Clive moved stealthily through the dense foliage surrounding Dunan Castle, his sharp eyes scanning the shadows for any signs of lurking enemies. The moonlight filtered through the canopy, casting a silvery glow on the forest floor, but Clive’s senses remained on high alert. Each step was deliberate and quiet. The weight of his duty pressed heavily upon him as he meticulously scouted the area, ensuring the safety of the headquarters and its inhabitants.

He suddenly heard the sharp crack of a twig snapping nearby, the sound cutting through the stillness of the night. Clive’s body tensed, his hand instinctively moving to his rifle. He turned his head slightly, eyes narrowing as he focused on the bush from where the sound had emanated. The forest seemed to hold its breath, the silence now pregnant with the possibility of danger. Clive crouched lower, muscles coiled and ready, waiting to see what — or who — would emerge from the shadows.