Kaelen remained within the army's ranks just long enough to blend in, waiting until they reached the first border city inside the empire's territory. As the rows of soldiers began to fracture and dispersed into the streets, he broke away, veering left into a narrow alley while Floria followed a few steps behind.
At the next intersection, deep in the shadows where the morning light couldn't reach, a figure waited. A long hood swallowed his head and face, but the twin curved blades crossed on his back were unmistakable.
It was the Gold-Tier Black Reaper who had assigned them most of their missions. Their handler.
Kaelen offered a stiff nod. Even that slight motion of respect made a sick sensation roll in his gut, which surprisingly felt worse than before.
Why? he wondered. Is it because of that Primalist?
Floria mirrored his gesture and stepped up to his side before stopping in front of their superior. Without a word, Kaelen reached for one of the two Endless Pouches at his belt and handed it to the hooded man.
Inside lay the harvest from the Cave of the Elements: two Copper Seeds—one radiating the dry, crackling heat of Fire, the other vibrating with the erratic, sharp energy of Wind. Next to them rested a heavy, sealed jar containing an Iron-Tier Earth Essence that looked like nothing more than thick mud swirling sluggishly against the glass. Kaelen had also placed the two spell-shards they had found in the cave. Both were Iron-Tier, but their value was undeniable—one Epic, the other Epic+.
The Black Reaper's head tilted. For a fraction of a second, his composure slipped, his eyes widening in the gloom as he assessed the haul. He looked up, pinning Kaelen and his sister with a heavy stare.
"Did you see any other Seeds in there?"
"Yes," Kaelen answered. "An Iron one. But it was guarded by a beast we couldn't kill. A Silver Keeper."
"Good," the Reaper grunted. "I'll dispatch a harvest team to harvest it."
The man attached the pouch to his own belt then looked back at them, not giving Kaelen or his sister anything in return. No coins. Nor thanks.
Kaelen swallowed the bile rising in his throat.
"Anything else regarding the Rift?" the Reaper asked.
"It is vast," Kaelen replied, keeping his voice steady despite the anger coiling within. "Tremendously big. It would have taken a year, maybe more, to explore it completely just by ourselves. And... we weren't the only ones in there. We encountered a Wielder from Kastal inside. There's undoubtedly a portal on their side of the border."
"Did you kill him?" The question was sharp and immediate.
"Negative," Kaelen said as the memory of Seth and his beasts flashed in his mind. "He was stronger than us."
"Was he alone?"
"Yes."
"Good." The Reaper nodded slowly, seemingly weighing that new piece of information. "That means he won't talk. Not if he saw a Seed. Unlike here, those things are forbidden in his kingdom. Greed will keep his mouth shut better than any threat."
The man straightened, his curved swords shifting with a soft scrape of leather. "Anything else?"
Kaelen shook his head. "No."
He shot a quick, sidelong glance at his sister—a silent command to keep her mouth shut. And thankfully, even with all her bluntness, Floria remained stone-faced and betrayed nothing.
The Black Reaper pulled his hood farther down, and without another word, turned to melt into the shadows of the alley and disappear as if he had never been there.
After letting out a sigh, Kaelen turned on his heel and walked away, taking a sharp turn toward the city's western gate. Floria hurried to catch up, her footsteps light behind him.
"Where are you going?" she asked.
"To the caravan station," the Dark Assassin answered, barely glancing at her.
"What? Why?"
"To finish our last contract," Kaelen said as he wove through a stack of wooden crates. "We don't have to participate in any battles this coming week. That's plenty of time to get there, finish the job, and get back."
Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on NovelPhoenix.
"You... you're seriously not going to tell the Black Reaper about the beasts of that Primalist?" Floria hissed, lowering her voice. "Or a higher-up? Anyone?"
Kaelen didn't slow his stride.
"Kaelen, think about it," she pressed, hurrying to keep up. "Our soldiers are going to engage him thinking they've got an easy kill on a lone enemy. Then boom—a giant scorpion and a direwolf drop on their heads. It'll be a massacre."
She shuddered, the memory of the cavern battle clearly still fresh in her mind. "With those two beasts, he can basically face five or six people by himself. And that's assuming he hasn't gotten stronger since we left. Which, honestly, would be surprising. That guy is a battle freak. He lives to fight."
"You didn't even fight with him directly," Kaelen said, casting a sideways glance at her.
"But I fought side to side with his scorpion," Floria retorted immediately. "That beast basically forced me to keep fighting for twenty-four hours straight. I saw his shell cracking, his body trembling from pain, and yet he kept charging as if he didn't care. As if endless battles were nothing for him."
"Yeah. His master was the same," Kaelen admitted, his eyes locked ahead as they moved through the winding alley. "But no. I'm not running back to report every little detail like a good little lapdog. I don't care enough about their war."
"You don't want the empire to win?"
"We'll win regardless," Kaelen answered. "One man won't stop the tide. Kastal will fold sooner or later. They're just stalling at the moment, trying to burn through whatever resources they stole before the inevitable surrender."
"But to stop the killing, they'll have to offer something of equal value."
"Exactly. And if the things they stole are as rare as I suspect, the only thing they have of equal value is land."
Floria jogged to keep up, frowning. "But doesn't another nation basically own them?"
"Yes. Volantis," Kaelen confirmed. "Which is why the empress is a fool. She's kicking a hornet's nest. If she annexes Kastal's territories, she incurs the wrath of a nation that could crush us without breaking a sweat."
"What about the protection from the NEVAK?" Floria argued as they emerged onto the wider, deserted road. "We'll be immune to retaliation for a year after the war ends. Doesn't that mean we're safe?"
"For a year," Kaelen retorted, eyeing the caravan station that loomed in the distance, bathed in pale morning light. "And that's assuming we have that protection. The NEVAK could announce that they won't intervene if we get attacked by nations like Volantis."
"Why would they do that?"
"Because of how we will win," Kaelen said, his voice dripping with disdain. "Didn't you listen to the briefing? Distortion fields? No prisoners? Total annihilation? Do you honestly think the NEVAK, or any other nations, will applaud that?"
He scoffed, kicking a loose stone. "Greed drives nations, sure. But this? This is butchery. Give it a week. When every battle ends with zero survivors on the Kastal side, do you think the world will respect us? It might terrify them into surrendering faster, yes. But is it worth the stain? Is it worth the thousands we're about to slaughter?"
"That isn't for you or I to judge," Floria replied coldly. "We are neophytes of the Black Reapers. We are blades. And a blade doesn't question the hand that wields it. It just cuts."
"And that is exactly the problem!" Kaelen snapped before stopping abruptly to face her. "If you don't think, if you just cut, you never see the strings. You never realize how they play you. How they lie about not knowing who butchered our village. Who murdered our family. They hide the truth to keep us hungry and loyal, all while protecting the very bastards who did it."
"W-what?" Floria stammered, her frigid mask cracking. "What are you talking about?"
Kaelen threw his hands up as his own composure was entirely shattered. "Open your eyes, Floria! Didn't you see it? The high-ranking Reapers you admire so much and bled for—they all knew. They've always known. But it was easier to tell us they were 'investigating,' to keep us as their obedient little pets."
He took a step closer, now only inches away from his sister. "So if you want to stay blind, to keep cutting without thinking, go ahead. But me? I'm done."
With a spin, Kaelen turned his back on her and resumed walking toward the caravan station.
I will no longer be a tool.
As he walked, Kaelen's thoughts drifted back once more to the Primalist. He had been animated by such raw anger that it drove him forward and forced him to fight as if stopping had never been an option. Rise, no matter the cost.
He had hurled himself at the Ice Elemental without a shred of hesitation. Not because he had been ordered to, but because he was desperate to change his reality.
Whether it was for vengeance or ambition, it didn't matter; Seth had grabbed his Path by the throat and forced it to his heel.
That Primalist was a beast that couldn't be chained, that was too ravenous to obey. Odds were he would die before he could get much stronger. But if by some miracle he survived... he would certainly reach the heights of legends. And he would do so as the master of his own fate.
That was what Kaelen wanted for himself.
To be a blade that possessed its own will and will decide for itself whether to cut or to sheathe. He was done being the perfect soldier.
It was time to become strong enough that no one could order him around. Strong enough that no one could lie to him ever again. Strong enough to stand before that Primalist without feeling inferior.
Without feeling like prey.
------END OF BOOK 2------
Book 3: Cover (Placeholder)
〜Synopsis〜
The danger of war means nothing to a Primalist. But the cost does.
The Bridan Empire’s armies march across the Warfare Rifts with a single goal in mind: make Kastal surrender as quickly as possible. While nobles are fighting for Legacies, Seth's sole objective is to save lives.
With Nightmare and Colossus at his sides, he must carve his name into the battlefield and become a terror feared by all. Every battle won, every life taken, might strip away another fragment of the person he used to be for the greater cause.
To protect those he cares for, he has no choice but to embrace the monster within himself—and remember why he chose his Path. Because with yet another rebellion looming at the horizon, every choice will demand its price… and some debts can only be paid in blood.
_______
Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!
Use arrow keys (or A / D) to PREV/NEXT chapter