The shadow assassin stared at the gaping hole in his chest as he collapsed, his body hitting the quiet street with a dull, final thud. What just happened? The question echoed in everyone's mind.
Meyra's breath caught in her throat, her lips parting slightly. How is he this strong? That night he was nothing more than a mortal… or was he hiding his strength all along? Disbelief rippled through her, a silent tension clinging to her features.
Kaelvir stood at the center of it all, looking less like a man and more like a demon. His mask glimmered faintly under the sunlight, and in his hand pulsed a still-beating heart. With a casual squeeze, he crushed it, letting the blood drip down and pool at his feet.
Behind him, Dorian's mind unraveled as he witnessed the scene. His thoughts spiraled into chaos. That was a Soulforge expert—killed so easily? Who is this demon? Since when did the Kaevor clan have such a terrifying expert in their ranks?
Fear clawed through his chest as Kaelvir turned his golden eyes on him. Those masked eyes flickered once, and then Kaelvir's figure vanished from where he stood. A heartbeat later, he appeared right beside Dorian.
Terror ripped through him. His legs failed, and he collapsed, scrambling backward like a cornered animal. His voice cracked as he screamed, "You—demon! Don't come near me! What… what are you trying to do? Do you know who I am? If you kill me, my clan won't let you off! You'll be hunted down, everyone close to you will suffer—tortured and killed!"
Kaelvir paused at those words.
From within, Nythra sneered, her cold voice brushing against his thoughts. If it were anyone else, perhaps that threat would matter. But not Master.
"Master," she urged, "let me end this ant once and for all."
Kaelvir's reply was firm. No. Not yet. I want to interrogate him myself. I need to know why he's so confident, why he acts without fear of consequence.
Indeed, the thought had plagued him since arriving in Dreamtide City. Why did Dorian behave like he was untouchable? Why dare offend even Meyra, the precious jewel of the Kaevor clan? Did the Zaryth clan's backing truly give him such confidence, or was something else hidden?
Kaelvir seized back control as Nythra slipped into the dream sea. His mask still clung to his face, hair whipping slightly in the wind as he stalked toward the panicked Dorian.
"Stay back!" Dorian's voice broke with fear, but his retreat was useless. Kaelvir blocked his path, bending down until his golden eyes met Dorian's trembling ones.
"I can let you live," Kaelvir said coldly, "if you answer me truthfully. Who sent you?"
Dorian froze, but when Kaelvir did not strike him immediately, a glimmer of confidence returned. His lips twisted into a desperate smirk. "Nobody. But if you let me go and help me kill that maid, I'll reward you handsomely. I'll give you cultivation resources beyond imagination."
His voice carried assurance. There was no emblem, no mark on Kaelvir's robe linking him to the Kaevor clan. To Dorian, that could only mean one thing: a lone cultivator. And lone cultivators could never resist endless resources and backing.
Not only that—Kaelvir's techniques were strange, unfamiliar to Dreamtide City. To Dorian, that confirmed it. He's not affiliated with anyone. He will readily accept.
The lone cultivators in the watching crowd stirred, envy gnawing at them. If only they were in Kaelvir's position, they would accept such an offer in a heartbeat.
But Kaelvir's silence stretched, the air heavy with tension. Dorian sneered inwardly. He's hesitating. I knew it—no cultivator can resist my offer.
Kaelvir's golden gaze bored into him. A ruthless glint flickered in his eyes. If I ever accepted that offer, I would be digging my own grave. Cunning snake. As expected from the Zaryth clan. But too bad you met me.
His voice finally cut through the silence. "I'll ask you once more. Did anyone send you?"
Dorian's eyes widened in disbelief. "You refused? Was my offer not good enough?"
Kaelvir sighed, disappointment dripping from his tone. "Seems our little chat ends here. In your next life, try to be better."
True fear struck Dorian then. His heart pounded violently as he tried to scramble away. "Wait! Did the Zaryth clan already make you an offer? I'll double it—no, triple it! Just name your price!"
Kaelvir halted, a glint flashing in his eyes. "Do you even have the ability to pay the price?"
Hope lit Dorian's gaze. "Yes! My clan will pay any price!"
From the side, Meyra stiffened, her lips pressing into a thin line. Why is he asking for a price? Is he… planning for the Zaryth clan to ransom him? But will the Serpent Clan even permit that?
"Young miss," Nina whispered urgently, "should we warn him? That's obviously a trap!"
Meyra tilted her head faintly in Nina's direction, her tone edged with amusement. "Worried about him, are you? Don't tell me you've fallen in love just because he saved you."
A flush bloomed on Nina's cheeks as she looked away. "It's not like that! I just… I just don't want him to fall for Dorian's scheme."
Meyra let out a soft chuckle. "There's nothing wrong with liking him, Nina. But as for falling into a trap? Someone that brutal isn't so easily fooled. If even you can see through it, don't you think he can too?"
Nina pouted faintly, muttering, "Young miss, I'm not a fool, you know. Sometimes I can be wise too."
Meyra's laugh slipped out again.
Meanwhile, Kaelvir's gaze narrowed. "And how will your clan pay the price? Do you even know what I'll ask for?"
"Anything," Dorian said quickly. His voice dropped into a conspiratorial whisper. "My clan will soon take over this city. When that happens, no matter the resources you need, they'll be yours. Join us. Join the Zaryth clan, and this city will belong to us both."
Kaelvir's eyes darkened. Take over Dreamtide City? The Veydrak clan already rules here. How could they dare? Unless… they're scheming in the shadows.
Before he could press further, Solune's calm voice stirred within him. Young lord, I can help.
Kaelvir blinked in surprise. You can? How?
I have a memory reading skill. I'll engrave it into your dream sea.
Excitement coursed through him. A new skill bloomed in his mind, as if he had known it all his life. Divine Reading—the power to read memories without damaging the soul or alerting the victim.
Kaelvir's hand glowed with golden light.
"No… no, stay back!" Dorian shrieked, trying to flee. But Kaelvir's hand clamped over his head, and golden brilliance flooded his eyes. Dorian screamed as the light pierced him, but the cries suddenly cut short. His green eyes went vacant, no resistance left.
The crowd was dumbstruck. Even Meyra and her group stood frozen, unable to comprehend his actions. First, he refused an offer no lone cultivator would ever decline. And now, he dared to openly attack the Zaryth clan's heir.
"This man is insane," someone whispered.
"Too bold," another muttered.
Within Kaelvir, Solune's voice sharpened. Young lord, leave at once. Someone powerful is coming!
He ripped his hand away, body flashing back to Meyra's side just as the ground where he had stood erupted into shards. Dust billowed into the night air. Kaelvir's chest tightened—he had narrowly escaped death.
A suffocating pressure descended, weighing down on every soul present. Even Kaelvir and Meyra gritted their teeth, struggling against the force pressing them into the earth.
Then, suddenly, another pressure rose to meet it, clashing violently and relieving the crowd.
As the dust settled, a sinister elder stood, supporting Dorian's limp body. His gaze slithered toward Meyra and Kaelvir like a serpent sizing up prey.
But he was not alone.
A second elder stepped forward, flames dancing around his crimson eyes. His red robe bore the unmistakable mark of the Kaevor clan. Elder Ganru.
His voice was thunder. "Good… very good. Your Zaryth clan grows bolder by the day!"
His aura flared, pressing down on both the elder and Dorian with crushing weight.
The Zaryth elder's eyes twitched. If Ganru truly fought with his life on the line… even he was not certain of survival.
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