The voice was gone.

  Lucius stood frozen, his gladius gripped so tightly that his knuckles burned. The battlefield raged on, but for him, the world had stopped.

  Had he imagined it? A hallucination brought on by exhaustion?

  No.

  His system had reacted. The messages, the warnings—those had been real.

  But the whisper…

  “Who are you?”

  Lucius forced himself to breathe. Now wasn’t the time to unravel whatever had just happened. He was still alive. And the warlord—whoever, whatever he was—hadn’t seen him.

  Yet.

  Lucius exhaled. The nausea faded. The world steadied.

  He was hidden again.

  For now.

  ?

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  The Blind and the Hidden

  The fighting was still fierce.

  Lucius pushed forward, falling back into the chaotic flow of the battlefield. His body ached, but the system’s passive boosts kept him moving.

  Men crashed around him, steel meeting steel, screams punctuated by the sickening crunch of breaking bone. A Parthian rider surged forward, his curved sword raised—

  Lucius stepped into his blind spot.

  His gladius flashed.

  The rider gurgled, eyes wide with shock as Lucius’ blade punched through his side. He slumped from the saddle before he could even process what had happened.

  Lucius pulled his sword free and turned—

  —and nearly collided with Marcus.

  His friend’s face was twisted with exhaustion, his armor splattered with blood, his breath ragged. He was searching the battlefield, eyes scanning frantically—as if looking for something.

  Or someone.

  Lucius’ stomach dropped.

  “Marcus… can’t see me.”

  His system’s adjustments—it had hidden him too well.

  Lucius reached out, fingers brushing Marcus’ shoulder—

  Marcus flinched violently, spinning with his sword raised, eyes wild.

  Lucius jerked back.

  For a fraction of a second, his friend looked right through him.

  Then—

  Marcus’ expression shifted.

  His eyes finally locked onto Lucius. Confusion flickered across his face—a half-second of hesitation, as if something had just clicked into place.

  Then he swore. “Where the hell have you been?!”

  Lucius hesitated. How do I even answer that?

  Before he could speak, a horn blared across the battlefield.

  A call to regroup.

  The battle wasn’t over—but something had changed.

  Lucius turned toward the warlord, still watching from the far end of the battlefield. His presence was unchanged, still an ominous figure against the burning night.

  But for the first time, Lucius felt a new unease creeping into his bones.

  Not fear.

  Something worse.

  The uncertainty of knowing that his system—his greatest strength—was beginning to behave in ways even it couldn’t predict.