The carriage rattled over the cobbled streets of Greyspire as Kael listened intently to Princess Elira and her younger sister, Lyanna, recounting the significance of the upcoming annual event in the Mining Capital.
"This isn't just a festival or trade gathering," Elira explained, her tone serious. "It commemorates the founding of the Mining Capital and honors the legacy of its founder—someone who mastered not one, but three legendary skills: Weaponsmithing, Ore Processing, and Weapon Enchantment."
Kael's first thought immediately went to Branik, the legendary dwarf he had known—a master craftsman and war veteran. But he caught himself before asking; the timeline didn't match.
"You said the founder is…?" Kael inquired, voice calm but probing, trying to piece together the puzzle.
Lyanna looked at him, expression unreadable. "He… passed away seven hundred and fifty years ago."
Kael's eyebrows rose imperceptibly behind his mask. That cleared the confusion. Branik, even with his extended lifespan, was barely a century old. The founder must have been someone entirely different. He remained silent, not revealing that he had even thought of Branik—there was no need to complicate matters.
As the carriage continued its journey, Sara leaned closer, her voice soft and barely audible, a whisper meant only for Kael.
"So… fiancée, huh?" she murmured, teasing.
Kael glanced at her, mask concealing any reaction. "Does that mean you don't like him?"
Her face immediately flustered beneath the mask, heat rising to her ears. She fumbled with the edge of her cloak, nearly tipping the carriage lantern. "N-No! I—I didn't mean it like that!"
Kael let the corner of his eyes trace her expression. Her embarrassment was clear, but it brought a small sense of amusement behind his mask. He didn't comment further, letting her stew in silence as the carriage rolled onward.
The road ahead was long, and the event awaited—one that would test alliances, reveal ancient legacies, and pull Kael deeper into the political and martial webs of the Mining Capital.
But for now, the whispers and flustered exchanges between him and Sara were a brief reprieve from the weight of strategy and war, a reminder of the life he sought to protect alongside those who had come to rely on him.
The journey was far from over, but Greyspire receded behind them, and the Mining Capital's secrets awaited.
The grand gates of the Mining Capital loomed ahead, carved from steel-reinforced stone and engraved with centuries-old runes that shimmered faintly under the sun. Smoke from the forges and the metallic scent of the mines filled the air, mingling with the sound of hammering and the distant rumble of carts laden with ore.
Kael's carriage rolled through the bustling streets, flanked by the two princesses, Elira and Lyanna, who rode without masks, their presence commanding attention and respect. Behind Kael, Sara remained silent, her female mask perfectly concealing any expression, though her body was taut with anticipation.
The city's defenses were immediately apparent. Barricades of reinforced timber and stone lined the approach to the central square. Mage sentries hovered above, their enchanted weapons glinting in the sunlight, scanning for any potential threat. Archers stood atop high platforms, while golem units silently patrolled in formation, their metallic joints clicking with precise rhythm.
As the carriage neared the central plaza, the Mining Capital's nobles, mayoral officials, and the imposing figure of Duke Harrond—known across the empire as the Iron Fist—had already gathered to receive them. Harrond's sharp eyes, lined with years of command, scanned the approaching party with an unreadable expression, his gauntleted hands resting casually on the hilt of his ceremonial sword.
Kael noted all of this calmly. But before his arrival, his eyes had already extended through unseen means. His assassin leader and Umbra had been in the city for days, moving like shadows between alleyways and halls of influence, quietly observing the noble houses, the mayor's advisors, and even the Duke's personal guards. Every interaction, every subtle gesture, had been cataloged for anomalies, corruption, or secret agendas.
Two days before the scheduled event, Umbra had spotted something unusual near the preparation area of the main plaza. A man, dressed in the uniform of a minor noble but carrying tools and documents that suggested he was more than just an event coordinator, lingered far longer than necessary. His movements were careful, almost calculated, and he avoided the attention of the guards while frequently scanning the perimeter as though expecting someone—or something.
The assassin leader's report arrived just as Kael's carriage entered the square. "Master, we have a target of interest. He's near the northern perimeter of the event area. Behavior is suspicious; appears to be monitoring entrances and security patterns."
Kael's masked gaze narrowed. "Perfect. Keep eyes on him. Umbra, scan for any magical traces or contracts that could be influencing him. If he's planning anything, we'll know before the event even begins."
Sara stiffened slightly in the carriage beside him. "Do you think he's dangerous?" she whispered, voice low beneath her mask.
Kael's calm response came just as the carriage passed beneath the towering gates. "He might be. Or he might just be curious. Either way, I'll handle it before it becomes a problem."
The princesses noticed the tension but remained silent, their curiosity piqued by the calm control Kael exuded even in a city as fortified as the Mining Capital.
From their elevated vantage points, the nobles and officials could see the party entering the square, and murmurs swept through the crowd. The masked man at the carriage—Kael—was a mystery to them, his presence an unspoken authority that even Duke Harrond acknowledged with a subtle nod, though suspicion lingered in his sharp gaze.
Meanwhile, at the northern perimeter, the suspicious noble shuffled slightly, adjusting a satchel under his cloak. He sensed eyes on him, and a chill ran down his spine, though he could not see from where the scrutiny came.
Kael, still seated in the carriage, felt the faint disturbance through Umbra's senses. A faint ripple of magic, subtle but deliberate, emanating from the man. He spoke quietly, almost to himself, "Not just curious… testing boundaries. Interesting."
The Mining Capital, prepared for grandeur and celebration, was already unaware that shadows had moved ahead of the first steps of the visitors, and that the next two days would not be as ceremonial—or safe—as they anticipated.
Kael, his face still concealed behind his mask, walked just behind the princesses, keeping a respectful distance but scanning everything around with a predator's precision. Sara, masked and equally alert, mirrored his movements, her eyes subtly tracking any irregularities in the crowd. The two princesses, radiant and composed, moved forward with grace, exchanging courteous nods and bows with the Mining Capital's nobles, mayoral officials, and the imposing Duke Harrond.
"Your Highnesses, welcome to the Mining Capital," Harrond said formally, his deep voice carrying authority. "We are honored by your presence for this annual event." His gaze flicked briefly toward the masked Kael, lingering just long enough to note the air of command surrounding him.
Kael remained silent, letting the princesses carry the formalities. Behind the careful veneer of politeness, he was already assessing the city's defenses, patrol patterns, and the nobles' subtle gestures, logging everything in his mind. Sara's hand lightly brushed against his arm, signaling she had noticed something—something that didn't fit with the ceremonial reception.
Through the discreet network of eyes Kael had placed, Umbra and the assassin leader moved like shadows along the alleys. They were following the suspicious man identified two days prior. He moved with deliberate caution, eventually slipping into a narrow back alley that led away from the main thoroughfare. Umbra's whisper reached Kael almost telepathically: "He's moving off the planned route. I see another figure waiting at the far end. Parcel exchange imminent."
Kael's masked gaze sharpened. He sensed it before anyone confirmed: a faint, dark ripple of energy—abyssal in nature—flowing between the two men. It was subtle but unmistakable.
Sara's voice, low and edged with curiosity, murmured, "Abyss energy… It's flowing from the man receiving the parcel. Do you feel it?"
Kael's mind processed the information instantly. Yes… small but concentrated. Enough to disrupt normal magical readings if not handled carefully.
Umbra's confirmation crackled over the hidden channel, calm yet alert: "Confirmed, Master. The symbol on the parcel receiver is emitting minor Abyss energy. It's faint, but the signature is consistent with low-tier summoner contracts. Possibly preparing something bigger."
The assassin leader added, almost with a growl of anticipation, "He's not acting alone. That energy—there's a secondary presence reinforcing it. We're witnessing the preliminary stages of a ritual or transfer."
Kael's thoughts sharpened. This is exactly the kind of disruption I was anticipating… and it's closer to the event than anyone suspects.
As the princesses continued greeting the nobles, completely unaware of the covert activity behind them, Kael adjusted his stance slightly. He whispered to Sara, "We'll need to monitor this closely. The moment they attempt any significant abyssal ritual, we intervene. For now, let them underestimate us—they already have no idea who's truly watching."
Sara nodded subtly, her eyes flicking toward the alley where the suspicious man handed the parcel. The symbol on the man's chest pulsed faintly with the dark, chaotic energy of the Abyss, confirming Kael's instinct.
Kael's mind raced. If this escalates, the event could be a perfect trap… or worse, an attempt to summon something uncontrolled within the Mining Capital. We need all contingencies ready.
Behind the polished smiles and bows of diplomacy, a shadow war had already begun. And Kael, the masked observer, was the only one aware that the threads of chaos were weaving dangerously close to the heart of the city.