Robin snapped out of his daze.
"Servants!" he barked.
"Help the Crown Prince—now!"
His voice broke the trance.
Suddenly, the entire courtyard seed to exhale.
Nobles stirred. Guards moved. Whispers blood like wildfire across the marble floor.
"Was Sir Kaelion always this strong?"
"The Prince didn’t stand a chance..."
"He must be favored by the gods..."
"Elara knew—she had to know. That woman is terrifying..."
"She’s not just beautiful—she’s brilliant. She bet on the right horse."
Near the edge of the arena, Elara remained still.
Her eyes tracked Kael like he was no longer a boy—but a storm she had just glimpsed the edge of.
She had always known he was unusual.
But this?
This was beyond even her darkest predictions.
And yet...
A smile curved her lips.
Quiet.
Knowing.
"So... you really are him," she whispered.
Robin cleared his throat and stepped forward, bowing slightly.
"Young Lord Kaelion," he said carefully.
"His Majesty has summoned you to court. Your spells... and your rewards... will be presented there."
Kael didn’t move at first.
Then, he turned to face the nearest cara orb—his voice clear, sharp, and perfectly tid to carry across every corner of the kingdom.
"Of course, Mister Robin," he said. "I trust the royal family’s integrity."
He smiled—just enough to make it sting.
"I know they would never go back on their word."
The entire courtyard fell silent again.
So nobles exchanged nervous glances.
Others paled.
Everyone knew what Kael was doing—broadcasting subtle pressure across the kingdom.
Cornering the King.
Tying his word to the court of public opinion.
Robin’s temple twitched.
A vein pulsed on his forehead.
Shaless.
Absolutely, utterly shaless.
And yet... what could he say?
"Of course, Young Master," Robin muttered tightly. "Right this way."
Kael followed Robin through the palace’s long corridors, his footsteps steady, unrushed.
The weight of a hundred eyes pressed on his back—but he walked like a man already crowned.
Elara followed too.
A few paces behind.
Silent, composed... observing him.
As if studying a puzzle she couldn’t quite solve.
Yue floated beside him, her voice a soft murmur only he could hear.
"She’s watching you like a hawk. What does she want from you?"
Kael didn’t glance back. "We’ll find out soon enough."
The towering doors of the royal throne room opened with a groan.
And beyond them—
The King awaited.
Cloaked in velvet, seated beneath the golden sigil of the realm, the monarch sat unmoving.
But Kael could see it.
The tension in his shoulders.
The stiffness in his grip.
He wasn’t calm.
He was furious.
To the King’s left and right sat the Dukes of the North and East—and on the far right, lounging like a serpent in silk, was Duchess Selvaris of the South.
Beautiful.
Deadly.
Smiling like she slled blood in the air.
The fourth seat—the Duke of the West—remained empty.
Vacant.
Because Kael had put it that way.
Yue tilted her head, unimpressed.
"They didn’t co to enjoy the show."
Kael smirked.
"No. They ca to asure the threat."
Then he gestured with his chin.
"Look at the King’s armrest."
Yue blinked, followed his gaze.
Deep claw marks had been gouged into the golden wood.
The King’s fingernails had scraped through the lacquer like a beast trying not to lose control.
Yue laughed under her breath. "Looks like he really enjoyed the duel."
Kael’s smile never reached his eyes.
"He’s furious. But too smart to show it."
Monts later, the King finally spoke.
"Kaelion Drenlor."
His voice echoed across the hall, calm... but cold.
"We grieve for your family. May they rest in peace."
Kael bowed with just the right amount of sorrow.
"Thank you, Your Majesty."
The King continued, his tone shifting ever so slightly.
"We’ve seen your public statent.
But now that you stand before the throne—we would like to hear it again.
From your own lips.
What happened that day?"
Kael closed his eyes briefly.
When they opened, his face had changed.
Pain twisted in his brow.
His shoulders slumped.
The perfect picture of a grieving son.
Kael recited the sa story he’d told the kingdom days ago—his public statent, delivered now with soft-spoken sorrow and just the right tremble in his voice.
And by the end... there were tears in his eyes.
Whether they were real or not didn’t matter.
The court believed them.
Silence fell over the throne room like a veil.
Thick.
Heavy.
Kael scanned the faces around him—nobles, knights, high-ranking officials.
Most wore the sa look: sympathy laced with discomfort. So exchanged glances.
Others nodded solemnly.
It was working.
All except for one.
The King.
He sat on his throne unmoving, a statue carved of restraint and suspicion.
His face betrayed nothing.
But Kael could feel it—the weight of that stare.
He knows.
Of course the King knew.
He wasn’t a fool.
The rest of the kingdom might believe that Duke and the Divine General were old comrades—bound by honor, allies in service to the crown.
But the truth?
Only the King knew that they were enemies.
Sworn enemies.
And yet, in Kael’s public story?
He claid the Divine General had joined forces with Duke... to fight the Devil?
It was nonsense.
And still—the King said nothing.
He didn’t call it out. Didn’t question it. Didn’t even raise a brow.
He simply watched.
Silent.
And that, to Kael, was more than enough.
Because silence... was permission.
Suddenly, a noble stepped forward, voice rising like a flare.
"Your Majesty!
We cannot afford to remain passive!
The Devil is not just a rumor anymore—he’s real, and he’s dangerous!"
Another joined in.
"If we don’t act now, the consequences could be catastrophic!"
"We must launch an investigation!"
"Before the Devil brings ruin upon us all!"
The chamber erupted. Dozens of voices clamoring at once, each louder than the last.
The court’s composure shattered into chaos, fear rippling like wildfire.
And still, Kael stood still.
Arms behind his back.
Expression composed.
Letting it all burn.
Yue’s voice echoed calmly inside his mind.
"The King... Rank 5. The two Dukes and the Duchess? Rank 4 each."
Kael didn’t react.
"And?"
"There are more," she said, tone sharp.
"Hidden. Watching from the shadows. I’d estimate several Rank 4s at least. Likely royal guards."
Kael exhaled softly through his nose.
"I can’t sense them clearly. They’re cloaking their presence with advanced magic."
He offered no reply.
Because he was already thinking further.
He didn’t know the full strength of the royal army yet.
He didn’t have a quest to conquer the kingdom.
Not yet.
But there was no rule against planning ahead.
After all, ambition is a nobleman’s birthright.
And then—
A hand rose.
The King’s.
It was a small gesture.
But it cut through the madness like a blade through silk.
Instantly, the court fell silent.
The King finally spoke.
"We don’t need to act hastily," he said, voice calm but firm.
"The Empire is already moving."
A wave of confusion swept through the court.
Murmurs broke out like ripples across water.
"The Empire?"
"Why would they care?"
"This is just a backwater kingdom..."
"A masked rogue with a fancy title..."
The idea seed absurd.
The Empire—the continent’s divine hand—interfering over a lone masked figure wreaking havoc in a small duchy?
Unthinkable.
The Duchess of the Southern Province, Selvaris, narrowed her eyes.
She leaned forward slightly, her tone edged with suspicion.
"Your Majesty... forgive the question, but why would the Empire be interested in this Devil?"
The King’s expression did not change.
But the air in the throne room shifted.
He looked slowly at each of the Dukes.
Then the ministers.
Then Kael.
When he spoke again, his voice was lower.
Sharper.
"What I’m about to say," he said,"must not leave this chamber."
Kael’s heart skipped.
Sothing in the pit of his stomach twisted.
Beside him, Yue stiffened.
"No. No no no," she whispered. "Kael, this is bad."
The King’s gaze darkened.
His words dropped like stones in a still pond.
"The Devil... bears the Godbreaker’s Mark."
Silence.
Then—
Chaos.
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