Chapter 174: Dissuasion
The sky had darkened like a lid of lead. A grey, dull light clung to the skin, heavy and muffled like a threat not yet spoken. The wind blew in dry waves, carrying scents of rust and old blood—remnants of a front too recently deserted.
There were five of them. Five awakened from the county of Martissant, stationed at the edge of a territory that Pilaf now claimed to control.
They all breathed in silence, and even among them, some held their breath, as if speaking would be a sin.
Only the sound of boots on hardened sand, the irregular clink of armor plates. Each wore different equipment—composite armors, quilted cloaks, reinforced leather—reflections of their individuality, their roles, their scars. Nothing standard. Nothing decorative.
And Tonar walked at the front.
That colossus with harsh features, grey skin stretched over a frame built to survive, not to charm. His bare arms bore traces of old burns and poorly stitched gashes. A massive short-handled sword hung across his back, swaying with each step, untouched. He didn’t need to touch it.
Behind him, Élisa moved without a sound.
She carried her lance—long, dark, perfectly balanced. She didn’t emit anything particular. Just a young elf in combat attire, face neutral, eyes lowered. Except nothing in her was neutral. She was holding back, that was all. Her breathing was slower than the others’. Her fingers didn’t tremble. And her presence weighed subtly on the air.
The others followed. Three awakened, silent and disciplined, selected for this slow march toward tension.
They reached the contact point at noon.
An old relay station, reduced to a few scorched walls and a fallen sign, now sheltering rats and scavengers. In front of them stood five other figures.
The Pilaf team.