In a lavish dining hall filled with the soft hum of noble chatter and the clinking of fine silverware, a young, handsome man sat across from a wealthy woman draped in luxurious fabrics. His golden hair shimmered under the candlelight, and his sharp features carried an air of youthful charm—an illusion, carefully crafted and maintained.

  Frid smiled, his fingers lightly tracing the rim of his glass. The rich lady before him, Lady Valmira, blushed under his gaze. He had met her only days ago, yet she was already eager to finance his "scholarly endeavors," believing him to be a rising historian fascinated by ancient magic.

  "Your knowledge is astounding," Valmira gushed, swirling the wine in her glass. "To think that magic, in its current form, was once a deadly force to mankind. It’s a wonder how we have survived."

  Frid gave a measured nod, sipping his own wine while maintaining a look of intellectual intrigue. "Indeed," he said, "The True Dragon Era was a time of untamed power. Magic was so dense that it poisoned the weak, shaping history through extinction and adaptation. But we humans, resilient as we are, found ways to endure… and to control it."

  Valmira leaned forward, enraptured. "And you believe there's more to uncover?"

  Frid exhaled softly, feigning a look of distant longing. "Oh, my lady, there is always more. Magic has shaped the world in ways we scarcely understand. Some say immortality was once achievable before it was lost to time." He paused, letting the weight of his words settle. "Imagine if such knowledge were reclaimed."

  Her eyes widened. Hook, line, and sinker.

  Frid had used this act many times before. Nobles loved stories of lost power and forgotten greatness. He played on their curiosity, feeding them just enough mystery to keep them invested. More funds meant more resources for his research.

  However, behind his mask of charm, Frid’s mind remained sharp. He never forgot the danger that lurked in every shadow. The Execution Squad from the Kingdom of Tala was still hunting him, and though his illusion magic kept his true identity hidden, he knew better than to grow complacent.

  His fingers twitched beneath the table, an old habit born from years of running. He always had an escape route planned.

  Just then, a shift in the atmosphere caught his attention.

  Across the hall, a hooded figure entered, their movements precise and deliberate. Frid’s illusion held, but his instincts screamed caution. Was it a mere traveler—or something more?

  He took another sip of wine, hiding his growing unease. If the Execution Squad was near, he'd need to vanish before dessert.

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  For now, however, the masquerade continued.

  Frid maintained his charming smile as he continued his conversation with Lady Valmira, but his mind had already begun analyzing the situation. Who was the hooded figure? Was it just a wary traveler—or had someone finally caught his scent?

  He casually shifted in his seat, adjusting his posture to make himself appear even more relaxed. If he showed any signs of tension, it would raise suspicion. He needed to confirm the nature of the threat first.

  The noblewoman across from him continued speaking, seemingly oblivious to the sudden shift in his demeanor. "I've always found it fascinating how magic has shaped the world," she said, leaning in slightly. "Especially the idea that it once made men gods—or monsters."

  Frid smirked. "Ah, yes. Power beyond mortal comprehension." He twirled the stem of his wine glass between his fingers, watching as the hooded figure took a seat at the far end of the dining hall. Close enough to observe, but not so close as to draw immediate attention.

  His gut told him it wasn’t a coincidence. Execution Squad? No, they weren’t so subtle. If they had found him, they'd have already acted. This was different.

  "Tell me, my lady," Frid continued, keeping his tone light. "Do you believe that history is written only by victors, or do you think some knowledge is intentionally erased?"

  Lady Valmira tilted her head, intrigued by the shift in conversation. "Are you suggesting that there are truths deliberately hidden from us?"

  "Perhaps." Frid leaned forward slightly. "Perhaps the knowledge we lost wasn’t due to time, but by design. What if there were forces that ensured humanity remained… limited?"

  The noblewoman let out a soft gasp. "That would be—"

  A sudden movement from the corner of his eye forced Frid to stop mid-sentence.

  The hooded figure was staring at him. Directly.

  For a brief second, Frid felt something off—a subtle but undeniable shift in the air. It wasn't an outright attack, but something probing, testing. A presence pressing against his illusion.

  A mage.

  Frid carefully concealed his reaction, keeping his expression neutral. Whoever this person was, they were using magic. And worse, they were actively searching for something.

  He exhaled through his nose, keeping his voice smooth and steady. "Apologies, my lady. I was briefly lost in thought."

  Lady Valmira chuckled. "You truly are a scholar at heart."

  He flashed her an apologetic smile before subtly shifting his posture, readying himself. If the illusion was compromised, he needed an escape route.

  The servers were still moving in and out of the dining hall. The exit was across the room, past a few occupied tables. Not ideal, but manageable.

  He casually reached for his fork, pretending to toy with it while using the movement to brush his fingers against the edge of his coat. The moment the figure made a move, he’d be gone.

  Then, just as quickly as it had begun, the sensation vanished. The hooded figure shifted their gaze away, reaching for a cup of tea as if nothing had happened.

  Frid took a slow, measured breath. A test? A warning? Or perhaps just a passing curiosity?

  He couldn't be sure. But one thing was certain—he had been noticed.

  This town was no longer safe.

  He would have to leave soon.

  Still, Frid forced himself to remain in his seat, finishing his conversation with Lady Valmira. Rushing out would only confirm suspicion.

  He'd give it an hour, maybe two, before slipping away into the night.

  For now, the masquerade continued. But the hunt had begun.