The horses had been running for two days straight.

Gabriel didn't need to stop. His body had changed in ways he was still discovering. The exhaustion that used to claw at him after hours of riding simply didn't come anymore. His muscles didn't burn. His breath didn't shorten. The cold that should have bitten through his cloak felt distant, like a memory of discomfort rather than the thing itself. He could ride until the horse beneath him collapsed and then keep walking.

But Tess couldn't.

He forced himself to remember that. Forced himself to check over his shoulder every few hours and see her slumped in the saddle, her face pale with fatigue, her hands gripping the reins with determination. Dark circles had formed under her eyes. Her lips were cracked from the wind. She swayed slightly with each step the horse took, fighting to stay conscious.

She hadn't complained once. She wouldn't. But her body was human in ways his wasn't anymore.

So he stopped.

The ridge overlooked a valley that stretched west toward the setting sun. Gabriel dismounted in one fluid motion and caught Tess as she half-fell from her saddle, her legs barely holding her weight when they touched the ground.

"I'm fine," she muttered, pushing weakly against his chest.

"You're not." Gabriel guided her to sit against a tree trunk, lowering her carefully. "Rest. We'll move again before dawn."

Tess didn't argue, which told him how exhausted she really was. Her eyes closed almost immediately, and within minutes her breathing deepened into the rhythms of sleep. Her head tilted sideways against the bark, and Gabriel adjusted her position slightly so her neck wouldn't cramp.

Then he stood watch.

His eyes scanned the valley below, taking in details that would have been invisible to him a month ago. The awakening had changed his vision. Sharpened it, extended its range. He could count individual trees two miles away. Could see the patterns of frost forming on distant rocks as the temperature dropped. Could track the flight of a hawk circling over the valley floor and count the beats of its wings.

And there it was.

Ariya's camp.

He'd been tracking them for two days. Following the scorched earth where her red smoke had touched the ground, the peculiar sweet and rotten smell that clung to the trail like a signature. The same smell from his nightmares. The same smell from the basement where she'd carved sigils into his chest and whispered Righteousness begets cruelty while he screamed.

His hands clenched around his sword hilts, the leather grips creaking under the pressure.

The camp sat in a clearing two miles west, positioned at the base of a low hill. Even from this distance, Gabriel's enhanced vision picked out details that shouldn't have been visible: fifty soldiers in perfect formation, their camp arranged in concentric circles around a central command tent. White cloaks mixed with darker armour. Church forces and something else. Mercenaries maybe. Or worse.

The organisation was military-precise. Patrols moved in coordinated patterns, their routes overlapping to ensure no gap in coverage. Sentries stood at elevated positions on wooden platforms, their attention sweeping the perimeter in synchronised arcs. Supply tents were positioned in the outer ring. Command structures in the centre. Everything about the layout screamed professional discipline.

And at the centre, barely visible through the camp's structure, Gabriel saw the prisoner tent.

A simple canvas structure, larger than the supply tents but smaller than the command tent. Two guards stood at its entrance. No, three. A fourth circled around it every few minutes, checking the rear approach.

His danger sense pulsed. A constant pressure at the base of his skull that had been screaming since they'd gotten within five miles of the camp. It felt like standing at the edge of a cliff in high wind, his instincts shrieking at him to step back, to run, to get as far away as possible.

Because Ariya was down there.

He could feel her presence like a second heartbeat in his chest. That wrongness that came from being near another awakened Dracamerian. The power she radiated made the air itself feel heavier, denser, harder to breathe. Even at this distance, even with two miles of open ground between them, Gabriel could sense the shape of her power. It pressed against his awareness like heat from a distant fire.

She was stronger than him. The certainty of it settled in his gut like a stone.

Gabriel watched the camp for three hours as the sun set and torches were lit. He counted patrol rotations: twelve minutes for the outer ring, eight for the inner. Memorised the timing of guard changes: precisely on the hour, three guards replaced by three fresh ones, the transition taking forty-five seconds during which both sets were present and distracted by the handoff.

He identified the gaps in coverage. Small, brief, but there. The northeastern quadrant had a blind spot where three tents created a shadow that torchlight didn't fully penetrate. The patrol route there left a thirty-second window every twelve minutes when no one was actively watching that approach.

Thirty seconds. Not much. But maybe enough.

His companions were in that tent. Mera. Gilbert. Adan. Ennu. Alive, he assumed, because Ariya wanted them alive. Wanted him to know they were alive.

This was bait.

She'd taken them, brought them here, positioned everything perfectly to draw him in. The visible prisoners. The obvious perimeter. The meticulous organisation that was just professional enough to seem formidable but not so overwhelming that he'd abandon hope entirely. The invitation written in the camp's very structure: Come and get them, Gabriel. Walk into my trap like you walked into Lucius's.

Four years ago, he would have done it. He would have charged straight in, swords drawn, righteousness and fury driving him forward until Lucius broke him in seconds and left him bleeding in the street.

But he'd learned.

Hanitz had taught him to plan. To wait. To choose his ground. The best fight is the one your enemy doesn't know they're in. The giant's voice echoed in Gabriel's memory, gruff and certain. You want to win? Don't fight fair. Don't give them what they expect. Make them react to you, not the other way around.

Gabriel studied the layout obsessively, his mind cataloging every detail. The prisoner tent was positioned deliberately in the center. Maximum distance from any edge, requiring passage through multiple defensive rings to reach it. Torches created overlapping fields of visibility, ensuring that anyone approaching would be lit from multiple angles. Patrols moved in groups of three, never alone, always within shouting distance of another group.

The supply tents in the outer ring were positioned to create chokepoints. Narrow passages between them that would funnel any attacker into predictable paths. The command tent sat on slightly elevated ground, giving anyone inside a clear view of the entire camp.

Ariya had built this to funnel him exactly where she wanted.

So he wouldn't go where she wanted.

Gabriel's mind worked through possibilities. A direct assault was suicide. Fifty soldiers, coordinated defenses, Ariya herself waiting somewhere in that camp with power that made his skin crawl even at this distance.

Stealth, then. Use the blind spots. Time the patrol gaps. Get in, cut his people loose, and get out before anyone realises what had happened.

The plan formed in layers: approach from the northeast during the guard change. Use the thirty-second window to slip past the outer ring. Move between the supply tents using the shadow gaps. Reach the prisoner tent from the rear while the guards faced outward. Cut through the canvas rather than approaching the entrance. Free his companions. Exit the same way, timing it to the patrol rotations.

It could work. Maybe. If everything went perfectly and Ariya didn't notice until they were already gone.

That was a lot of ifs.

When Tess woke two hours before dawn, her eyes crusty with sleep, Gabriel had her memorise the patrol patterns he'd observed. He made her repeat them back to him three times until she could recite the timing without hesitation.

They ate cold rations in silence. Dried meat and hard bread that tasted like dust. Gabriel barely tasted it. His body didn't seem to need food the way it used to. He ate out of habit more than hunger.

Then they moved.

Gabriel led them down from the ridge under cover of darkness, moving through the trees with steps so quiet they barely disturbed the fallen leaves. Tess followed, her movements less silent but still careful. She'd learned to move like a hunter during their time together.

He positioned them on a wooded hill half a mile from the camp's northern edge. Close enough to move quickly when the moment came, far enough to avoid detection by the sentries. His enhanced senses tracked every movement below: the clink of armor as guards shifted position, the murmur of voices as patrols passed each other, the crackle of campfires burning low.

The camp was waking up as dawn approached. More movement. More voices. Guards changing shifts with that same forty-five-second transition.

"What's the plan?" Tess whispered, her voice barely audible even to Gabriel's enhanced hearing.

Gabriel's eyes didn't leave the camp. "Stealth. We get them out without Ariya knowing until it's too late."

"And if she notices?"

"Then we run. Fast." He glanced at her. "No heroics. No fighting unless there's no other choice. We get in, get them out, and disappear."

Tess studied his profile. Even in the darkness, she could see how much he'd changed. The completely black hair that used to be silver, the sharper angles of his face, the way his red eyes seemed to glow faintly in the dark like coals in a dying fire. His shoulders had broadened slightly. His movements had gained a fluid quality that was almost unsettling to watch.

"You really think we can get them out without her noticing?"

Gabriel's jaw tightened. "We have to."

Because the alternative was facing Ariya directly. And Gabriel had seen what she could do. Felt the power radiating from her presence even at this distance. She'd had four years to complete her awakening, four years to master her abilities, four years to become whatever she was now.

If it came to a direct fight, he wasn't sure he could win. Wasn't sure he could even survive.

So he wouldn't fight her.

He'd take his people and disappear before she realised they were gone. Use the skills Hanitz had taught him. Be smart. Be patient. Strike when she wasn't looking and vanish before she could respond.

It was the only way.

Gabriel watched the camp as the night deepened around them, every patrol rotation burning itself into his memory. The guards changed again. The patrols continued their circuits. The torches burned low and were replaced.

Waiting for the perfect moment.

Waiting for the gap that would let him save his people without getting them all killed.

His hand rested on his sword hilt, and he forced himself to breathe slowly, evenly, keeping his body relaxed despite the tension coiling in his chest.

Soon.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.