The first bandit never saw him.
Kaelen hit the slope at full sprint, snow and dirt scattering beneath his boots.
The whip uncoiled with a soft hiss.
Veil slid into his right hand.
The bandits barely had time to shout.
The whip lashed first—wrapping around a man’s ankle and yanking hard.
The bandit hit the ground screaming.
Veil flicked once.
The scream cut off.
Kaelen didn’t slow.
Lightning threaded through his movements.
Blood Ni reinforced silently.
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Shadow swallowed sound.
A bandit raised a crossbow.
The whip cracked—wrapping around the weapon, twisting, tearing it free.
Kaelen spun, Veil slicing another throat.
He flowed.
Left. Right. Step. Turn.
The whip guided. The blade finished.
From the hilltop, Vex stood perfectly still.
“That’s choreography,” he murmured.
Roric snorted.
“He’s herding them.”
The bandits panicked.
They rushed him in a clump.
Kaelen welcomed it.
The whip snapped wide, shadow stretching its reach just enough to entangle three men.
He vaulted over them, Veil flashing downward.
One. Two. Three.
Another lunged.
Kaelen didn’t look.
The whip reversed direction, wrapping around the man’s throat and yanking him forward.
Veil ended him.
Fifteen.
Sixteen.
Seventeen.
The last three ran.
Lightning surged through Kaelen’s legs.
He crossed the distance in a heartbeat.
The whip took the first.
The katana took the second.
The third made two more steps before the blade whispered once.
Silence fell.
Twenty bodies lay scattered.
Kaelen stood among them, whip retracting slowly, Veil angled downward.
He exhaled once.
Roric and Vex dragged the five commanders forward, forcing them to their knees.
Their faces were pale.
Vex shook his head slowly.
“I’ve spent centuries studying weapons,” he said quietly. “And I’ve never seen anyone make a whip and katana… sing.”
Kaelen didn’t respond.
He began walking toward the kneeling men.
The dance was over.
Now came the reckoning.
