Reflex

The man staggered to a halt, his breathing ragged, his face contorted in a gruesome mask of pain and fury. Blood poured from his shattered nose, trickling down to his chin before splattering on the ground. His eyes burned with rage as he snarled, "How dare you, brat?!"

His hand trembled as he raised his blade once more, blood staining his fingers as they curled around the hilt. Despite the injury, the crafter wasn't done. Summoning the last of his energy, he activated his stealth ability once again. In a flash, his form shimmered and disappeared. Only the faint echo of his footsteps lingered in the air, leaving behind an unsettling silence.

But Silas didn't move. He stood his ground, his posture unwavering, as if he had anticipated every second of the encounter. His gaze remained sharp, focused, unfazed by the man's disappearance.

Tension rippled through the air, thick and suffocating, like the calm before a storm.