When the group of soldiers from the Kingdom of Leon followed the maid, the noises returned to their ears.
And the atmosphere of the tavern hit them hard, as they heard the voices of people in the place that they couldn’t hear before.
"Waitress, another beer. Today is a special day. I’m going to have my first child, and we have to celebrate in style!" shouted an excited man, raising his empty glass.
Another man didn’t miss the opportunity and said, "Congratulations, man! Why don’t you buy the next round?"
The guy, who was already drunk, looked at everyone present and roared at the top of his lungs:
"The next round is on , in honor of my first son!"
The tavern grew even livelier as everyone congratulated the man, and the waitress bustled about carrying wooden glasses filled with beer.
The infiltrated soldiers from the Kingdom of Lion sighed with relief when they realized they had escaped the illusion and proceeded to the second floor, still following the maid, who had not looked at them once since she had spoken to them.
With their footsteps echoing on the wood and sunlight filtering through the only window in the hallway, they ca to a simple wooden door, where they saw the maid opening the door.
Upon entering, they saw a fifteen-year-old boy with long black hair, dressed in a simple but elegant black suit. A mask made of coins covered the lower part of his face, and his black eyes stared at them indifferently.
"Sit down." Kael’s voice ca out thick and sowhat distorted. It didn’t sound like the voice of a fifteen-year-old boy at all.
The soldiers of the Kingdom of Lion sat down as the door closed behind them, their minds racing, thinking of ways to end the life of the young man standing before them.
But they didn’t, because they thought, How can he be so calm in front of them, knowing who they are? And rembering how they had been caught up in the magic of illusion, they assud there were more people nearby.
Kael looked coldly at the infiltrated soldiers who had arrived with the early spring caravan. He had not made contact with them before because it was not necessary, and it was not the right ti.
Now, with the tournant starting in two days, it was the perfect ti to make his move and put his plans into action. To do so, he needed pieces, and he needed to use them until they were damaged.
A subtle smile ford on his lips, but due to the mask of coins, none of those present could see it.
"What do you want from us? You know who we are, and you didn’t report us to the dici Clan, so you want sothing from us, right?" Karlos, who appeared to be the leader or highest-ranking mber, spoke, looking directly into Kael’s eyes.
"You guys are quick on the uptake," Kael said, leaning back in his chair. "I want you to do sothing for ."
"And what do you want us to do?" Karlos asked, a cold sweat running down his back.
"What they will do is simple. They will continue doing the sa thing: disturbing the wild beasts and making the mbers of the dici Clan disappear," Kael said with his usual calm.
He had no attachnt to the Clan, so the deaths of its mbers ant nothing to him. To him, the death of one was the sa as the death of a pig.
"However, I will give you so information about the beasts and more. But you cannot act now; you will do so when the tournant begins."
This took the soldiers of the Kingdom of Lion by surprise. They hadn’t expected to be told that; they had thought of all kinds of things, but never anything like this, which was perfect for them, because that was why they had been sent to the Kingdom of Aragón.
"Do you have so kind of grudge against the dici Clan?" Karlos asked carefully, waiting for so strong reaction from the mysterious young man standing before him.
However, Kael did not react in the slightest. In his past life, he had resented and hated them; he had wished for all of them to die.
Because when he awakened a D-rank talent, he was treated like trash and the worst possible scum, a stain on the prestigious dici Clan, one of the grand duchies of the kingdom of Aragon.
There, he suffered several events that marked him: the betrayal of his fiancée Evelyn, the tragic death of his mother Alessia at the hands of Jasper and other elderly inmates. But as ti passed, he realized that all of this was chains that blinded him.
When he was the last survivor of the Great War of Calamity, which reduced the five regions to ashes, Kael understood a truth that few dare even to face.
It wasn’t a sudden revelation. It didn’t co with tears or outbursts.
Human emotions... love, hate, compassion, pride, loyalty...
All of them, without exception, were chains: heavy, invisible, sweet in appearance, but deadly in their purpose.
They are the ones who push n to fight wars, to die for ideals, to protect the weak at their own expense... They are the ones who blind us.
And the truth is simple: the world does not reward kindness or punish cruelty. It only responds to force.
That was when he made a definitive decision: to separate himself from all of that.
Not because he hated humanity. Not because he wanted to beco a monster.
But because he understood that those who allow themselves to be ruled by their emotions will never be truly free.
But that didn’t an he had killed his emotions.
No. Kael is not a machine or a soulless beast. He can still feel all those emotions.
But there’s a big line between wanting and obeying.
He doesn’t repress his emotions.
He controls them.
Pushing his thoughts aside, Kael spoke after a long silence, which made the soldiers of the Lion Kingdom tense up.
"No, I hold no grudge against the dici."
"So why orchestrate his downfall?" Karlos looked into Kael’s dark eyes for a brief mont, searching for so kind of emotion he could use, but found nothing.
"That’s none of your business." A dark gleam appeared in Kael’s eyes, and he continued speaking. "Now I will give you the information about the wild beasts and the mbers of the dici Clan."
...
After hearing the information, the soldiers of the Kingdom of Lion left the room, leaving Kael alone as he gazed out the window, observing the festive atmosphere in the city.
Soon, those celebrations would be interrupted by screams, and those warm lights would reflect pools of still-warm blood.
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