt a pang of pity, but it was reserved solely for the woman and her children. He was sure Olan knew exactly what kind of man their boss was and had still chosen to follow him, to be complicit in that environment.
’Sigh, whatever,’ he muttered inwardly. ’It’s not my problem anymore.’
He had set the wheels in motion.
The bandits were contained, the refugees would soon be rescued, and Olan’s family was safe. His part in their story was over. Turning away from the work site, he headed back towards the infirmary. There was still healing to be done.