Frank crouched in the shadow of the northern wall, his eyes fixed on the old watchtower. Its windows were dark, but he could feel the presence inside—calculated, patient, aware. Leo trembled beside him, gripping his stick tightly.
"Are we really doing this?" Leo whispered.
Frank nodded. "Yes. We need information, and this is the best chance we have. But stay alert. One wrong move, and we could walk straight into a trap."
They approached silently, sticking to the crumbling walls and patches of overgrown grass. Every step was measured, every sound analyzed. Frank noticed a loose board near the entrance. He carefully pushed it aside and peered in.
Inside, the watchtower was empty—or at least it seemed that way. The shadows twisted unnaturally, and the faint scent of smoke lingered in the air. On the floor, he spotted more black fabric, small scraps that confirmed the cloaks from the ambushes.
"Look," Frank whispered, pointing to the fabric. "They've been here recently. Someone is using this as a base."
Leo's eyes widened. "Should we go inside?"
Frank shook his head. "Not yet. First, we need to understand the layout. They might have set traps, or worse… they might be waiting for us."
Frank examined the ground carefully, noticing faint scratches and disturbed dust. A narrow stairway spiraled upward to the top of the tower. At the top, he could make out silhouettes moving—deliberate, slow, like they were guarding something important.
"This is it," Frank said. "We watch, we learn, and we leave. No unnecessary risks."
They climbed slowly, sticking to shadows, moving quietly like ghosts. At the top, Frank peered over the edge of the tower.
Below, the town spread out in the morning light, unaware of the danger lurking above. And on the far rooftop, in the shadow beyond the watchtower, he saw the figure again—tall, cloaked, observing, waiting.
Frank clenched his fists. "There's more to this than we thought. Whoever that is… they know us, and they're planning something big."
Leo swallowed hard. "Then we need to stop them?"
"Yes," Frank said firmly. "But first, we learn what they're capable of. And then… we prepare."
The wind whispered through the broken windows of the watchtower, carrying the faintest echo of a voice Frank didn't recognize:
"There he stands… and now he climbs."