"We were able to capture him. He’s currently being held at a high security detention center." Kang said it plainly, standing inside the apartment while Ethan and the rest sat around a set of spread documents, the paper edges curling slightly under the candlelight.
"He hasn’t cracked yet, unfortunately. However, another asset of the kingdom spotted Buron leaving the city and immediately gave chase. He’s currently heading toward the Great Plains, and we’re comfortable that his arrest is only a matter of time."
All of this had started because of Ethan’s intuition, the thread he’d pulled that day in the field, unraveling faster than anyone had expected.
However, this wasn’t over.
"Although we haven’t gotten much from Honger, our tests on him have allowed us to determine the kind of ritual the three of them were planning to perform." Kang said it quietly, and a solemn weight settled over the room as he spoke.
"As you must already know, a Demi-God summoning is fundamentally different from that of mortal summons. They typically involve the sacrifice of parts of oneself, depending on the domain the god in question rules over."
He paused, letting that sit for a moment before continuing.
"In cases involving evil gods, however, that requirement can be circumvented. Sacrificing others in one’s place." With that, he tapped a finger against a particular section of the document laid before them.
The ritual was a mass murder rite tied to the Blood Serpent God’s dominion over the devouring of blood. Its requirements called for the extermination of a specific bloodline, not a symbolic gesture but a literal count that the ritual itself seemed to track.
This didn’t mean a single clan, not in the way most people would assume. That work had already been finished long ago, the main line severed and scattered generations back. It meant every distant offspring carrying ties to that bloodline, spread thin across cities and kingdoms, hidden behind names that no longer resembled the original in any way a casual observer could trace. Ethan hadn’t recognized the pattern himself, not with how thoroughly the lineage had buried its own history over the years.
But the Punishment Hall’s resources ran wide and deep, reaching into corners Ethan hadn’t even considered, archives and records that stretched back further than most families cared to remember existed.
Listening to it laid out so plainly, Ethan felt something cold settle in his chest. Whoever had designed this ritual hadn’t been thinking in terms of a single night’s violence. They’d been planning across decades, patient enough to let bloodlines drift and scatter before beginning the work of hunting them down one by one.
"For now, there’s nothing more you can do. But in the coming days we may reach a breakthrough, so you should focus on growing stronger in the meantime." Kang turned toward Ethan and Hela as he said it, his expression unreadable.
"I have something for you both." His voice remained calm, measured, before he turned his attention to Fin and Ella. "Your requirements are simpler. Unfortunately, time is a constraint right now, but you’ll receive what you’re owed once this mission concludes."
After that, Kang left the apartment, and the rest of the Punishment Hall members scattered outward through the city, each disappearing into their own assignment.
Two of the three culprits responsible for the incident were effectively caught, and the third remained confined somewhere within the city’s borders, unable to slip past the tightened net. Their goal now shifted toward something more urgent.
Stopping the ritual from ever reaching completion.
That meant preventing every remaining death tied to it, no matter how carefully hidden the trail had become.
Unfortunately, they were up against someone with far more experience than any of them could claim. To hide within a city for years while quietly orchestrating a ritual of this scale required patience most people didn’t possess. Whoever this person was, they were undoubtedly a snake, coiled somewhere close and waiting.
A few days later.
Ethan and Hela climbed into a carriage and left the apartment, heading toward an undisclosed location somewhere within the city.
Of all the materials Ethan still needed for his own ritual, the crown of a king remained the only piece missing. After all, who could realistically approach a king and request his crown for something like this?
That request would end in death far sooner than it would end in strength.
And yet Kang seemed to have succeeded regardless, judging by the direction they were now heading. It left Ethan quietly questioning the origins of this cold, authoritative man he’d been training under.
They arrived at a large storage yard ringed by high stone walls and stepped down from the carriage, where a number of Punishment Hall recruits stood patrolling the perimeter with sharp, disciplined movements, their formation tight and their attention never wavering from the gates.
The moment their eyes landed on Ethan, each of them paused mid-step and offered a crisp salute without needing to be told, the gesture uniform and immediate across every single one of them.
This kind of treatment was unusual, according to Hela, who watched it happen with a slight furrow in her brow. The Punishment Hall was widely known as the most arrogant institution in the entire kingdom, one that answered to almost no one outside its own ranks and made a point of demonstrating that at every opportunity.
They had, on more than one occasion, attempted to arrest members of the royal family itself, and had faced no meaningful consequence for doing so.
Generally, they bowed to no one aside from their direct superiors and the king. Even provincial lords received little more than a curt nod from most of their operatives.
But Ethan seemed to be an exception to that rule, and Hela couldn’t help but wonder, watching the salutes ripple through the yard, if it had something to do with whatever relationship existed between him and Kang.
Maybe there was more history there than either of them had let on.
Maybe.
Soon enough they reached an open yard, wide and empty save for a scattering of crates stacked along the far wall, where Kang stood waiting beside an older man dressed in a plain gray robe, unremarkable in every visible way. Nothing about his posture or presence suggested anything beyond an ordinary attendant, someone easily overlooked in a crowd.
The moment Ethan laid eyes on that man, a chill ran straight through his body, and his tyrant’s might stirred instinctively within him, circulating without conscious command, gathering itself as though preparing for a confrontation his mind hadn’t yet caught up to.
Whoever stood beside Kang, wrapped in that unassuming robe, was terrifying, and every instinct sharpened by weeks of fighting for his life told Ethan exactly that.
Beside him, Hela had gone still as well, her hand drifting instinctively toward the dagger at her hip without any conscious decision behind the motion. She said nothing, but the tension in her shoulders spoke clearly enough. Whoever this man was, he wasn’t simply another Punishment Hall officer standing idle in a storage yard.
Kang noticed the reaction and offered no explanation yet, only a faint, knowing look that told Ethan this meeting had been arranged for a reason far more deliberate than a passing introduction.
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