The wind howled through the canyon, carrying the metallic scent of freshly spilled blood.
The Ironbloods lay scattered on the ground.
Dead. Defeated.
And yet, Kael still stood.
He could feel the piercing gaze of the golden-eyed man before him, studying him with a calm intensity that spoke volumes.
This wasn't just any band of killers.
They moved with precision, struck without hesitation, and—most importantly—they were hunting the Ironbloods.
Kael could use that.
But first, he had to survive this encounter.
A Conversation with the Hunter
The golden-eyed leader stepped closer, circling Kael slowly.
It was a test. A predator measuring its prey.
Kael didn't flinch. He didn't move. Any sign of hesitation could be interpreted as weakness, and Kael knew he wasn't dealing with fools.
Finally, the leader broke the silence.
"You didn't fight. You didn't run. That means you knew this was going to happen."
Kael allowed himself a small, wry smile. "I knew something was going to happen. Just didn't know what."
The leader narrowed his eyes. He was expecting lies, Kael could tell. But sometimes, the best lie was just enough truth.
"And why would a member of the Ironbloods suspect an ambush?" the man pressed.
Kael sighed, nudging one of the corpses with his boot. "Do I really look like one of them to you?"
The leader's gaze flicked to the bodies strewn around them, then back to Kael.
The realization dawned.
Kael hadn't lifted a finger to help the Ironbloods. He wasn't armed. He hadn't taken a defensive stance. He was just… waiting.
"So, what are you?" the leader asked.
Kael slipped his hands into his pockets and smiled faintly.
"Someone who wants Valen dead."
The air grew thick with tension. The assassins around the leader shifted slightly, their attention sharp and focused.
And then, the man laughed.
The True Enemies of the Ironbloods
The golden-eyed man crossed his arms, his gaze still locked on Kael. There was interest there now, curiosity tempered with caution.
With a subtle hand gesture, the assassins lowered their weapons, though their eyes never left Kael.
The leader introduced himself.
"My name is Rovan. We're the Shadow Dawn."
Kael raised an eyebrow, keeping his expression neutral. He'd never heard of them before.
But he understood immediately.
These weren't mere bounty hunters or mercenaries.
They were an organization.
And their sole purpose was to bring down the Ironbloods.
"Never heard of you," Kael said casually.
Rovan smirked. "That means we're doing our job right."
Smart. Careful. Kael liked that.
But he needed more.
He glanced at the scattered corpses. "If you're just here to kill a few foot soldiers, why come in person?"
It was a calculated question, designed to test how much Rovan was willing to share.
Rovan studied Kael for a moment, weighing his response.
"Valen is more vulnerable now than he's ever been," Rovan said. "We're cutting away his defenses. Preparing for the final blow."
Kael's mind raced.
They were planning something big.
An attack on Valen himself.
Perfect.
If they were going after Valen, it meant Kael wouldn't have to take him down alone. He just needed to make sure he was in the right place when it all went down.
A Deal in the Shadows
Kael tilted his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
"If killing Valen is your goal, I can help," he said.
Rovan raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "And why should we trust you?"
Kael had anticipated the question. He reached into his cloak and pulled out the Ironblood insignia he'd been using to infiltrate their ranks—a crude, iron chain adorned with a jagged emblem.
"Because I'm inside the Black Fortress," Kael said simply.
The tension in the air shifted. Behind Rovan, the other assassins exchanged glances, their postures rigid.
A spy within the heart of the Ironbloods?
That changed everything.
Rovan's eyes narrowed. "What do you want?"
"Valen dead. The fortress destroyed," Kael said without hesitation.
Rovan crossed his arms, his expression unreadable. "And after that?"
A dangerous question.
Kael chose his words carefully, balancing ambition with pragmatism.
"After that… I'll decide if you're useful or not."
For a moment, Rovan stared at him in silence. Then, to Kael's surprise, the man chuckled.
"I like you, kid," Rovan said, extending a hand.
Kael grasped it firmly.
The deal was struck.
The Ironbloods' fate was sealed.
And Kael had just gained dangerous allies to accelerate their downfall.
Return to the Black Fortress
Kael returned before dawn, his cloak streaked with dust and dried blood.
He moved like a shadow, slipping past the guards and patrols with practiced ease.
Sorin? Dead.
The others? Dead.
No one would return to tell Valen what had happened.
When the questions came, Kael already had his answer.
He strode through the fortress's darkened halls, heading straight for Valen's chambers.
He knocked once on the heavy wooden door.
Silence.
Then, a voice from within:
"Enter."
Kael pushed the door open and stepped inside.
Valen sat behind his desk, his piercing eyes fixed on Kael as though he already sensed something was amiss.
Kael closed the door behind him, the faintest hint of a smile playing on his lips.
The game's final act was about to begin.