The blade met Verathian with a clang, like steel screaming in protest.

Alex, who had stopped the attack, didn’t move—not in the slightest.

He was there, in front of Zahara. He was faster than the serpent-masked attacker could blink; his body had shifted through space like a pulse of thought.

His hand held Verathian in a reverse grip, intercepting the second slash with such calm force that it cracked the attacker’s stance completely.

Time seemed to have slowed down.

The attacker twisted unnaturally, blades moving in tandem like liquid shadow. But Alex was already there again, moving before the thought of a counter could even form.

His elbow struck the man’s gut with the precision of a hammer against a gong. That strike made the attacker’s lungs get emptied.

Before the masked figure could recover, Alex spun low, swept his legs out, and sent the man crashing onto the mossy ground with a brutal thud.

Bahir and Kael were still moving—hands halfway to weapons, shock pinning their instincts down.

By the time they lunged forward, it was already over.

Alex had the man pinned with one knee on his chest, Verathian’s edge glowing like the promise of death just beneath his chin.

The attacker’s limbs were twitching, a low groan seeping from behind the serpent mask.

Bound.

Done.

In seconds.

Kael blinked slowly, his hand still on the hilt of his sword. “…What?”

Bahir’s mouth opened slightly, but no words came. He looked at the man on the ground. Then at Alex. Then back again. “What just happened?”

“I believe you were attacked,” Alex said casually, not even out of breath. “Handled it for you.”

Zahara hadn’t moved either. She hadn’t needed to. She gave Alex a warm look and said nothing, but the pride in her eyes shimmered like starlight on a lake.

Mira and Lilia nodded to themselves, unsurprised, while Sophie smiled faintly, watching Kael and Bahir’s faces as realization bloomed.

“You’re… fast,” Kael muttered. “Like, really fast.”

Alex glanced at him. “You thought I was just a pretty face?”

“No, but… that was a Star Connection expert,” Bahir said quietly. “He’s one of ours. His name’s Rannir. He’s strong. Not elite, but trained. He’s never lost in the sparring pits.”

Alex tilted his head, gaze still locked on the bound man. “Not elite anymore, then.”

Rannir groaned again and stirred.

His limbs twitched beneath the spell-bindings Mira had cast with a flick of her fingers the moment the fight ended. The shadows wrapped around him like iron snakes.

His voice came out slurred, hollow. “…Wha… what happened?”

Zahara knelt near him, cautious but calm. “You attacked me. Tried to take my head off.”

Rannir’s eyes, barely visible behind the mask, widened. “What? No—no, I didn’t. That’s not—” he stopped, wincing in pain. “I… I don’t remember attacking anyone. I swear. The last thing I recall is standing watch near the eastern marker stone. Then… I woke up like this.”

“Mind control?” Lilia asked, already scanning the man with a few magic pulses.

“I can’t sense any mana linked through his head,” she said after a pause. “No binding curses either. If someone did control him, they didn’t leave a magical signature behind.”

After gaining her inheritance, she became sharp when sensing anything related to the mind, as her skills mainly focused on that department.

“That takes skill,” Sophie murmured. “Or… a trigger embedded so deep it doesn’t register as a spell.”

Bahir crouched down. “Rannir. Why are you even here? I thought you were stationed at the border?”

Rannir looked confused, then ashamed. “I was… reassigned. A month ago. By one of the court clerks. I was told to blend in, keep tabs on anyone acting suspicious, and report. Nothing else. No combat.”

The atmosphere tensed as this topic was brought up.

The court.

They were related to the nobles.

Yes, they did work for the princes, but they supported the nobles.

His words made one thing clear: the nobles weren’t even trying to hide it anymore.

Kael frowned deeply. “And who gave that order?”

Rannir was quiet.

Then: “A man named Solhan. He said he worked under one of the princes. I didn’t question it.”

Rannir never betrayed Kael or Bahir. He didn’t know what he was doing.

Bahir and Kael exchanged looks, tension running between them like a live wire.

Alex’s expression darkened. “So let me get this straight. Someone embedded a spy into your trusted people, and now, when you planned this function, they did all this by doing something to one of your subordinates?”

Rannir’s body jerked again, struggling. “I wouldn’t—I wouldn’t hurt Zahara. She’s my sister.”

Alex didn’t say anything to that.

He knew they weren’t the ones to be blamed.

He could tell they weren’t lying.

For a while, none of them said anything until Kael broke the silence.

He sighed, rubbing his temples. “Okay. This went from an awkward family reunion to a noble-spun conspiracy in, like, five minutes.”

Lilia rolled her eyes. “Welcome to politics.”

“I don’t get it,” Mira finally said, her voice soft but clear. “Why risk exposing a plant this soon? They could’ve just listened for months.”

She didn’t speak much, but when she did, it was something no one would want to avoid.

Sophie nodded. “Unless the attack wasn’t the plan.”

Everyone looked at her.

“It might have been a test,” she continued. “To see what happens when Zahara returns. To see who protects her. Or maybe… just to make her disappear.”

Zahara’s expression hardened. “If this came from one of the prince’s circles, it wasn’t random. They knew I was coming. They knew I’d be with people.”

Alex looked at the restrained Rannir again, his fingers tightening slightly. “Then they underestimated us.”

Kael whistled low. “You’re really strong, huh?”

Alex shrugged. “Let’s just say… most Star Connection experts don’t last long against me anymore.”

Bahir gave him a long look. “Noted.”

Rannir groaned again. “I swear… I didn’t know. I’m not a traitor. Please…”

Zahara stood. “I believe him.”

“So do I,” Alex added. “Which means someone else is pulling the strings.”

Kael rose and clapped his hands. “Alright. No more games. We need to regroup. Find out who exactly this Solhan is and how deep this goes.”

“Agreed,” Bahir said. “And we’ll keep Rannir under watch for now—someplace safe.”

Alex sheathed Verathian. “Let’s move, then. Quietly.”

They would take care of things that needed to be done.

Alex came here to do this anyway.

His main goal was to ensure that this kingdom was safe for Zahara.

……………

Somewhere in Simharian.

The room was dark, lit only by the soft blue glow of a crystal embedded in the center of the ceiling.

Its light was faint, diffused through layers of enchanted glass, casting no clear shadows, but enough to show the vague outlines of the figures seated in a loose circle.

Six of them.

All were silent for a moment.

Then the voice of the one seated at the far left broke the hush. Male. Smooth. Too calm.

“So, the attempt failed.”

Another voice followed, clipped and sharp, clearly female. “No. It didn’t fail. It revealed.”

A third scoffed. “Semantics. Rannir was supposed to observe, not draw blades in public.”

“You assume ‘he’ chose to act,” a rasping voice countered. “You saw the results. Controlled. Used. And discarded.”

“That doesn’t change what happened,” said a fifth figure, voice low, tired. “One of our men, who we could’ve used later, was made impossible to be used again.”

There was a long pause. Tension coiled thick in the space between them.

“She was supposed to be alone,” said the smooth-voiced man again. “The records showed she favored isolation. The desert wolf doesn’t run with a pack.”

“She brought monsters this time,” the woman replied. “Did you see how fast he moved? That was no ordinary retainer.”

“She brought him,” a sixth voice finally said, speaking for the first time. It was deep. Measured. “The famous boy from Originveil.”

Another bout of silence before it was broken.

“…We underestimated,” the calm one admitted.

“No,” the rasping one corrected. “You underestimated. I told you—he was a variable. He wasn’t on any records. I told you we should be careful when dealing with him.”

“We need to make new plans,” said the smooth voice, a flicker of irritation rising beneath it. “That Alex… he’s dangerous. Strong. Perhaps stronger than anyone in her circle before.”

“And loyal,” said the fifth. “That’s the problem. He didn’t hesitate. He didn’t flinch. He made it personal.”

“Then we make it personal, too,” the woman snapped. “We shift the play. If brute force won’t remove her, we apply pressure elsewhere.”

“You would risk a civil fracture?” Asked the deep voice.

“No. But we let fear seep in. Let whispers of instability rise. Assassination attempts breed questions. Let the people doubt. Let the court waver.”

“Still,” the rasping voice said. “We need to know what triggered Rannir. It wasn’t random. It was too precise.”

The crystal above them pulsed once, dimmer now as if tired of their games.

“Solhan won’t speak,” the deep voice added. “He’s vanished.”

There was another silence. Longer this time.

Finally, the smooth-voiced man leaned forward, just enough for his silhouette to tilt toward the center. “Then we proceed with caution. And speed. Zahara must not be allowed to establish roots. She’s already growing too comfortable. Her allies are dangerous. That boy… that Alex… is dangerous.”

“And if we misstep again?”

He chuckled, slow and without humor. “Then we make sure next time… we don’t miss.”

The crystal light flickered once more.

Then darkness returned.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep