The rhythmic creak of the carriage wheels rolled like a lullaby across the cobbled path.
Inside, Kael sat in stillness, eyes fixed on the scroll in his hand—Grave Chant. Its black wax seal had been carefully broken earlier, now resealed with his own protective layer.
He exhaled softly and slid it back into his space ring.
His thoughts drifted briefly—Robin’s sour expression, the way the man had practically whined when Kael insisted on taking the undeciphered scroll.
"Too dangerous," he had said.
Kael had just smiled.
Later, he was handed the contract—a cursed parchnt laced with ancient bindings.
The terms were clear: he could use the spells, but sharing them, in any form, ant death.
Instant. Absolute.
Kael smiled again and signed.
After all... in the dreamrealm, rules were only as real as he allowed them to be.
Then he left the castle without a word.
Venom, his ever-hungry shadow, was still inside—lurking, feeding, exploring.
It felt like letting a child roam unsupervised in a library made of secrets and bones.
But Kael trusted him. Venom had grown, and Kael had nurtured that growth carefully.
Where others saw a monster, he saw a part of himself.
Across from him, Yue had already warned him—spies had taken interest.
Not just the royal ones. Others, too. Observing. Judging.
He turned his gaze to the window. The world beyond moved by in slow fras—serene, quiet forests, storm-laden skies.
But behind that stillness, threats swirled like wolves behind the treeline.
The most pressing?
The investigators sent to probe the Devil’s rising presence.
And the second?
Elara.
He closed his eyes.
In both cases, the solution was the sa.
If the Devil was feared, then Kael must beco the opposite.
He had to be sothing else entirely — a shadow that moved away from the Devil’s silhouette.
A man no one could confuse with a monster.
Kael finally sent a thought to Yue, his tone dry but laced with grim amusent:
"Can’t we just use a cloning spell? Make a copy of , slap a hood on it, call it the Devil. Boom—Kaelion and Devil, two different people.
Problem solved."
Yue sighed, the sound brushing his mind like a tired wind.
"Kael... there are many ways to see through illusions."
She paused, her mind quiet for a beat. Then:
"Unless..."
She didn’t finish.
Kael frowned. That pause carried weight.
He pressed, but Yue ntally turned away.
Instead, she added aloud,
"You can’t fake a presence that passes artifacts. Or high-rank magicians. Their perception cuts through lesser tricks like mist before the sun."
Kael groaned, leaning his head against the carriage wall.
Of course it wouldn’t be easy.
The world he’d fallen into was filled with broken tilines, soul-swapped enemies, and powers that laughed at simple deception.
Still... a pause wasn’t a no.
Unless... lingered like a seed in his mind.
Kael didn’t press Yue further. If she wasn’t saying it now, she had her reasons. He respected that—even if it gnawed at him.
He turned to the window. The atmosphere outside was thick with unease. The Devil’s shadow lood over the kingdom, and everyone feared it.
Kael smirked faintly.
"Terrified of a man they don’t even understand. Fools."
Then again, even he wasn’t sure if he understood the Devil... or himself, anymore.
"Well," he murmured to himself, "I’ll find a way. I always do."
He spoke to Yue again, mind to mind:
"By the way... how am I supposed to learn your sword style?"
Yue’s answer ca like a whisper wrapped in clarity.
"You can use the Dreamrealm."
Kael’s eyes widened.
Of course.
The Dreamrealm—his strange domain, half-waking, half-imagined. A space where ti bent and reality blurred.
He grinned. "Yes... in the Dreamrealm, I can do anything."
Then paused, coughed, and corrected himself:
"...Well, not anything." His smirk returned. "But enough."
He leaned back, a new plan forming.
Not only could he train in Yue’s sword art in secret, but mastering it through dreams would also sharpen his control over that realm—his greatest hidden card.
As Kael stepped down from the carriage, the familiar stone walls of Nyra’s church lood with quiet reverence.
Before he could take more than a few steps, Riven and Lira rushed forward—smiling, eager.
"Lord Kael!" Riven greeted, his voice full of genuine warmth.
Lira added with a soft smile, "Welco back."
Kael nodded, pleased.
Their acceptance felt... real.
Not bound by fear, but gratitude. Perhaps even hope.
He glanced at the other children in the courtyard—eyes bright, laughter returning to a place that once echoed only with prayer and silence.
He allowed himself a small smile.
At a distance, Nyra stood stiffly near the door, arms crossed. She hadn’t t his gaze yet.
After a breath, she asked, "So... how was the eting?"
Kael, calm and unreadable, said, "It was good. Why don’t we go inside and talk?"
Nyra blinked. Her cheeks flushed red.
"W–What do you an, inside and talk?" she stamred.
Kael paused.
Realized.
Then deadpan:
"You’re quite dirty-minded for a priestess."
She choked, turning away, muttering sothing under her breath—sothing about "blasphemy" and "incorrigible n."
Kael chuckled under his breath, the sound low and amused.
Without another word, he stepped into the church. The soft thud of his boots echoed gently against the stone floor.
Nyra followed a few paces behind, still flustered but regaining her composure.
Her voice steadied as she said, "Selene and the Divine General haven’t returned yet."
Kael’s footsteps echoed softly as he moved toward the dining room, Nyra quietly following behind.
His tone was casual but carried a weight beneath it.
"Oh, they must be busy with legal matters," he said, settling into a chair.
Nyra smiled gently, settling opposite him. After a brief pause, Kael’s voice lowered, serious.
"I want to know sothing. Can you help , Nyra?"
She nodded eagerly, curiosity bright in her eyes as they both sat down at the wooden dining table.
Kael leaned forward slightly, his eyes fixed on Nyra with quiet intensity.
"Nyra... how many gods are there, really?"
Nyra’s smile faded, replaced by a thoughtful expression.
Reviews
All reviews (0)