As Kael Renforth walked away from the Malavant Marquisate House, a chorus of enraged cries echoed behind him. His expression remained calm and unshaken as he stepped through the grand gates into the dim evening light. Waiting beside a sleek black carriage was Eleanor Thorne, ever vigilant.
"Master," she said, her tone steady yet tinged with an undercurrent of fury. "Shall I finish the job and erase the entire Malavant family?"
Kael shook his head, dismissing the suggestion.
"I came back for a reason," he said firmly. "Making waves now will only complicate things. This isn't the time to show our full strength."
Though his words were measured, they carried an undeniable finality. Kael's focus wasn't on vengeance—at least not openly. His goal was far more calculated. The safety of the Denvair family came first, but to deal with the shadow of the Silvervein dynasty, subtlety was key.
"Let's go," he ordered, climbing into the carriage.
Meanwhile, chaos reigned within the Malavant house.
Elias Malavant, the Marquis himself, and his younger brother Enoc Malavant had returned to a scene of horror.
The body of Valen Malavant lay sprawled in the estate's grand hall, a grotesque display of blood and broken pride. The once lively space was suffused with an unnatural, suffocating silence.
"My son... Who killed my son?!" Elias bellowed, his voice cracking with anguish.
As one of Port Avallon's wealthiest nobles, Elias Malavant's wealth and influence spanned far beyond imagination. Yet even his immense power could not shield him from the devastating sight of his only heir lying lifeless before him. Staggering under the weight of grief, he collapsed, unconscious.
Enoc Malavant, Valen's uncle and the city's undisputed overlord of its underground, stood motionless. His sharp, calculating eyes scanned the room, taking in every detail.
"Who dared?" he hissed, his voice a low growl of menace.
"It was two of them," the elderly patriarch of the family explained, trembling. "They came to our home, slaughtered Valen in front of a hundred men, and left as if nothing had happened."
The blood drained from Enoc's face. Two people—just two—had openly challenged the Malavant family and walked away unscathed. It was unthinkable.
After a long, tense silence, Enoc made his decision.
"Summon Deven," he ordered, his voice cold and unwavering.
Moments later, a hulking man nearly seven feet tall entered the room, his imposing figure radiating an aura of raw power.
"Take five hundred men," Enoc commanded. "Hunt them down. Bring me their heads. Let their deaths be a tribute to my nephew. Leave no trace of them behind."
"Understood, sir," Deven replied, bowing before departing to carry out his orders.
The news of Valen Malavant's death spread like wildfire across Port Avallon, reaching the Denvair estate in record time.
"What?! Valen Malavant is dead?" Celine Denvair exclaimed. For a moment, her shock gave way to unrestrained joy. "Serves him right! That scum deserved it!"
The young woman's relief was palpable. Valen had harassed her relentlessly, leaving her with nothing but contempt for the spoiled noble.
But while Celine celebrated, her grandmother's expression grew grim.
Valen's death was no simple matter. He had been the Malavant family's pride and sole heir. With his death, Elias and Enoc would undoubtedly seek retribution—potentially at the cost of the entire Denvair household.
Cold sweat beaded on the elderly woman's brow as the weight of their predicament bore down on her.
Perhaps, she thought, the only way to protect the Denvair name now was for Lyria to marry into the powerful Silvervein family.
Just as she was about to voice her concerns, Kael Renforth strode into the main hall.
Kael's steps slowed as he laid eyes on Lyria Denvair for the first time in years. His wife, his anchor, the woman he had vowed to protect—she was finally within reach.
But what he saw wrenched his heart. Her once radiant face was pale and weary, a ghost of the vibrant woman he remembered. For all the battles he had fought and won, nothing had ever made him tremble like this.
"Lyria…" he whispered, his voice almost breaking.
Before he could speak further, the matriarch's sharp, disapproving voice cut through the air.
"You worthless fool! Why have you returned? Don't you see the Malavant family will hunt you down for this?" she snapped.
The bitterness in her words was unmistakable. Kael Renforth, once dismissed as the Denvair family's useless son-in-law, had brought danger to their doorstep.
But something about him was different now. Even Lyria, who had long stopped hoping for a change in him, couldn't shake the feeling.
Kael's calm gaze met hers, steady and resolute. For the first time in years, she felt a glimmer of the strength and power he once promised her.