The city never truly slept, but tonight, Valenport throbbed with whispers. Secrets slithered through crooked alleyways like poison, infecting everything they touched. And I stood at the center of it, tangled in a game far larger than I'd imagined.
After the warehouse encounter, the truth hit me like a blade to the chest. The Silent Serpents weren't petty criminals. They were pawns in something far darker, a conspiracy stretching into every corner of the city. If I wanted to survive—or rise—I had to unravel it before it strangled me.
My rented room in the merchant district was cramped and dim, candlelight flickering over peeling wallpaper. Silence pressed against my skull like a vice. Rylas sat on the edge of the bed, eyes calculating, restless.
"We need information," I said, voice low but firm. "Not tavern rumors. I want the threads—who funds the Serpents, who commands them, and what their ultimate goal is."
Rylas nodded. "I have contacts. Smugglers, spies, even disgraced nobles. None of them clean. Everyone wants something. Trust is rarer than gold—and deadlier if mismanaged."
I rubbed the bridge of my nose. Trust had been my undoing once. I wouldn't repeat that mistake.
The city outside pulsed, indifferent: horses clattering, merchants shouting, guards pacing the streets. Life went on while the storm brewed beneath its surface.
"Then we start small," I said. "Find one weak link, and pull it."
Rylas's eyes gleamed. "Arlen Marvik. Merchant with ties to the underworld. Rumor says he's connected to the Serpents. If anyone can lead us to their masters, it's him."
I remembered the name from the warehouse intel: smooth-talking, ruthless, slippery as fish oil. Dealing with him would be walking through a den of vipers.
The next evening, I stood before his estate, looming at the merchant district's edge. Iron gates twisted into snarls, lanterns casting pools of sickly light across wet cobblestones. My cloak hugged my shoulders, hood drawn tight. Cold night pressed against my skin; each breath came sharp, scented with damp stone and distant smoke.
I stepped forward. Boots echoed like warnings. Shadows shifted at the edges of lantern light, unnaturally still. Soul Resonance thrummed beneath my skin, faint but insistent, making the darkness feel alive.
A pale butler answered my knock, eyes glinting with secrets. "Master Arlen is expecting you."
Minutes later, Arlen Marvik emerged, dressed in silks that shimmered like water. His smile was smooth but sharp, cutting edges hidden behind charm.
"Kael Draven," he said, voice polite but dangerous. "Unexpected to see you here."
"Cut the pleasantries," I said. "I want the Serpents. Who pulls their strings, and what's their goal?"
Arlen's smile widened. "Dangerous waters. The Serpents aren't mere cutthroats. They're political puppets, used by those who wish to see Valenport burn—and rebuild in their image."
"And you?" I asked, hand brushing the hilt of my sword beneath my cloak.
"I deal in opportunities," he said smoothly. "Information, favors… influence. Sometimes subtlety. Sometimes chaos."
A chill ran down my spine. Arlen thrived in shadows, and right now, the city's darkness flowed through him like blood.
"I need allies," I said. "To bring down the Serpents, I can't do this alone."
He chuckled. "Everyone needs allies, Kael. But beware—friends often hide daggers in Valenport."
The butler returned. "Master Arlen, your guests are arriving."
Through the tall windows, figures cloaked in black slipped inside. Faces hidden, presence radiating danger. The room thickened like fog, every breath weighted with threat.
This was no longer about information. This was a test.
Back in my room, silence pressed heavier than ever. Arlen's cryptic words echoed: deeper I dug, darker the city became. Retreat wasn't an option.
I lit incense, the sharp scent clawing at the tension in my chest. Soul Resonance pulsed beneath my skin, faintly vibrating against my nerves. Shadows shifted in corners, reacting to the rhythm of power I was still learning to control.
Revenge wasn't desire anymore—it was necessity. For my name. For my lost past. For the city I intended to claim.
Tomorrow, Rylas's contacts would lead me to the threads. Piece by piece, the Serpents' network would unravel. And with every pull, the city would inch closer to the truth.
I closed my eyes. The pulse steadied my breath. This was only the beginning.