Lanling's rage simmered beneath the surface, even as Haruki held him in a comforting embrace. The instinctive fear that always clawed at him when Alba's name arose was now drowned beneath an overwhelming desire to obliterate the man, to erase every last trace of his existence.
It was clear their lives hadn't been the target. The strike had been precise, cutting only Haruki's cheek. Lanling quickly assumed Alba was behind it, and their aim had been Haruki's blood.
His mind spiraled with possibilities, each one more troubling than the last. Yet none of his guesses felt absolute, leaving him with only uncertainty and a growing unease.
In the end, caught in his paranoid state, he could only focus on casting a long-lasting invisible shield—one that would retaliate fiercely if struck.
A faint white glow briefly surrounded their bodies before vanishing, as though Lanling had done nothing at all. Afterward, they settled onto the bed, trying to rest.
