When Kyran turned 18, his life turned upside down. The Royal Army raided his clan because his supposedly non-existent magic got exposed. On that fateful night, he was the only one who escaped. Up to the present, the status of his clan was unknown. A magic inheritance that became a curse, Kyran became a fugitive. Always on the run... living in fear when the Royal Army finally captures him. At least that's what most people thought... "I'll definitely save my family. And I will make all those who made my clan suffer pay tenfold. I'll make use of this magic they so feared, and show them what real terror is...." Disclaimer: The cover image isn't mine. I'll replace it when I finished mine.
"The rest of the puppets will only start moving once the last puppet from the current batch is destroyed," Kyran answered Leif's last question, his tone conveying the urgency of the situation. "If the last puppet is destroyed, then the number of puppets that will start moving will double, bringing the count to sixty-four. We can't afford to waste time dealing with them as their number increases."
"Thus, detaining the last one will stop the process... I think I get that now. But, just who are you—?"
"As I said," Kyran cut her midsentence, aiming his hand at the struggling puppet. Then, he started manipulating the magic energies to form an imprisonment array to properly detain it. "We can't afford to waste time here."
But Leif's attention was already diverted elsewhere after she saw the array formation being created from nothing. Only then did she realize something as she returned her attention to the destroyed puppets on the ground.