The man looked worse than before.
His face was pale under the lantern light. His steps slightly unsteady, though he tried to mask it. The guards flanking him pretended not to notice.
The carriage door opened. Vayne climbed inside.
Four guards remained outside, two riding ahead, two behind.
They moved.
Aiden rose from the rooftop.
This was the moment he had prepared for.
The carriage rolled into a quieter district, where the buildings thinned and the streets widened. At this hour, there were no wandering merchants. No curious civilians. Only silence and the soft clatter of wheels against stone.
Then—
A shadow moved in the alley ahead.
One.
Then another.
Ten figures stepped out slowly, blocking the road.
They wore dark cloaks and leather armor. Masks covered their faces. Weapons hung at their sides. To any observer, they looked like a group of hired mercenaries waiting for trouble.
Behind the carriage, two more figures dropped soundlessly from the rooftops.
Bonefist.
