Page 33 of Knox
He caught snippets of conversations, snatches of fear, whispers of awe, and, in the emotions of the crowd, a growing undercurrent of something more intense, something that twisted in his gut like a cold, familiar hunger. It was the energy of belief, of blind faith, of a desperate yearning for a hero.
Was that what Caelen wanted?
Knox pushed through the chaos onto the bridge. The air crackled with a strange energy, a mixture of residual magic and the raw fear emanating from the gathered crowd.
And then he saw him.
Caelen stood on the edge of the broken bridge. His white hair flowed in the wind, his green eyes glowed with an unsettling intensity, and shadows danced around him like obedient serpents. He was speaking, his voice amplified by magic, reaching the ears of everyone present.
"I have come here to save you. You have nothing to fear."
"Stop your lies, Shadow King!" Knox bellowed, drawing his enemy’s attention.
Caelen turned to him with a slow, unconcerned smile. "Lies?" he asked as if they were having a casual conversation. "But I’m not lying, old friend. I’m making use of the opportunities this new world offers me. I’m reshaping myself, helping these people."
Knox turned to the crowd. "Don’t believe him! He’s a true monster!"
"He saved my baby’s life!" a woman yelled back at Knox. "What have you done to help?"
Knox hesitated, caught off guard by the raw emotion in her voice. His gaze flicked to the child in her arms, its small face nestled against her shoulder. The sight tugged at something deep within him.
Was he the bad guy here?
No, Gods no. He needed to get a grip on himself.
Taking a step forward, he raised his hands to placate the crowd. "You don’t understand. Caelen is not here to help you. He’s manipulating you for his own gain."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd, a mix of confusion and skepticism. Knox pressed on. He had to make them see. "He’s amaster of deceit. In my world, he has destroyed entire realms, left families shattered, lives ruined. I don’t know what kind of act he’s putting on, but he’s not your savior."
A man near the front scoffed. "And we’re supposed to believe you? Some cosplayer spouting nonsense?"
Knox clenched his jaw, feeling his grip on the situation slipping. "Look at him! Look at the shadows that cling to him! Does that seem like someone who means well?"
But his words were swallowed by a growing cacophony of disbelief and anger. The crowd’s mood shifted from wary curiosity to outright hostility. Shouts and jeers rose around him, drowning out his voice.
Caelen’s eyes glowed brighter. He stepped forward with a mournful expression painted across his features. "It pains me," he began, his voice carrying effortlessly over the noise, "that even here, in this new world where I’ve come to seek redemption and a chance to do good, there are those who cannot see past their hatred."
Knox’s stomach twisted. Was he supposed to believe this?
"I only want to make this world a better place," Caelen continued with a beatific smile. "Now that I have been given the chance, I want to use my powers to bring peace where there was chaos, to heal where there was hurt. But some cannot let go of old grudges and seek only to push me back into the role of a villain."
The crowd’s hostility toward Knox intensified as they absorbed Caelen’s words. He could feel their collective emotion shifting like a tide turning against him.
Desperation clawed at Knox’s insides.
They were going to attack. He knew it before the first rock sailed past his head, narrowly missing him.
His heart pounded in his chest, the primal urge to fight back nearly overwhelming. But he couldn’t. These people were innocent, manipulated by the Shadow King. His insidious influence had turned these innocent bystanders into unwitting soldiers.
Knox felt the first blow land on his back, a sharp pain radiating through his spine. He spun around to see an older man wielding a metal rod, eyes wild with anger.
"Stop!" Knox shouted, but his voice was lost in the din of the crowd’s fury. A bottle shattered near his feet, glass shards scattering across the pavement.
He had no choice. Drawing upon the energy he’d siphoned from Adrian, he wove patterns in the air with his fingers. His magic responded sluggishly, still weakened but present enough to obey his will.
Illusions began to take shape around him. Shadows peeled away from the edges of reality, forming vague, menacing shapes that prowled through the crowd.
A woman screamed as one of the shadowy figures lunged at her. She swung her purse wildly, connecting with nothing but air. Another man fell to the ground, grappling with an invisible enemy that only he could see.
