Chapter 167: RUN
The light went out.
Denzel stared at the second-floor window.
For a moment, nothing happened.
The curtains remained motionless behind the glass, the faint outline he’d seen only seconds ago completely gone. He waited, watching the darkness as if the figure might suddenly reappear.
It didn’t.
His eyes narrowed.
’He disappeared?’
No.
Denzel’s expression hardened.
’He hid his aura.’
That was worse.
The Knight had taught him enough to understand what that meant. Concealing one’s presence wasn’t simply about standing somewhere dark or moving quietly. It required control. Discipline. An awareness of one’s own aura that most people never developed.
And whoever had been speaking to him had done it so naturally that Denzel hadn’t even noticed the transition.
He took a slow breath.
Then a voice came from beside him.
"We should go."
Denzel turned.
The Knight stood a few steps away, her figure partially swallowed by the darkness of the alley. He hadn’t heard her approach either.
His eyes lingered on her for a moment.
"You heard that too?"
"I heard enough."
Her gaze remained fixed on the building.
Denzel glanced back toward the dark window.
"You know who that is?"
"No."
The answer came too quickly.
Denzel looked at her again.
The Knight finally turned toward him.
"But I know what we should do."
"And that’s?"
"Leave."
Denzel didn’t move.
She studied him for a second before continuing.
"We’ve stayed too long."
His eyes returned to the building.
"Sophia is still inside."
"And?"
Denzel frowned.
"And we’re here because of her."
"We came here to find out where she was going." The Knight’s voice remained calm, but there was a firmness underneath it now. "We know where she went."
"That doesn’t tell us why."
"It tells us enough for tonight."
Denzel stared at the entrance.
The middle-aged woman had already disappeared inside. Sophia was somewhere upstairs. And whoever had spoken to him had vanished without leaving even the slightest trace.
Leaving now felt wrong.
It felt like walking away just before finding the answer.
The Knight stepped closer.
"Denzel."
He glanced at her.
"We don’t know what is inside that building."
"Neither does that mean we should run from it."
"I’m not asking you to run."
She paused.
"I’m telling you we need to leave."
Something in her tone made Denzel look at her properly.
She wasn’t merely being cautious.
She was tense.
Not visibly enough for someone who didn’t know her to notice, but Denzel had spent enough time around her to recognize the difference.
Her shoulders were slightly raised.
Her eyes weren’t wandering anymore.
They were fixed on the building.
And one hand had already moved closer to the weapon at her side.
Denzel’s expression slowly changed.
’She’s serious.’
He looked back toward the dark window.
"Fine."
The Knight gave a small nod.
"Good."
Denzel turned toward the mouth of the alley.
He took one step.
Then stopped.
The Knight stopped too.
Neither of them spoke.
Something had changed.
Denzel couldn’t immediately explain what it was.
The alley was still the same.
The old walls.
The uneven ground.
The faint light spilling from the street beyond.
But the sounds that had filled the night only moments ago seemed to have disappeared.
No distant footsteps.
No carriage wheels.
No rustling leaves.
Nothing.
Denzel’s eyes narrowed.
The Knight slowly turned her head.
"Don’t move."
Her voice was barely above a whisper.
Denzel didn’t.
His hand drifted closer to his weapon.
The Knight’s fingers closed around the hilt of hers.
She wasn’t looking at the building anymore.
She was looking behind them.
Denzel followed her gaze.
At first, there was nothing.
Just darkness stretching toward the far end of the alley.
Then—
Footsteps.
Slow.
Measured.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Someone was approaching.
Denzel’s body tightened.
The Knight stepped in front of him.
He looked at her back.
"Who is it?"
"Don’t speak."
Denzel’s eyes narrowed.
The footsteps continued.
A figure slowly emerged from the darkness.
An old man.
He walked with a slight hunch, one hand resting on a wooden walking stick. His clothes were plain, almost painfully ordinary, and his gray hair was pulled back loosely from his face.
There was nothing intimidating about him.
Nothing that should have made the Knight react the way she did.
But she did.
The moment the old man stepped into the faint light, her entire posture changed.
Her grip tightened around her weapon.
Her feet shifted.
Her body lowered almost imperceptibly.
Ready.
Denzel stared at the old man.
’She knows him.’
The old man continued walking.
He didn’t hurry.
He didn’t even seem concerned that two people were standing in the alley.
When he finally stopped, his eyes moved toward the Knight.
For several seconds, neither of them spoke.
Then his gaze shifted.
Straight to Denzel.
The old man’s eyes rested on him.
A faint smile appeared on his face.
"Interesting."
Denzel said nothing.
The Knight stepped forward.
"We’re leaving."
The old man didn’t respond.
His eyes remained on Denzel.
Then, almost casually, he asked,
"Are you the one who followed Sophia here?"
Denzel’s expression remained unchanged.
But internally, his thoughts raced.
’He knows.’
The Knight’s head turned slightly.
"Denzel."
A warning.
He understood.
Don’t answer.
The old man smiled.
"I see."
He tapped the end of his walking stick lightly against the ground.
"So you are."
Denzel watched him carefully.
There was no hostility in the old man’s voice.
That somehow made it worse.
The Knight moved another step forward, placing herself more clearly between Denzel and the old man.
"We have no business here."
The old man finally looked at her.
"No business?"
His smile widened slightly.
"Then why are you protecting him?"
The Knight’s expression hardened.
"Move aside."
The old man chuckled softly.
"Still protecting people who don’t understand what they’re standing beside."
Denzel’s eyes narrowed.
’What does that mean?’
The Knight didn’t answer.
Instead, she turned her head slightly toward Denzel.
"Come."
Denzel didn’t move immediately.
His eyes remained on the old man.
There was something wrong with him.
Not his appearance.
Not even his presence.
It was the complete lack of pressure coming from him.
Denzel couldn’t sense anything.
Nothing.
The same way the other person had disappeared from his senses moments ago.
His gaze sharpened.
’Another person who can hide their aura?’
The Knight reached back and caught his arm.
"Denzel."
This time, there was urgency in her voice.
He looked at her.
"Let’s go."
She pulled him toward the entrance of the alley.
Denzel allowed himself to be moved, but his eyes remained on the old man until the last possible moment.
The old man didn’t follow.
He simply stood there.
Watching them leave.
And for some reason, Denzel couldn’t shake the feeling that the old man had already decided how this night was going to end.
The Knight kept hold of Denzel’s arm as they moved toward the mouth of the alley.
Her grip wasn’t painful.
It didn’t need to be.
The urgency behind it was enough.
Denzel glanced back once.
The old man hadn’t moved.
He was still standing exactly where they’d left him, his walking stick resting loosely against the ground.
Watching.
Denzel turned forward again.
"You’re going to have to explain that."
"Later."
"That’s what you said before."
"I meant it this time."
Denzel looked at her.
She didn’t return the glance.
Her attention remained fixed ahead, her pace steady but faster than before.
They were almost out of the alley.
Then the old man’s voice drifted after them.
"You’re leaving already?"
The Knight stopped.
Denzel stopped with her.
Neither of them turned.
The old man chuckled softly.
"You’ve barely arrived."
The Knight’s jaw tightened.
"We’re leaving."
"Yes."
A pause.
"She always was good at knowing when to leave."
Denzel’s eyes narrowed.
The Knight finally turned around.
Her expression had changed.
Not fear this time.
Something colder.
"Don’t involve her."
The old man smiled.
"I wasn’t speaking to you."
His eyes moved past her.
Straight to Denzel.
Denzel felt the weight of that gaze settle on him.
The Knight stepped sideways, blocking it.
"Come."
She grabbed his arm again.
This time, Denzel followed without arguing.
They took two steps.
Then the old man spoke again.
"Denzel."
His feet stopped.
The Knight’s grip tightened around his arm.
Denzel slowly turned his head.
The old man was smiling.
Denzel’s expression hardened.
He had never told him his name.
Not once.
The Knight’s eyes closed for the briefest moment.
"Denzel," she said quietly.
He looked at her.
"Don’t."
There was something in her voice that made him understand.
This wasn’t the time to ask how the old man knew his name.
It was the time to leave.
Denzel turned away.
The Knight pulled him forward.
They stepped out of the alley.
Neither of them spoke.
They made it halfway down the street before Denzel finally broke the silence.
"Who was that?"
The Knight kept walking.
"Someone we shouldn’t have met."
"That’s not an answer."
"It’s the only one you’re getting right now."
Denzel frowned.
"You knew him."
"No."
"You reacted like you knew him."
She stopped walking.
Denzel stopped beside her.
The Knight looked at him.
"I know of him."
"That’s different."
"Very."
"Then tell me."
Her eyes shifted toward the alley behind them.
"Not here."
Denzel followed her gaze.
The street was empty.
The old man hadn’t followed.
At least, not visibly.
The Knight looked back at him.
"We need to keep moving."
Denzel stared at her for another second.
Then nodded.
They continued.
Three steps.
Four.
Five.
The Knight suddenly stopped.
Denzel almost walked into her.
"What?"
She didn’t answer.
Her eyes were fixed ahead.
Then she slowly turned toward him.
"Run."
Denzel blinked.
"What?"
"Run."
Her voice was low.Controlled.But there was no hesitation in it.