The journey to Greyhaven took four intense hours of constant vigilance. Despite Elara's lack of magic, Kaelen moved with practiced grace and speed. She struggled to keep up, but the adrenaline of being hunted by an as-yet-unborn plot kept her moving. She realized Kaelen was testing her endurance.
As they walked, Kaelen, now hidden beneath a deep hood that shadowed his sharp features, spoke sparingly, confirming key future events. "Tell me the immediate priorities. Where does Valerius secure his first major source of revenue before the tournament?"
"The Western Trade Treaty," Elara replied, adjusting her thin silver gown which was now heavily snagged. "He secretly arranges the trade of illegal, high-grade elemental metals, specifically Thunder Ore, through a minor port city, Port Seraph. The revenue is used to bribe three key council members before the Royal Succession Vote."
"Thunder Ore," Kaelen repeated, his voice laced with venom. "A raw material forbidden under the Grand Collegium laws. Valerius always loved shortcuts."
By the time they reached the outskirts of Greyhaven, the sun was sinking, casting the rugged, stone settlement in deep purple and grey shadows. The town was exactly as described in the novel's later sections—a grimy, sprawling hub for mercenaries, minor guilds, and smugglers, far enough from the capital to operate without the Crown's immediate oversight.
Kaelen led Elara down a narrow alleyway toward a secluded lodge marked only by a stylized, black iron lantern. Once inside the small, dark room, he activated a simple privacy rune, the edges of the doorway shimmering faintly with Blue Rank energy.
"First, your appearance," Kaelen stated, assessing her silver dress with cold distaste. "The sight of that material suggests you are either a rare spirit or a fool. Neither is useful."
He produced a plain, dark woolen cloak and a simple tunic from a locked compartment within the wall. Elara quickly changed, feeling instantly more grounded.
"Now, your identity," Kaelen continued, his eyes meeting hers. "In this world, magic is everything. A Rankless outsider with no records is a criminal anomaly. I will use a simple illusion rune to create a minor Green Level signature around you—enough to deter minor inquiries, but not enough to draw the attention of the Collegium Masters."
He pressed a single, dark iron medallion into her palm. "You are Elara of the Southern Exiles. A minor healer, too poor to afford proper schooling, but loyal to the Obsidian Line. Memorize it."
Elara nodded, tucking the medallion into the tunic. She realized how reliant she was on his power.
"Kaelen," she started, hesitating, "You said you achieved Blue Level Peak through forbidden methods. You were only Green Rank at this time in the book. What did you sacrifice to gain three years of power?"
He paused, stacking the discarded silver dress into a tight bundle, which he then incinerated with a controlled flash of dark Aether. The coldness in his eyes intensified.
"The man you read about—the gentle, passive scholar—is gone. He died on the block," Kaelen said, his voice flat. "To reach this rank, I needed resources and zero risk of future betrayal. In the original timeline, my mentor, Archmage Serin, was secretly reporting my activities to Prince Valerius's faction. I knew this, thanks to your cursed knowledge."
Elara felt a chill that had nothing to do with the air.
"And what did you do?"
"I gave him precisely the information he needed to secure a minor political victory for Valerius six months ago," Kaelen explained calmly. "Valerius, pleased with the intelligence, granted Serin a small, lucrative estate near the capital. Serin moved immediately, happy to sell his loyalty. He is safe and wealthy, but his proximity to the capital means he is now an enemy I can monitor, not a trusted friend I must endure."
Elara swallowed. He hadn't killed the mentor, but he had used his foreknowledge to subtly exile and compromise a man he once trusted. This Kaelen operated on a level of cold, protective strategy she hadn't anticipated.
"So, the price of your power was calculated risk and the sacrifice of misplaced loyalty," she summarized.
"The price of my second life is the shedding of my first life's weakness," Kaelen corrected, his gaze unwavering. "Now, we focus on the Western Trade Treaty. If Valerius secures that illegal Thunder Ore, he gets the Council votes he needs to move his father, the King, toward abdication. We have less than a week to intercept that shipment at Port Seraph."
He unrolled a crude map of Eldoria on a worn table.
"The King's Road is heavily guarded. We must move through the Ironwood Gap to reach the port in time. Your knowledge is vital: which of Valerius's mid-level captains is transporting the ore?"
Elara leaned over the map, pointing to a small, coastal town. "It's Captain Borin. He's loyal to Valerius but chronically overconfident and prone to drinking. The original plot mentioned that he always takes a private detour through the abandoned Fortress of the Broken Guard to show off his goods to local smugglers before arriving at the main port. We meet him there."
A predatory light sparked in Kaelen's eyes. "Overconfidence is a flaw I can exploit. We leave at dawn. You will observe, and I will act. Get some rest, Elara. We have a timeline to unweave."