On the outskirts of Minas Tirith Port, there was a heavily guarded military camp.
This was the training ground for the new recruits of the Grey Marsh Territory. The packed earth was covered with wooden stakes and sandbags, and young soldiers were training, drenched in sweat.
In a remote corner of the training ground, however, the atmosphere was distinctly different.
Kael held a blunt training sword, his gaze fixed on the young girl opposite him.
Since returning from the Southern Islands, Xiaolan was like a different person. She was still quiet and would instinctively lower her head when she saw strangers, but the former confusion in her eyes had been replaced. She had found her reason to fight: protection.
"Focus, Xiaolan," Kael said in a steady voice. "An assassin's fight isn't about clashing strength; it's a gamble on timing. Your enemy is always the next moment."
