The stench reached them first.

  Sweat. Fear. Old blood.

  Kaelen slowed instinctively, the Spear of the Sanguine shortening in his hand to six feet as he crouched behind broken stone.

  Ahead, torchlight flickered.

  Voices followed.

  “Hand it over!”

  “Please—we don’t have—”

  “Then we’ll take the girl.”

  Kaelen’s jaw tightened.

  Ten bandits surrounded a small family on the cracked road below.

  A bound man on his knees.

  A woman clutching a crying child.

  Another child frozen behind her.

  Mismatched armor. Rusted blades.

  Not professionals.

  Worse.

  Comfortable.

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  Roric stopped beside Kaelen.

  Vex leaned against a tree.

  They said nothing.

  They didn’t need to.

  This was a test Kaelen had to see.

  Kaelen watched their movement. The flanking pair. The drunk brute. The leader who barked orders but never stepped forward.

  Humans.

  His grip tightened.

  “Rules?” he asked quietly.

  Roric paused.

  “None given.”

  Vex smiled faintly. “Your call.”

  The sobbing cut through the night.

  Decision settled in Kaelen’s chest.

  He rose.

  The spear lengthened to ten feet as shadows clung to him.

  One bandit noticed.

  “—HEY—”

  Too late.

  Kaelen moved.

  No lightning.

  No blood surge.

  Just precision.

  The first thrust was clean.

  A bandit dropped without sound.

  Shock rippled.

  Kaelen was already among them.

  The spear shortened mid-spin, sweeping legs. Extended instantly to impale another from beyond sword range.

  They panicked.

  Kaelen flowed.

  Redirect. Phase. Kill.

  They’re slow.

  Two rushed him together.

  He shortened the spear to dagger length, drove it into the first man’s sternum—then extended it violently, launching the corpse backward into the second.

  Both fell.

  The leader tried to run.

  Shadows surged.

  Kaelen appeared in front of him.

  The spear rested lightly at his throat.

  “Drop it,” Kaelen said, voice distorted.

  The sword clattered.

  One strike.

  Silence.

  He turned to the family.

  They stared at him—not sure whether to fear or thank him.

  “Go,” he said.

  They ran.

  Kaelen stood alone amid the dead.

  Behind him—

  Roric exhaled.

  Vex whistled softly.

  “He didn’t hesitate,” Roric said.

  Kaelen looked down at the spear.

  Not power.

  Purpose.

  He stepped forward.