A cold prickle crawled up Ethan’s spine. “You couldn’t confirm it even if you wanted to,” she continued softly. “High-clearance units aren’t permitted to disclose affiliation. Especially not to civilians.” The biggest succubus exhaled slowly. “Oh gods. He’s that kind.” “The quiet ones,” the third said faintly. “The ones whose names don’t exist on record.” Ethan remained silent. Not because he was trying to be dramatic. Because he genuinely had no idea what to say next. Three pairs of eyes were on him now—measuring, recalculating. He could almost feel them trying to slot him into some invisible taxonomy of power and threat. Say too much, and he’d expose the lie. Say too little, and he’d invite suspicion. Say the wrong thing— You’re dead, his brain supplied helpfully. However, in order to maintain his sense of mystery, Ethan did not rush to explain. He let the moment breathe, pretending the pause was intentional while his thoughts scrambled. He searched for something—an

Velthra’s wings flared slightly before she caught herself. Ilyss sucked in a sharp breath. “My… guard?” Karpeta repeated, her voice a mix of surprise and curiosity. “Yes,” Ethan said simply. Karpeta’s brow furrowed. “But… why? Why now?” Ethan’s tone remained calm, neutral, as if suggesting nothing more significant than a change in travel formation. “It provides a clear explanation for my presence,” he said. “Authority without exposure. Mobility without scrutiny.” Karpeta glanced at Velthra, then back to Ethan. “So… you’re proposing this as a matter of convenience?” Ethan shook his head slightly. “Not convenience. Strategy. Discretion. And… accountability.” “Accountability?” Karpeta echoed. “Yes,” Ethan replied, meeting her eyes directly. “It places responsibility somewhere acceptable.” She stared at him for a long moment, trying to weigh the meaning behind his words. “So,” she said finally, “you would be publicly associated with me.” “I would,” he confirmed. “And others wo

The silence did not break.It deepened.Ethan stood still on the ancient road, eyes scanning the empty ridgelines.Velthra’s wings shifted slightly.“It’s reacting,” she said quietly.Karpeta looked at Ethan. “Did you do something?”“No,” he said evenly.That was true.He had done nothing.And yet—The road felt aware.Not hostile.Not welcoming.Just… aware.Like something ancient had opened one eye.Ethan forced himself to breathe slowly. He did not speak of the thread in his chest. He did not speak of the way it pulsed in rhythm with the stone beneath his boots.He simply said, “It’s stable.”Velthra studied him. “You’re certain?”“Yes.”A pause.Then Karpeta nodded. “We continue.”No one questioned him further.But the road did not feel the same after that.It felt like it was listening.⸻They made camp when night fully fell.The sky above the highlands shimmered with deep crimson stars, unfamiliar constellations burning faintly through the haze. The wind had died completely.Too