The upstairs of the inn, the hallway was quiet.

Kaelen stood outside a room. She raised her hand to knock, hesitated, then lowered it. She took a deep breath, smoothed her dress, and finally knocked.

“Come in.”

Ray’s voice came through the wood.

She opened the door.

Ray was sitting at the small desk by the window. He wasn’t sleeping. He was staring at nothing, his eyes unfocused, reviewing the date of the ledger.

“You should be sleeping,”

Ray said, turning to face her.

“We still have a long journey tomorrow.”

“I couldn’t,”

Kaelen admitted, stepping inside and closing the door. She looked small in the dim light. The 3rd-Circle Adept and the haughty merchant’s daughter were gone; in her place was a survivor trying to find her footing.

“You promised,”

she said softly.

“You said you’d teach me to be a player.”

“I did,”

Ray nodded.

“Are you ready to learn?”

Kaelen opened her mouth, but the words died in her throat. She looked down at her hands.

“Is he… do you think I can see my father again?”

The question hung in the air.

Ray looked at her. He could lie to her, He could tell her that miracles happen, that Titus knew the Iron-Wake City better than anyone, that there was a chance he slipped away in the chaos.

Healer: “Don’t give her the sugar pill. False hope is gangrene. It feels better now, but it rots the soul from the inside out. If you lie to her, you aren’t protecting her; you’re infecting her.”

The World Weary Healer grumbled, his voice sounding like gravel and old antiseptic. Its presence was heavy, clinical, and unforgiving.

Veteran: “The Doc is right, Titus Thorne didn’t run. He stayed behind to save his people against overwhelming odds. Don’t cheapen a man’s sacrifice with fairy tales. Give him the honor of the truth.”

The Grizzled Veteran nodded, his tone grim but respectful.

Ray listened. The clinical diagnosis and the soldier’s respect merged into a singular, hard resolve.

“You know that the Argent Hand doesn’t leave loose ends, Kaelen,”

Ray said gently but firmly.

“Your father stayed behind to organize the evacuation, he made himself a stationary target in a kill zone. The odds are near zero.”

Kaelen squeezed her eyes shut, a tear escaping. She nodded jerkily, her breath hitching as the truth burned.

“He bought something with his life, Kaelen,”

Ray continued, his voice steady, applying the necessary pressure to stop the emotional bleeding.

“He bought the people of Iron-Wake City a chance to live. And he bought you the time to sit in this room and ask that question. Don’t waste his purchase.”

Kaelen wiped her face with her sleeve. She took a shuddering breath, forcing herself to focus. She walked to the window, looking out at the busy street below.

“Your brother, Corbin. How has he been?”

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

She said, changing the subject abruptly.

“He was sent to the Northern Citadel there for training,”

Ray calmly answered.

“He was sent to the Northern Citadel?”

Kaelen’s voice trembled.

“Before we arrived here… in the carriage, you said that Viscount Morales who controls the Citadel is on the Hands payroll.”

She turned to look at Ray, her eyes wide with horror.

“My father paid him. The money he made… the money that bought my dresses and my jewelry, my everything.. it was used to buy off this noble and have Null-Alloy armor and weapons be stockpiled in the Citadel.”

She looked sick.

“My family helped pay for the blade that might be at your brother’s throat right now.”

Ray stood up. He crossed the room in two strides and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Stop.”

Ray said, his voice low but firm.

“But…”

“Don’t do this.”

Ray looked her in the eye.

“We are not responsible for the sins of our fathers, Kaelen. We are only responsible for how we can make it right.”

He squeezed her shoulder gently.

“Corbin is a Croft. He’s stubborn, he’s arrogant, and he’s smart. He won’t go down easily. And if he is in danger, guilt won’t save him. Strategy and action will.”

Ray felt a cold spike of worry in his own gut, Corbin was indeed in the viper’s nest, but he pushed it down. He couldn’t afford to worry now.

“Now,”

Ray said, stepping back and shifting the energy in the room.

“You wanted to be a player right? So let’s discuss the challenge in front of us. The Headmaster.”

Kaelen straightened up, grateful for the change of topic. She wiped her face again, composing herself.

“How confident are you?”

Ray asked.

“In facing her.”

“The Headmaster?”

Kaelen hesitated.

“I’ve never spoken to her directly. I’ve seen her at assemblies. She… she’s intimidating. She stares at the students like they are unruly children. I’m maybe… fifty percent confident I can get her to listen.”

Ray shook his head.

“Fifty percent is a failing grade, Kaelen. In high-stakes politics, fifty percent means you’re dead.”

He paced the small room.

“When you walk into that office, you cannot be a student begging for help. You cannot be a victim looking for charity. If you do that, she will pity you, pat you on the head, and take the ledger. And then you lose your leverage.”

Ray stopped and turned to her.

“You have to be like your father, a merchant. You have to be selling a cure for a disease she didn’t know she had. You need to identify her fear and offer her the solution.”

“I… I don’t know if I can do that.”

Kaelen admitted, her voice small.

“You don’t have to worry,”

Ray said softly.

“I will give you a tool you need to help you.”

He stepped closer.

“Close your eyes.”

Kaelen looked at him, confused, but she obeyed. She closed her eyes.

Ray raised his hand and placed a finger on Kaelen’s forehead.

System, Impart Scheming Courtier’s ‘Leveraged Negotiation’ skill to Understudy, Kaelen Thorne.

The system responded instantly.

[UNDERSTUDY PROTOCOL ACTIVE. IMPARTING SKILL: Scheming Courtier’s ‘LEVERAGED NEGOTIATION’ TO KAELEN HAWTHORNE.]

[WARNING SIGNIFICANT COGNITIVE STAMINA COST INCURRED.]

For Kaelen, it didn’t feel like magic. It felt like a drop of ice water trickling down her spine.

The grief and the fear didn’t disappear, but they were suddenly… pushed aside. A new perspective filled her mind. It was cold. It was cynical. It was sharp as a razor.

It was a perspective that looked at the world not as a tragedy, but as a marketplace.

Emotions are liabilities.

a voice whispered in her thoughts.

Desperation is a currency. Find what they need. Withhold it. Name your price.

The feeling washed over her, settling into her bones. She felt her posture shift. Her spine straightened. The tremor in her hands stopped.

Ray pulled his hand back, and the world tilted.

It has been a while since he had imparted a skill, and he is reminded of the significant mental strain it takes to do it. A spike of white-hot migraine pierced his temples, the backlash of grafting a complex mental framework onto another person’s psyche.

He slumped heavily onto the edge of the desk, his vision swimming with black spots. His hand went instinctively to his belt pouch, fumbling for a nutrient bar, a dense, dry brick of nuts and honey.

He tore the wrapper with his teeth and took a large bite, chewing rapidly.

The Crimson Weaver’s ‘Neural Gastronomy’ skill immediately kicked in. The effect was instant. He didn’t just taste the sweetness; he felt the caloric energy being stripped from the food and shunted directly to his nervous system. The glucose hit his bloodstream like a potion. The fog in his mind cleared, the migraine dissolving into a dull throb, then vanishing entirely.

“Open your eyes.”

Ray breathed out, the color returning to his face.

Kaelen opened them.

She watched him finishing the bar with focused intensity. She had seen him do this before, consuming food like fuel immediately after performing a miracle. She blinked, a flicker of surprise crossing her face, but she didn’t ask. She just accepted it as the price of the power he wielded.

Ray watched her carefully. For a split second, the girl looking back at him wasn’t Kaelen Thorne. Her eyes were narrower, colder. She looked at Ray, and he could see her assessing him, not as a friend, but as an asset. Calculating his value. Measuring his utility.

Then she blinked, and the warmth returned, though the steel remained in her spine.

“Whoa,”

Kaelen whispered, looking at her hands.

“That was… cold.”

“This tool I gave you…It will allow you to instinctively identify an opponent’s hidden desperation and exploit it.”

Ray explained

He sat back on the edge of the desk.

“When you walk into that office, you won’t just see the Headmaster. You will see her pressure points. You will see what she fears losing. And you will know exactly how to use the Ledger to buy her protection.”

Kaelen took a deep breath. She looked different now. The distraught survivor was gone, replaced by someone dangerous.

“How do you feel?”

Ray asked.

Kaelen looked up at him, a faint, sharp smile touching her lips.

“Like I can see the strings.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep