The sun rose over Eldros, but the city no longer felt calm.
Whispers had grown louder, more insistent. Merchants hesitated in their trades, guards paused in their patrols, and even the children's laughter carried an edge of uncertainty. The Watcher's influence had reached far, bending perceptions quietly but effectively.
Inside the temple, panic was reaching a breaking point.
"We cannot ignore him any longer," one elder said, voice trembling. "His presence is everywhere, and our authority is slipping."
Another elder slammed a hand against the table. "He shapes the city without appearing. He grows followers from nothing. If we do not act, he will control Eldros before we even understand him."
The decision was made. A small contingent of temple enforcers—skilled, observant, and ruthless—was to track, confront, and eliminate the Watcher.
Arin observed this from the shadows. He had anticipated it. Patience had been his ally, but now he would allow the first test of his influence on a larger scale.
Riven reported quickly, "They are moving tonight, five men strong. They search the city, asking questions, probing the market and alleys."
Arin's eyes glimmered faintly in the dim light. "Good. Let them move. They are walking into my design."
By nightfall, the enforcers arrived near Kael's area of operation. The merchant, carefully guided by Arin, noticed them and subtly shifted conversations, sowing hesitation and misdirection. Guards looked in one direction, merchants acted nervously, and the enforcers grew frustrated.
Authority +28
Arin watched from above, a calm observer. The enforcers could not see the patterns unfolding around them. Every action, every misstep, every fearful glance of the people was feeding Arin's growing power.
Finally, the leader of the enforcers shouted in frustration. "He cannot hide here! The people must be lying, or bewitched!"
Arin's lips curved into a faint smile. That was exactly what he wanted. Confusion, fear, and the illusion of inevitability—these were stronger than any sword.
Kael, standing in the marketplace, subtly guided the citizens' responses. Small gestures, whispered questions, minor delays—all invisible moves, yet they determined the enforcers' next steps. Within hours, the temple's contingent left the area, exhausted, misled, and more aware of their inability than ever before.
Riven approached Arin, awe in his eyes. "They couldn't find you… not even close. How do you do it?"
Arin's voice was calm, almost a whisper. "I do not move among them. I move within them. Influence does not require confrontation; it requires perception, patience, and timing. They acted as I allowed them to, and in doing so, they built the proof of my presence without knowing it."
The Veiled Doctrine's reach expands.
The city slept uneasily that night, unaware that the Watcher had not only survived the temple's first attempt but had subtly guided them into failure.
Silence, once empty, now carried weight. And in that weight, authority grew stronger.