Zayn's sharp eyes caught the movement first.
At first, it was just the subtle flicker of shadows weaving through the trees.
But then — a glint of steel, the faint bobbing of lanterns swaying with movement.
Horses.
His muscles tensed as the realization hit.
Not one. Not two. A full damn squad.
They came riding in — a band of masked riders, some carrying blades, others brandishing crossbows.
Their lanterns cut through the darkness, casting eerie, dancing lights across the dirt path.
Looked like a scene straight out of an action anime honestly.
The sight of them should have been intimidating, but Zayn's instincts kicked in almost immediately.
Their Soul Energy?
Weak.
At best, they were small-timers, thugs who had probably jumped at the opportunity to hit an unguarded trade route.
Zayn might've been worried if he were still a greenhorn adventurer, but now?
This was just warm-up.
But then his gaze shifted beyond the bandits.
