Left alone in his dimly lit room, Poll returned to the documents, his eyes scanning the dense script. The faint sound of the quill scratching as he jotted notes added to the stillness of the basement. Yet his concentration wavered. An unsettling feeling prickled at the edge of his senses, like a breeze carrying the scent of an unseen storm.
Then it hit. A subtle shift in the mana flow around him. Barely perceptible, but enough to jolt him upright. His gaze snapped to the detection orb on his desk. The small device hummed, its glow pulsing in an erratic rhythm. His heartbeat quickened, matching the device's tempo. Someone—no, multiple someones—were nearby. And they were powerful.
Poll reached for a small, rune-etched stone on his table, pressing it firmly onto the orb. The device sprang to life, projecting a shimmering three-dimensional map of his home and the surrounding grounds. Faint, glowing mana trails marked the presence of life forms. His stomach tightened as he noted the figures lingering just beyond the protective barrier he'd meticulously set up.
"Looks like someone's curious," Poll murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. His mind raced, weighing possibilities. Are they scouts? Assassins? Or just idiots who don't know whose doorstep they're lurking near?
He moved swiftly, retrieving a pair of gloves from a nearby drawer. Their sleek black surface glinted faintly, the embedded stones within them shimmering with restrained energy. The gloves were his pride—a culmination of months of experimentation. They would amplify his mana, turning his spells into something far more precise and devastating.
As he slipped the gloves on, his lips curved into a faint, confident smile. "If they're looking for trouble," he muttered, "they've come to the right place."
But before he could act, Poll's instincts flared again. A familiar mana signature surged faintly amidst the intruders. His breath hitched, his brow furrowing. Wait... I know this presence. He focused intently, channeling energy through the gloves. The map shifted, zooming in on the cluster of red points showing more details about that Mana signature. His eyes locked onto one specific figure, moving with measured precision among the others.
"Liana?" he whispered, the name slipping from his lips like a venomous revelation. The maid from the castle.
Poll's thoughts spiraled, piecing together fragments of earlier encounters. Why is she here? Is she with them? Or… His mind raced to darker conclusions. Could the king have sent her? No, it doesn't add up. Unless… this is a test?
The weight of unanswered questions bore down on him, but there was no time to dwell. His grip on the edge of the table tightened, his knuckles turning white. "Too many questions," he muttered, closing his eyes to steel his thoughts. "Focus, Poll, don't get careless," he whispered to himself.
His mind sharpened, his resolve hardening. He glanced back at the map, the flickering red dot representing Liana almost taunting him with its persistence. A dark glint flickered in his eye as his lips curled into a smirk.
The glint in his eye turned steely. "Alright… Let the game begin," he whispered.