Chapter 18
‘Still, I should probably get word to Seren.’
Seren’s loyalty ran deep—dangerously deep. Left to his own devices, he would tear the empire apart stone by stone to find him.
‘First, he’ll mobilize the Capital Guard.’
Of course, that wouldn’t last long. With the gala looming, the Guard would be stretched to its absolute limits, tasked with welcoming foreign dignitaries and ensuring the city didn’t collapse into chaos.
Once the Guard became unavailable, Seren would look to his next option. The military. He’d find a way to drag the army into this, consequences be damned. On the surface, Seren looked like the ultimate model student—buttoned-up and mild-mannered—but beneath that facade lay a man capable of pulling stunts regular people wouldn’t dare dream of.
Knock, knock.
A timely rap on the door broke his train of thought. A savory, rich aroma drifted through the cracks first, signaling that Ivelin had arrived with dinner.
“Come in.“
Ivelin pushed the door open, practically glowing with pride as she wheeled in a heavily laden tray.
“Today we have braised veal,” she announced cheerfully. “I used a very fine wine for the reduction, so it should be delicious. I’ve paired it with a potato and zucchini salad, and the bread is fresh from a bakery down the street—it’s wonderful.“
With a flourish, she slid the tray right up to him.
“Can’t you just hand it to me directly?” Kite asked, eyeing the distance.
“Pardon?” Ivelin’s expression shifted, as if she had just heard something entirely nonsensical. “Are you seriously asking a fragile, ordinary person like me to step within arm’s reach of a Sword Master?“
Fragile and ordinary? Kite held back a scoff. He knew for a fact she had a weapon concealed beneath her layers—likely that firearm he’d caught a glimpse of the other day. Noble firearms had come a long way, but they were still finicky, specialized weapons. Carrying one daily meant she knew exactly how to use it.
Knowing Baron Frilly’s meticulous nature, her skills probably rivaled those of a seasoned professional. Watching her play the delicate maiden was almost impressive in its audacity.
Kite narrowed his eyes, giving her a pointed look before shifting his attention to the food.
He started with the veal simmered in wine. It was clear she’d put effort into it, and the flavor wasn’t bad, but it carried a faint, haunting familiarity. It tasted like the army. On days when military rations ran thin, soldiers would set traps, catching small game to roast or stew over a campfire.
It tastes exactly like that.
Ivelin watched him closely as he chewed, eventually asking in a tentative voice, “How is it?“
“Passable,” Kite replied evenly. “Though I don’t think cooking is your true calling. It tastes like the military.“
Ivelin blinked in disbelief, her eyebrows knitting together. “I’ve never even been in the military!“
“Did Baron Frilly teach you how to cook?“
“…Only the meat dishes,” she mumbled defensively.
She had intended to follow the exact recipe provided by the local butcher, but the list contained a few unfamiliar ingredients. Improvising with what she knew, she had inadvertently recreated her grandfather’s signature culinary style.
“You need to relearn,” Kite concluded.
“You just said it was passable!“
“Passable doesn’t mean delicious.“
Despite his critique, Kite cleared every single plate. Swordsmen burned an immense amount of energy, and their appetites naturally matched their exertion. Previously, he had only picked at his food out of suspicion that it might be poisoned, but now that he trusted the environment, he didn’t hold back.
“More importantly,” Kite said, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “I need to send a message outside.“
“What? To whom?“
“My Vice-Commander, Seren.“
“Ah, him.” Ivelin winced slightly. That would be the very man currently turning the capital upside down in a frenzied manhunt.
When the Guard had first launched their indiscriminate checkpoints, even Ivelin had felt a chill run down her spine. While the number of guards actively searching for Kite had dwindled, they couldn’t afford to be careless.
“…Is a message absolutely necessary?” she asked hesitantly.
“If I don’t, he’s the type to mobilize the regular army.“
“During the Emperor’s birthday gala?“
“He has his moments.“
Ivelin had always assumed Seren was the only sane one in Kite’s inner circle, but apparently, birds of a feather flocked together. After a brief hesitation, she nodded.
“Write down what you want to say on a piece of paper. I’ll make sure it gets delivered.“
“And how exactly do you plan on delivering it?“
“Oh, you know. Somehow.“
Kite was curious about her methods, but her vague response made it clear she wasn’t sharing her secrets.
“Fine. Give me a pen and paper.“
Moments later, a short sentence and a sharp signature were scrawled across the crisp white parchment. Ivelin took the note and slowly pulled the empty tray back toward herself.
“By the way,” Kite called out, a wry smirk playing on his lips, “when do you plan on entertaining me?“
“I just fed you a delicious meal.“
“It wasn’t quite delicious enough to elevate my mood.“
“Would you like me to bring you a book, then?“
“Why? To bring me another piece of smut?“
“No! No!” Ivelin waved her hands frantically, her face flushing crimson. “That was a complete mistake! I had no idea that’s what it was!“
Regaining her composure, she huffed. “Just tell me what kind of book you actually like, and I’ll find it.“
“In that case, fetch me a copy of ‘Olga’s Defense Matrices and their Correlation to Sword Qi.’“
“That sounds incredibly rare and impossible to find, doesn’t it?“
Kite merely offered a silent, knowing smile.
Wow, what a contrarian. She was risking her neck to keep him safe, and he repaid her by being thoroughly obnoxious at every turn.
Ivelin backed out of the room and let the door shut with a sharp slam. It was a bit loud, but she doubted he’d complain.
“Right then,” she sighed, looking down at the parchment in her hand. “How am I supposed to deliver this?“
Repaying a debt, she realized, was exhausting work.
Seren’s usually immaculate hair was thrown back into a messy, utilitarian ponytail. The dark circles bruising the skin beneath his eyes spoke volumes of his sleepless nights.
He had mobilized every available asset to comb through the capital, yet Kite’s trail remained cold. The person responsible for this abduction was no ordinary criminal. As Seren stared grimly at the map of the capital, a teacup was gently placed on the desk beside him.
“Sir Seren, perhaps you should take a moment to rest?“
It was Alex.
“Now is not the time to rest.“
“But wandering blindly through the streets won’t solve this either. You haven’t slept in days.“
“I can handle this much.” Seren was a seasoned swordsman; even if he hadn’t reached the apex of a Sword Master, his stamina far exceeded normal limits. He was fatigued, sure, but resting felt like a luxury he couldn’t afford.
“See? What did I tell you? Sir Seren isn’t going to change his mind.“
Lessen’s mocking voice drifted from the doorway, his tone dripping with its usual cynicism.
“Do you always have to speak like that?!” Alex snapped, turning to reprimand him.
Thwack!
A sharp, vibrating hiss cut through the air.
Seren bolted upright, his hand instinctively dropping to his side. Alex drew his sword in a seamless blur and lunged out the door into the corridor. Meanwhile, Lessen stood frozen, staring blankly at the arrow embedded in the wall mere inches from his shoulder.
“Well, well…” Lessen muttered.
Whatever material the arrow was forged from, it had pierced cleanly through the window glass and buried itself deep into the solid masonry.
“There’s a note tied to the shaft,” Lessen observed, pulling the arrow free from the wall and handing it over. “I’ll let you handle it.“
Seren unraveled the tightly wound parchment from the shaft. As the paper flattened, a starkly familiar handwriting came into view.
[ Safe. Stay quiet. — Kite ]
Seren recognized the handwriting instantly. It was undeniably Kite’s.
“Sir Kite?“
While Seren meticulously scrutinized every stroke of the pen to verify the authenticity, Alex returned to the room, breathing slightly heavily.
“I lost whoever shot it. They fled the moment the arrow left the bow.“
“You let them get away?” Lessen asked, raising an eyebrow.
“The shot came from an incredible distance, and they vanished like a ghost. I couldn’t close the gap in time.“
Seren rubbed his temples, trying to soothe the headache blooming behind his eyes. He knew every faction and asset under Kite’s command, and none of them possessed this specific brand of marksmanship. To pull off a shot like that and vanish without a trace required the finesse of a master assassin.
“I don’t like this.“
“Is it a forgery?” Alex asked anxiously.
“No, the handwriting is authentic. I mean I don’t understand the underlying game here.“
The Emperor’s birthday gala was a chaotic crucible. Dignitaries, merchants, and foreign elements were flooding into the capital by the thousands. And right in the middle of it, something was shifting in the shadows.
The public often dismissed Kite as a rabid dog, a brute who acted on impulse, but Seren knew better. Kite was a man of profound calculation. He willingly played the part of the foolish villain solely to bear the political burdens that would otherwise crush his nephew, the Emperor.
For a man like that to deliberately stay hidden meant only one thing: a storm was coming.
“It seems,” Seren said, his gaze dropping back to the short message, “we need to prepare ourselves for the worst.
