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Chapter 12 —
The rain hadn't stopped for three days.
The slick cobblestones reflected the lantern light, turning the streets into rivers of blurred gold.
Kael walked slowly, the hood pulled low over his illusion-shaped face. His altered features — darker hair, older lines — kept prying eyes from recognizing him, though his infinite mana still whispered its cost to his fragile body.
The city, once proud, now resembled a wounded beast: defensive, paranoid, ready to bite at the smallest provocation.
And in the shadows, Kael held the strings that made it twitch.
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Pawns Unaware of the Game
In a smoky basement, Kael met with Sélène and three influential figures — a ruined merchant, a disgraced guard captain, and a master craftsman who had been losing his contracts.
They all thought they were here to find solutions.
In truth, they were here to receive their orders.
Kael never told them to strike directly at the city's great powers.
No. He preferred to pit them against each other, each convinced they were defending their own interests.
> "The warehouses at the East docks are less guarded since the last altercation," Kael said calmly, sliding a map across the table.
"You might take advantage before your rivals do."
The merchant nodded, while the captain already understood that this move would put the Guard on alert… against others, not him.
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The Domino Effect
Two days later, rumors of a weapons smuggling ring spread through the lower districts.
The accusations targeted the Guard, who retaliated by blaming the merchants.
The artisans, now deprived of materials, joined the dispute.
Kael watched the spread of chaos like a man watching dominoes fall.
Sélène, leaning against the railing of the backroom balcony, watched him work.
> "You're turning this city into a powder keg," she said.
> "No, Sélène," he replied without looking up. "I'm only holding up a mirror. What they see… was already inside them."
She smiled, but there was something in it that Kael didn't ignore: a mixture of admiration… and caution.
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The Cracks in the Mask
One night, after returning from a clandestine meeting, Kael felt his strength falter.
His illusions still held, but the weakness of his body gnawed at him.
Sélène steadied him without a word, her cold fingers on his arm.
> "You should take it easy…" she murmured.
"I don't have that luxury."
She studied him for a long moment, as if searching for a flaw beneath the face that wasn't truly his.
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Escalation
The tension only grew worse.
Targeted killings struck down minor but strategic figures.
Forged documents spread, accusing the Merchant Council of planning a coup.
Armed groups patrolled certain neighborhoods, and whispers of civil war hung in the air.
At the center of it all, unseen, Kael orchestrated each note of this chaotic symphony.
But he could feel the web pulling tight.
And in Sélène's gaze, every now and then, he caught a glimmer he didn't like — as if she were counting her own cards.
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The Promise
One night, as they stood on the terrace of an abandoned house, watching rain-soaked rooftops glisten in the lamplight, Sélène asked:
> "When all this is over… what will you do?"
Kael answered without hesitation:
"I'll leave before the walls come down. I'm not here to sit on the ruins, Sélène. Only to make sure they fall."
She nodded, but her eyes turned away.
Kael knew a silent promise had just been born between them…
…or perhaps a vow she would one day break.
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