The palace was quiet.
Not the peaceful kind of quiet.
The kind that watched back.
Inside his room, the lantern burned steadily on the table.
Its flame swayed lightly.
…flick… …flick…
Shadows stretched across the walls, slow and uneven.
Rudura sat in front of it.
Still.
Silent.
On the table
Two things lay side by side.
A broken piece of metal.
And a strip of dark cloth.
He didn't touch them immediately.
Just looked.
Letting the silence settle around him.
Letting his thoughts organize.
Then
His fingers moved.
He picked up the metal piece first.
Cold.
Thin.
Precise.
He turned it slowly between his fingers.
tch… tch…
The faint sound of metal brushing against his nails echoed softly in the room.
"…Too clean."
He murmured under his breath.
The edges weren't rough.
No irregular bends.
No signs of force.
This wasn't something that broke by accident.
It snapped under pressure
But it had been designed to handle that pressure.
Rudura leaned forward slightly.
The lantern light reflected along the edge of the metal.
Sharp.
Refined.
He compared it in his mind.
Palace locks.
Heavy.
Simple.
Made to resist brute force.
But this…
"…This wasn't made for just one lock."
His eyes narrowed.
"This was made to open many."
That meant
Experience.
Practice.
Precision.
Not a random intruder.
Not a desperate thief.
Someone trained.
Someone who had done this before.
Many times.
Rudura placed the metal piece back down carefully.
Then picked up the cloth.
It was darker than it first appeared.
Not pure black.
Faded.
Worn.
He rubbed it between his fingers.
Rough on the outside.
But
He flipped it.
Smoother inside.
Lined.
Designed for comfort.
Or insulation.
He pressed it lightly between his fingers.
Dense weave.
Strong threads.
Not something cheaply made.
Not something local.
He brought it closer.
Paused.
Then
He inhaled slightly.
A faint scent.
Not perfume.
Not smoke.
Something else.
"…Oil."
Very faint.
Mixed with something dry.
Dust.
Travel dust.
His eyes sharpened.
"…Not palace."
Not royal.
Not local.
Someone who traveled.
Or someone who didn't belong.
Rudura leaned back slightly.
His fingers tightened around the cloth.
Then loosened again.
He placed it next to the metal piece.
Side by side.
He stared at them.
And slowly
The pieces began to connect.
The intruder had skill.
The intruder had tools.
The intruder had timing.
The guards were moved.
The corridor was cleared.
Access was created.
Everything was precise.
Everything was controlled.
And yet
Nothing was taken.
Rudura's fingers tapped lightly against the table.
tap… tap… tap…
Then stopped.
"…No."
He shook his head slightly.
"If the book was the goal…"
His eyes darkened.
"…it would already be gone."
Silence.
Heavy.
Clear.
Then
"…So it's not the priority."
The words settled in the room like something solid.
Not a guess.
Not instinct.
A conclusion.
Rudura leaned forward again.
His gaze sharpened.
"…Then why come?"
He replayed it in his mind.
The sound.
The movement.
The shadow.
The voice.
The presence.
The control.
Then
The mistake.
Or was it a mistake?
The broken lockpick.
The cloth.
Left behind.
Too visible.
Too obvious.
Rudura's eyes narrowed.
"…No."
Not a mistake.
"…A trace."
A test.
He stood up slowly.
The chair scraped lightly against the floor.
krr…
He walked toward the window.
Cold air slipped through the narrow gap.
He didn't react.
His mind was already somewhere else.
"…He came to prepare."
Not to steal.
Not yet.
To measure.
To observe.
To confirm.
Rudura's hand rested lightly against the cold stone wall.
"…He was checking us."
Checking the guards.
Checking the routes.
Checking the response time.
Checking the locks.
Checking everything.
A slow breath escaped him.
"…So the real move hasn't happened yet."
Morning came slower than usual.
Or maybe it just felt that way.
The palace carried the same quiet tension.
But now
Rudura understood why.
He walked through the corridor.
tap… tap… tap…
Guards stood straighter today.
But their eyes moved more.
Watching.
Not just protecting.
Watching.
Rudura passed the private library.
His gaze didn't linger long.
But he counted.
Seven guards.
Not six.
Seven.
The pattern had changed again.
They're reacting.
But reacting to what they didn't fully understand.
Just like before.
Training grounds.
Cold air.
Empty space.
Hooooosh…
Rudura didn't draw his sword.
Instead
He stood still.
Eyes closed.
Listening.
Wind direction.
Footsteps.
Cloth movement.
Breath patterns.
Everything.
Malavatas stood behind him.
Watching.
Silent.
After a moment
"You're not swinging today."
Rudura didn't open his eyes.
"…There's no point."
Malavatas stepped closer.
"And why is that?"
Rudura spoke calmly.
"…Because strength won't help me understand this."
Silence.
Then
Malavatas smiled faintly.
"Good."
Rudura opened his eyes.
Turned slightly.
"He didn't come to steal."
Malavatas didn't react.
"He came to prepare."
Still no reaction.
Rudura stepped forward.
"The lockpick. The cloth. The timing. The guards being moved."
His voice stayed steady.
"…If the book was the goal, it would already be gone."
A pause.
Then
"It's not the priority."
This time
Malavatas's gaze sharpened.
Not surprised.
Not impressed.
Just… attentive.
"…And what makes you so certain?"
Rudura held his gaze.
"He left."
A simple answer.
Heavy meaning.
"If the goal was the book… he wouldn't have left."
Silence stretched.
Cold wind passed between them.
Hooo…
Then
Malavatas exhaled slowly.
"…You're starting to see the board."
Not confirmation.
Not denial.
But enough.
Rudura's eyes narrowed slightly.
"…Then there are other pieces."
Malavatas turned away.
"Of course there are."
He began walking.
Then stopped.
Without turning back
"In a place like this…"
A pause.
"…nothing valuable stands alone."
Rudura stood still.
Those words settled deep.
Not just the book.
Not just one target.
Multiple.
Connected.
Hidden.
That night
Rudura didn't rush.
Didn't chase.
Didn't react blindly.
He prepared.
The lantern in his hand again.
But steadier now.
His steps quieter.
More controlled.
He didn't go directly to the library.
Instead
He stayed at a distance.
Watching.
Observing.
Counting.
Guard movements.
Step intervals.
Blind spots.
He leaned slightly against a pillar.
Half-hidden.
Silent.
The lantern dimmed slightly.
He adjusted it.
Careful.
No sudden movement.
Time passed.
Slow.
Measured.
Then
Something shifted.
One guard turned too early.
Another adjusted too late.
A small gap formed.
Just for a moment.
Rudura didn't move.
Didn't follow.
He just watched.
And in that moment
A shadow slipped across the far wall.
Fast.
Controlled.
Gone.
Rudura's eyes sharpened.
But he stayed still.
"…So you're still testing."
No answer.
Only silence.
Later
Back in his room
Rudura placed the lockpick and cloth back on the table.
He looked at them again.
But this time
Differently.
Not as clues.
But as signs.
Proof.
He sat down slowly.
The lantern flickered again.
…flick… …flick…
His voice was quiet.
Calm.
Certain.
"You weren't trying to steal…"
A pause.
His fingers rested lightly on the metal piece.
"…you were measuring us."
His gaze lifted.
Toward the direction of the palace.
Toward everything hidden within it.
"…So what are you really after?"
Silence answered him.
But it didn't feel empty anymore.
It felt… waiting.
Far beyond his room
In a darker corridor
A figure moved.
Slow.
Silent.
Unseen.
And for a brief moment
He stopped,
As if listening.
Then
A faint smile.
"…He's thinking."
And just like that
He disappeared again.
Back in his room
Rudura leaned back slightly.
Eyes steady.
Mind sharp.
The game wasn't starting.
It had already started.
And now
He finally understood that.
(Continued in Chapter 50)