Kael Renforth gazed down at their fallen forms, his expression unreadable.
He could see it in their movements, their discipline—these were soldiers who had bled for their nation, men who had once fought for a righteous cause. Their only crime now was serving a man like Valen Malavant.
They did not deserve death.
But Valen?
Across the room, Valen Malavant trembled, his face ashen.
It was over.
One hundred armed men, three elite bodyguards—none could stop Kael Renforth.
"W-what are you doing? Don't come any closer!" Valen stammered, backing away as Kael approached. "My father is the Marquess of Malavant! The Denvair family owes us! You can't—"
Kael's footsteps didn't falter.
"Gideon Vortannis—my uncle!" Valen cried desperately. "You've heard of him, haven't you?"
Kael's expression didn't change. Valen's words fell on deaf ears.
Finally, in a panic, Valen blurted, "I'm a dog of the Silvervein family! You can't kill me!"
The mention of the Silverveins—a family with ties to the imperial throne itself—would have made lesser men pause.
Kael Renforth wasn't a lesser man.
As Valen shrank under Kael's unyielding gaze, fear overwhelmed him. His body betrayed him, a yellow puddle forming at his feet.
Kael knelt, picking up a blade from the floor. He pressed its edge against Valen's throat, the sharp steel biting into his skin.
"P-please," Valen begged, his voice barely a whisper. "I'll give you money... one billion... no, ten billion..."
Kael slapped him across the face, silencing him instantly. Blood dripped from Valen's mouth as he collapsed to the ground.
Kael's voice was calm, yet it carried an undeniable finality. "The Denvair family will reclaim what's theirs. And for your insolence today, you will pay the price."
Without hesitation, Kael stomped on Valen's kneecap.
"This is for scheming against the Denvair family."
Valen screamed in agony.
Another stomp.
"This is for dishonoring Celine and your vile intentions toward her."
Valen's shrieks echoed through the halls, but Kael wasn't done.
The final blow landed where it would hurt most.
"And this," Kael growled, "is for insulting Lyria."
With deliberate precision, Kael raised the blade.
"Stop!"
A thunderous voice interrupted.
Kael glanced up to see an elderly man rushing from the inner chambers, his face twisted in rage and desperation.
"You dare kill the heir of House Malavant? Do you know the price of your insolence?"
Kael's cold smile was his only response.
"I already killed him. What can you do about it?"
The blade fell.
Kael Renforth turned and walked away, his steps unhurried. He felt nothing for the life he had taken.
Behind him, the anguished wails of an old man filled the halls. Blood would demand blood.
But Kael Renforth did not fear vengeance.