The night sky burned red.
From the west wing of the manor, Kael could already see the blaze tearing through the old tower—the one that held the family's ancestral records. Flames licked at stone that had stood for over three centuries, heat warping the sigils etched into its face. House Viremont's legacy was being erased one brick at a time.
Kael's boots slammed against marble as he ran down the corridor, sword unsheathed and blood already cooling along its edge. The halls were soaked in smoke and silence—worse than screaming.
"Lira!" he shouted.
No answer.
He hated how quiet this massacre was. Whoever attacked them, they weren't here for a war. They were here for a clean execution. No warnings. No survivors.
He turned a corner and stumbled—there, slumped against the wall, was Ser Vonn. The knight's chestplate had been caved in, blood running in thick rivulets from his mouth and eyes. No scorch marks. No arrows.
Just… crushed.
Kael didn't stop to mourn. There wasn't time for that. He ducked into the servants' passage behind the tapestry—one of the old hidden routes his mother used to sneak sweets to the kitchen staff. As he moved, his mind tore through the faces of the High Table.
Who? Who had the reach to do this?
Not the common houses. Not alone.
Some of the High Houses had whispered for years that Viremont's bloodline had grown too strong—too fast. His father's breakthroughs with dungeontech, Kael's early awakening, and the rumors of what Lira might become…
Someone got scared.
He reached the lower levels just in time to hear stone crumble behind him. A tremor shook the floor—short and sharp, like a shockwave. It wasn't natural.
It was a relic being used in combat. Close.
Kael's chest tightened.
The vault wasn't far from here. That meant whoever was inside the manor wanted more than just blood.
He reached the door to the hidden study and shoved it open. "Lira!"
She flinched as the door slammed, rising from behind the desk with wide eyes. Her small hands were clutching a dagger far too large for her.
Relief hit Kael like a punch. "You're alright," he breathed.
"I—I didn't know where you went. They came in through the walls. The guards—"
"I know." He crossed the room in two strides and pulled her into his arms. "I'm here now. We need to move."
She nodded, stiff and pale, but her fingers clung to his coat like a lifeline.
He always sounds calm when things are falling apart, she thought, though her mind screamed every time stone cracked nearby. But I can hear it in his voice. He's afraid too.
Kael pulled back and looked her over. Her pendant—the one their mother gave her—was glowing faintly. That wasn't normal.
"What happened?"
"It… it started glowing when they came. And I heard something. A voice."
Kael's jaw clenched. He didn't have time to unpack that now, but deep down, he knew what it meant. The relic was waking up. Probably locked until her Awakening. Which meant—
They had very little time.
"I need you to follow me," he said, grabbing one of the heavy cloaks from the wall. "We're going through the old aqueduct tunnel."
"Where does it go?"
"Out. That's all you need to know."
He pulled the cloak over her head and secured the clasp. She looked like a wraith in mourning—small, scared, draped in black.
The door behind them exploded.
Kael didn't think—he turned, sword drawn, stepping in front of Lira as the smoke cleared.
Three figures emerged from the hallway. Not soldiers. Not assassins either.
Hunters.
They wore black, their armor dull and layered like scales. No sigils, no ranks—just the cold, efficient menace of killers who didn't need to be identified.
One of them tilted his head.
"So it's true," the man said, voice metallic behind his helm. "The boy lives."
Kael didn't answer. He couldn't afford a conversation.
"You were supposed to die upstairs," the hunter continued, stepping forward. "But I suppose I should thank you. It saves me the trouble."
Kael moved.
The first strike was low—a feint. The hunter dodged easily, but that was fine. Kael wasn't aiming to win. He just needed an opening.
His blade deflected the counterstrike, his feet shifting on instinct. A second hunter lunged, and Kael parried. Steel rang against steel. Sparks lit the smoke.
Lira didn't scream. She just crouched low, covering her head like he told her.
A flash of pain bloomed in Kael's side. A shallow cut. One of the hunters was faster than expected. He twisted, rolled, came up again.
The pendant around Lira's neck began to hum.
Not glow—hum.
Kael heard it even through the chaos. A deep, resonant vibration that seemed to crawl along the walls.
The hunter noticed it too. He froze.
"Wait. The girl—"
Kael didn't wait.
He lunged with everything he had, blade flashing upward, driving it through the man's neck before he could finish the sentence. Blood sprayed across the stone.
The second hunter backed off. "She's bonded. We were told she hadn't—"
Kael didn't give him a second chance.
By the time the last one fell, his breathing was ragged, arms shaking. Blood pooled beneath the broken furniture.
He turned to Lira. She hadn't moved.
But her pendant had stopped humming.
"Come on," he said quietly, lifting her to her feet. "We're not dying here."