Ethan moved through the narrow alleyways like a phantom, each step silent despite the chaos of
the slums around him. Flickering lanterns threw trembling shadows across brick walls, and the
scent of cheap liquor and damp earth hung thick in the night air.
He felt the presence before he saw it—a spark of raw mana, pulsing faintly like a buried ember.
His eyes narrowed, gleaming silver under the glow of hanging lamps.
There.
In a half-collapsed corridor between two squat buildings, a figure lay sprawled on the cracked
stones. Dark hair spilled across the ground like ink, and moonlight caught the sharp angles of his
face—a handsome face, with a sculpted jawline and high cheekbones, framed by long black hair.
Even slumped on the floor, there was a quiet elegance about him, an aura that screamed noble
even beneath dirt and bruises.
Grey eyes fluttered open, dazed but startlingly clear.
Ethan's lips curved into a slow smirk.
