The night did not move.

It waited.

A thick silence stretched across the trees surrounding Sian Village, broken only by the faint flicker of lanterns and the distant echo of movement below.

Hidden among the branches—

Commander Smith stood still.

His gaze fixed on the village center.

Watching.

Measuring.

Waiting for the exact moment to strike.

—

Soft footsteps approached from behind.

Controlled. Silent.

Commander Sue stepped beside him, her voice low.

“The plan is working properly. The village is encircled… and the soldiers are now approaching the center.”

Smith did not turn.

He gave a small nod.

—

Below—

The nine shadows moved slowly through the empty street.

Then—

They stopped.

One of them tilted his head.

Another followed.

Their attention shifted.

From the streets—

To the trees.

—

And in that moment—

Everything changed.

—

A blade flickered through the air.

Too fast to follow.

An archer dropped from above.

—

Before anyone could react—

Another movement.

Another blade.

A second archer fell.

—

Panic spread through the branches.

Archers began shifting positions, trying to escape unseen.

But the shadows were already ahead.

Every movement—

Tracked.

Every shift—

Punished.

—

Bodies began to fall.

One after another.

Some dead.

Some injured.

The trees were no longer safe.

—

From above, Liorin remained completely still.

Her grip tightened slightly on the bow.

Her eyes moved sharply, reading every motion below.

She understood the pattern.

Moving now—

Would mean death.

So she held her position.

And a few others, disciplined enough, followed her lead.

—

Behind the lines—

Sue’s voice carried quiet tension.

“One by one… bodies are falling.”

—

Smith’s expression hardened.

He had seen enough.

“Order the archers to come down.”

Then louder—

“Attack.”

—

His arrow shot upward, leaving a bright red trail across the sky.

A signal.

—

Far beyond the village—

Reins were pulled hard.

Horses surged forward.

The charge had begun.

—

At the front—

Valen rode with steady focus.

“I think the archer system has collapsed.”

—

Vihaan’s grip tightened.

“Liorin is there…”

—

Eryx’s voice followed, tense.

“Just say she’s fine.”

—

Valen did not look back.

“I can’t say anything.”

—

The horses moved faster.

Closer.

The distance vanished.

—

Back in the village—

The remaining archers fired rapidly, shifting positions constantly.

But the cost was visible.

More than half had fallen.

Some lay still.

Others struggled to move.

—

Then—

The soldiers arrived.

From every direction.

The village was surrounded.

—

The shadows noticed.

Their movements slowed.

Then stopped.

—

The flying knives ceased.

The arrows halted.

—

A standstill.

—

High above—

Smith and Sue stood on a thick branch.

Without a sound—

Valen landed beside them.

His eyes immediately locked onto the battlefield below.

—

A unit of soldiers moved forward.

Carefully at first.

Then faster.

They engaged.

Steel clashed.

Blades met in sharp bursts of sound.

—

One soldier attacked—

Blocked.

Another followed—

Stopped.

—

From behind—

a shadow moved.

A precise shift.

—

The formation broke.

—

Within moments—

The clash ended.

The soldiers fell.

Still.

—

Silence returned.

—

Valen’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“I thought they had surrendered after the first wave of arrows.”

—

Smith shook his head.

“No. They don’t surrender.”

A pause.

“They are fighting… but they are not planning.”

—

Sue added quietly—

“Which means… they are just following orders.”

—

A heavier silence followed.

—

Valen spoke again, his gaze fixed below.

“They are all connected. If one struggles, another supports.”

A pause.

“We cannot defeat them directly.”

—

Smith nodded slowly.

“Yes… but there is a way.”

His eyes sharpened.

“Separation… and execution.”

—

Sue turned instantly.

“Troops—move between them! Break their formation!”

Her voice rose further—

“Archers—do not let them regroup!”

—

Below—

Soldiers shifted rapidly, forcing space between the shadows.

Gaps began to form.

Distances widened.

—

For the first time—

They were not together.

—

Valen stepped forward.

“My turn first.”

—

His sword slid free.

A single smooth motion.

—

Then—

He moved.

—

A step.

A push.

A leap.

—

The branch beneath him did not move.

No sound.

No warning.

—

From above, Smith watched.

“This… is perfection of movement. Silent. Precise. No one can trace it.”

—

Valen descended toward one of the isolated shadows.

His blade cut downward in a clean arc.

—

The shadow reacted instantly.

Its sword rose.

Steel met steel.

—

For a moment—

They held.

—

The hood shifted slightly.

And for the first time—

The face was seen.

Pale.

Unnaturally so.

Gray eyes.

Empty.

And where there should have been expression—

There was nothing.

No lips.

No mouth.

Only a smooth, silent surface.

—

The blades slid against each other.

A sharp metallic sound echoed softly.

—

Valen shifted his footing.

Not rushing.

Not forcing.

Studying.

—

He moved again.

A low strike.

Blocked.

—

An upward cut.

Blocked again.

—

A third attack.

Redirected.

—

The shadow was precise.

Controlled.

Matching every motion.

—

For a few seconds—

The fight remained balanced.

Measured.

Testing.

—

Then—

Valen changed.

—

His stance lowered.

Closer.

More grounded.

—

The next strike came from below—

Faster.

Heavier.

—

The impact forced the shadow’s guard to open slightly.

A small gap.

—

Valen stepped in.

A swift flip kick struck the shadow’s grip.

The sword slipped—

Falling away.

—

Before it could recover—

A back kick followed.

Driving the shadow into the wall behind.

—

The impact echoed through the empty street.

—

Valen’s hand moved.

A knife flashed forward.

Precise.

Unwavering.

—

It struck.

—

And in the same motion—

Valen closed the distance.

His sword moved once more.

A final, controlled strike.

—

Then—

Stillness.

—

The shadow stopped moving.

—

Everything had happened in a seamless flow.

Not rushed.

Not wasted.

—

Perfect.

—

Across the battlefield—

Soldiers stood frozen.

Eyes widened.

Many had not even followed the sequence.

Only the result.

—

From above—

Smith spoke quietly.

“This is what a battlefield looks like… when one of the finest fighters of the decade enters.”

—

Sue exhaled softly.

“Valen is not less than a treasure for Thornvyl.”

—

Below—

Valen stood still.

Calm.

Unshaken.

—

But the battlefield had not ended.

—

Because eight shadows still remained.

—

And now—

They had seen him.

One shadow has fallen…

But still eight are remaining. 

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Who is controlling the shadows… and what happens when they finally reveal themselves?