The market smelled like roasted beans, wet stone and too many bodies squeezed into one place. Kael walked through the crowd with his hood low, hands loose at his sides, eyes moving without looking like they were moving. He kept pace with normal life, but inside, everything was tight. His ribs, his jaw, even his heartbeat felt like a fist waiting to close.He came here for one reason.Information.And to show his face just enough to stir the right whispers.Taren walked beside him, chewing on a piece of sweet bread he pretended he did not enjoy. “Tell me again why we are here,” he asked.Kael did not answer right away. He watched a girl run past with a basket of fish. A mother calling after her. A baker shoving a tray of hot rolls into the air. Normal. Lazy. Safe. The kind of peace Kael knew never lasted.When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet. “Someone is leaking names. Someone close.”Taren’s smile dropped. “And you think they are meeting here.”“I think they feel brave,” Kael sa

Taren shut the door behind them, sliding the bolt into place. The sound echoed through the storage shed like a final nail in someone’s coffin.The spy sat tied to a chair in the middle of the room.He wasn’t bleeding.Kael had made sure of that.Pain made people say anything.Fear made them lie.Truth came slower, when a man realized silence wouldn’t save him.His name was Rolan. Young. Jumpy. Eyes darting around like a trapped rabbit. He’d been caught near the alleys behind the burned market, tailing a courier Kael already suspected.Kael crouched in front of him. No threats. No weapon. Just presence.Presence was enough.Rolan swallowed hard. “I already told you… I’m just a messenger.”Kael shook his head. “Messengers don’t hide behind burning shops.”Rolan’s jaw clenched. “I didn’t hide. I was… I was waiting.”“For who?”He looked away.Kael leaned in a little. “I’m not here to hurt you. I just want the truth. The real one. The one you’ve been choking on since we dragged you in her

Kael stood on the roof of a half-ruined building, looking over the western quarter. Fires still burned from the market, black smoke curling into the gray sky. Below, the council’s men moved like ants, clearing survivors, gathering what little had survived.Kael felt his chest tighten. He had seen destruction before, but this was different. This was personal. Every flame reminded him of the gold lost, every scream a reminder that the council would not stop until they controlled everything.“Kael,” Seris said, voice low but steady. She leaned beside him, her hands tight around her staff. “They’ll be ready for the next move. They know the market was just a distraction.”He did not answer at once. His eyes followed a patrol moving along the main street. Soldiers in black armor, shields glinting, spears ready. They were organized, relentless, and ruthless. Kael could feel the tension in the air. Every shadow could hide an ambush. Every corner could hold a traitor.“They’re stronger than I

The city was quiet now, but the calm felt wrong. Too clean, too still. Kael moved through the alleys with Daren and Seris, every step measured, every shadow a potential threat. The market fire had died down, leaving ash and the scent of burnt wood drifting on the wind. He could hear distant shouts, the sound of patrols regrouping. The council was not idle. They never were. Daren’s boots made soft claps against the cobblestones. “Kael,” he said quietly, voice tight. “What happens now? They’ll send more, won’t they?” Kael’s hands tightened around the hilt of his blade. “Yes. And we’ll meet them.” He didn’t look at Daren. His eyes scanned the rooftops, the windows, the corners where someone could be watching. “They think the council can just issue orders and everything bends to them. But the chain of command is fragile. One crack, and it all falls apart.” Seris followed silently, her cloak brushing the ground. She never needed to speak to remind him she was there, that she understoo

Daren’s arm throbbed from the wound he’d received the night before. He walked carefully, head down, eyes darting to every shadow. Kael could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers curled around the dagger as if holding it tighter might somehow make the world safer.“You need to stop gripping that like it’s going to save you,” Kael said quietly, voice steady but sharp. “Your weapon will not protect you from poor planning. Only your mind will.”Daren flinched but nodded. “I… I will.” His voice wavered, betraying the fatigue and fear he had barely slept through.Seris glanced at him from the side. “He’s shaken,” she said, her tone clipped. “You’re pushing him too hard. He’s not ready for another fight yet.”Kael did not respond immediately. He observed Daren closely. He knew Seris was right, but the council had already tested Daren’s limits, and he had survived. Kael had no doubt that Daren could endure, but endurance alone was not enough. He had to be precise, aware, and