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Chapter 15
Calvenne trembled.
Not under the weight of a siege or an invading army, but under its own demons. Each street exhaled the stench of fear, sweat, and dried blood. The walls seemed to listen, the shadows seemed to watch, and no one dared to trust their neighbor anymore.
Kael, hidden beneath his illusion as Varlen, moved through the markets like an invisible spectator. His hair had turned a dull chestnut, his features slightly aged with a few artificial lines, his eyes a forgettable shade of brown. Everything about him breathed ordinariness.
And yet, behind this mask, his mind turned like a grinding wheel — collecting information, calculating the next moves.
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Rising Tension
The city guard had begun fighting among themselves. Entire patrols disappeared in the lower districts, their bodies never found.
The Merchant Council drowned in endless, sterile meetings, each house accusing the other of betrayal.
The Shadow Brotherhood fought openly in the streets, turning alleys into slaughterhouses.
Kael had only needed to whisper here, sow doubt there, and spread a rumor elsewhere.
Now, chaos thrived without him lifting a single hand.
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The Art of Manipulation
In a private hall, Kael met with Lady Lioren, a noblewoman known for pulling the strings of several minor guilds.
> "You still believe the guard capable of maintaining order?" Kael asked, sipping calmly at his wine.
> "They are nothing more than dogs without masters," she replied bitterly. "The Council underpays them, the Brotherhood corrupts them, and meanwhile the city bleeds."
Kael nodded gravely.
> "And if someone, from within, were to propose an alternative? A new order, free of these old quarrels…"
Her smile wavered, caught between desire and fear. Kael did not press further. He knew that the most ambitious minds required only a spark to ignite themselves.
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Sélène's Doubt
That night, Sélène joined Kael on the rooftops. Their silhouettes stood against a crimson sky, dyed by the fires devouring nearby warehouses.
> "This is going too far, Kael," she whispered. "People are dying, families are breaking, the city is suffocating…"
Kael studied her in silence, his eyes glimmering behind the veil of his illusion.
> "You see a city in agony. I see a diseased organism that must be consumed before it poisons everything around it."
> "But you could stop this. You could lead them toward something else—"
> "And they would follow me?" Kael let out a low, bitter laugh. "No, Sélène. Men do not listen to reason. They listen to fear. And when their fear has reduced them to ashes, only then will they be ready to rise again."
A heavy silence fell. She clenched her fists but found no words to answer him.
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The Cracks in the Mask
Even beneath his illusion, Kael sometimes felt his body betray him.
A cough. A dull ache in his bones. A tremor in his fingers after sustaining the illusion too long.
His mana was infinite… but his vessel remained human, fragile.
It was one reason he needed pawns, manipulated allies, willing puppets. Each direct effort ate further into his strength.
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The Promise of Chaos
One night, watching Calvenne burn from his chamber window, Kael whispered to himself:
> "The fruit is almost ripe… Just a little longer, and it will fall on its own."
Behind him, Sélène heard the words. She said nothing. But in her eyes, a shadow grew — a mixture of fear and disbelief.
Kael did not turn away.
He knew. The city was already lost.
All that remained was to savor its downfall.
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