Chapter 24: FRIH - 24
Terror and shock filled him. The mercenary's heart pounded in his chest, the weight of the situation slowly sinking in. The rush of adrenaline had faded, leaving him with nothing but fear. He never expected this from a robbery—he had assumed it would be a quick and easy job. But now, the battle had turned against them with a swiftness that left him speechless.
The pain from his broken wrist still gnawed at him, but his survival instincts were stronger. He knew he was finished, that this was the end. Yet, some small part of him clung desperately to hope. Ronan hadn't noticed him. He could still play dead. If he lay still enough, if he slowed his breathing and suppressed the pain long enough, maybe, just maybe, he would be able to escape. The blood pooling beneath him threatened to spill onto the stone pavement, but he forced himself to keep it in, trying to stem the flow with whatever strength he had left.
As Ronan turned to leave, seemingly unconcerned by the devastation left in his wake, a sudden shift in the air caught his attention. His gaze snapped to the corner of the alley, narrowing with focus.
A pebble, no larger than a fingernail, floated upward, spinning slowly before striking the stone wall with a sharp clang!
Clang!
The sound echoed off the walls, high-pitched and metallic, reverberating in the alley with a suddenness that made the air feel heavy. It was the kind of sound that made your skin prickle, that drew attention whether you wanted it or not. Someone was there. It wasn't just the echo of a stray object—it was a signal.
Ronan's eyes shifted, his body instinctively tensing. He turned to Frieren, who had been watching the scene unfold silently, her gaze already flicking toward the source of the noise. The stillness of the alley seemed to stretch out, drawing their senses to every subtle shift in the environment. Every rustle of leaves, every faint movement was amplified, as if the entire world had slowed to a crawl.
"Come out," Ronan's voice was calm, carrying the authority of someone who didn't need to raise their voice to command attention.
Rustle, rustle.