Chapter 388: The Hidden Board

WHOOSH.

Kael’s consciousness slammed back into his physical body. The transition from the timeless expanse of the Astral Void Realm to the freezing, mana-dense air of Vaelor was jarring. He opened his eyes, the silver flecks in his irises glowing faintly in the dim light of his private chambers.

He stood up as he felt so different with his soul power now at the peak Soul Condensation.

Splash.

He drew a hot bath, the steaming water infused with rare herbs and frost-lotus petals. He sank into the tub, the heat seeping into his muscles, washing away the tension of five months of relentless cultivation.

After the bath, he dressed in simple, dark robes.

CREEEAK.

Kael stepped onto the grand balcony of the Royal Palace. The night air of Snowfall was biting, the winds howling through the frost-iron spires. He looked down at the city, his newly expanded 300-meter soul sense sweeping outward like an invisible tidal wave.

BZZT.

He immediately detected multiple figures observing the palace from the distance. Spies, assassins and scouts alike from the other kingdoms. They were scattered across the rooftops and alleys, their auras suppressed, but not suppressed enough to escape his soul sense. Afterall, no one would expect there was a peak Soul condensation cultivator on Vaelor.

But one aura caught his attention.

It was distinct and much denser than the other insignificant spies. Hidden within the lower district.

Kael’s eyes narrowed. Who is that? He wondered. Alaric said the other kingdoms have more than two Origin Realm cultivators. Is this an assassin sent for me?

FWOOSH.

He activated the Shadow Veil, his presence vanishing entirely. He leaped off the balcony, his body turning into a phantom as he glided through the night sky.

He tracked the aura to a run-down bar in the lower district—a grimy establishment called The Frozen Flagon.

Kael landed silently in the alley beside it and slipped inside. CREEEAK. The stench of cheap ale, sweat, and unwashed bodies assaulted his senses.

He spotted the source of the aura immediately. A man sitting at a corner table, nursing a chipped mug of ale. He was dressed as a traveling merchant, wearing thick, patched furs, with a heavy coin purse at his belt.

Kael’s Spirit Eyes activated. BZZT.

Beneath the merchant’s disguise, he saw the man’s true cultivation—Mid Origin Realm. And beneath the collar of his furs, a small, familiar insignia was stitched into the fabric.

The Vorn Family crest.

Kael’s lips curled into a cold smirk. So, Greyson sent someone to watch me. Or maybe Ursula. Perhaps even Cassandra, just to keep tabs.

He considered killing the knight, but dismissed the thought. No. If he doesn’t interfere with my plans, I have no reason to fight him. A missing knight would only draw more attention.

Kael turned and slipped out of the bar, his Shadow Veil still intact.

As he flew back to the palace, another figure emerged from the shadows of the bar’s back alley.

Rustle.

A woman with flowing black hair and crimson eyes stepped into the moonlight. Queen Seraphina of Crimsonia. She was dressed in a sleek, dark travel cloak, her vampiric aura suppressed to the absolute limit.

Sigh. She exhaled in relief, her hand resting against the wall for support. Her heart pounded in her chest.

He didn’t sense me, she thought, her eyes wide. Thank the ancestors. I thought he came for me.

She had been observing the palace for days, trying to gauge the strength of the mysterious demon who had conquered two kingdoms. She had been in the bar, hiding in the shadows, when Kael entered.

So he’s really just a mid Spirit Soul cultivator, she mused. And who was the other Mid Origin Realm cultivator? This is getting complicated.

She replayed the moment Kael’s soul sense had swept over her. It had been terrifying. If she hadn’t used her Blood Shadow Concealment technique, she would have been discovered.

A Spirit Soul cultivator who can command an Origin Realm beast, defeat two Origin Realm kings, and now possesses a soul sense that almost caught me... She shook her head, a cold shiver running down her spine. What is he? A demon from the abyss? A hermit from a hidden sect?

She turned and vanished into the night, deciding to return to Crimsonia. I need to prepare. If he comes for my kingdom, I won’t be caught off guard.

The Next Day, The Royal Court.

Kael sat on the throne of Snowfall, his posture relaxed, his eyes cold.

Flanking him were King Bjorn and King Alaric, both standing with hollow, obedient expressions. The First General stood behind them, his massive frame still and silent.

Before the throne, the Pillar Knights—Garrick, Selene, Caelum, Ferris, and Soren—stood at attention. The mind-controlled nobles filled the hall, their eyes vacant.

Kael leaned forward. "The time has come to conquer Elenoir."

The nobles murmured, their hollow voices echoing through the hall.

"The Elven Kingdom is the most magically attuned of the five kingdoms," Kael continued. "Their archers can pierce through standard armor with enchanted arrows. Their forest terrain is heavily fortified. Every tree is a watchtower, every leaf a potential hiding spot. They will be a much harder nut to crack than the human kingdoms."

Alaric stepped forward. "My Lord, there is another complication. Unlike Dawn and Britannia, the stronger kingdoms—Crimsonia and Fangmoor—possess more than two Origin Realm cultivators each. If Elenoir is similar..."

Garrick grunted. "But we now have four Origin Realm cultivators on our side. Bjorn, Alaric, Varkos, and the First General of Britannia."

Bjorn shook his head. "The Elven Queen, Aelithra Tauriel, was already at the Origin Rank 3 when I last saw her eight years ago. She is likely at the Mid Origin Realm now. Possibly even higher. I and Alaric will have to fight her together to be able to keep up."

The hall fell silent.

Everyone turned to Kael.

Kael sat perfectly still, his fingers drumming against the ice-cold armrest. Tap. Tap. Tap. His eyes were cold, calculating, devoid of any warmth.

"Does she care about her people?" Kael asked, his voice a dangerous whisper.

The question hung in the air, a dark omen of what was to come.

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

Which character do you think deserves a dedicated side story? Drop your answers in the comment.