The trek back from the mines left Kayle Westeros weary but exhilarated, the faint glow of the element energy crystal still thrumming in his veins. The Enhanced Mechanical Arm felt lighter on his forearm, its gears humming with a quiet power that matched the newfound steadiness in his legs. The Bloodline Curse lingered, a dull ache beneath his skin, but for the first time in years, he'd walked without staggering—proof that the energy he'd absorbed was more than a fleeting boost. Lilia skipped beside him, chattering about the crystal's glow, while Ryan trailed behind, hefting a sack of smaller shards they'd scavenged from the chamber. The sun hung low, painting the hills in hues of gold and shadow, but Kayle's mind was already racing ahead. The Laytons wouldn't relent, and he needed every edge he could get.
They reached the manor as dusk settled, the courtyard bustling with activity. Jasper and a few servants hammered at the broken gate, patching it with scavenged wood, while Martha stirred a pot of thin stew over a fire. Old Tom stood watch near the steps, his grizzled face lighting up as he spotted them. "Young Master!" he called, hobbling over. "You're back—and standing tall, no less! What'd you find down there?"
Kayle grinned, lifting the mechanical arm to show its faint glow. "Crystals—energy crystals, just like you said. They're real, Tom, and they're powerful. I took down a monster with this thing and came out stronger." He nodded to Ryan, who dumped the sack at Tom's feet, spilling a handful of glowing shards onto the dirt.
Lilia piped up, her voice bubbling with pride. "Brother smashed it to pieces! It was huge—rocks and claws and everything—but he didn't even flinch!" She mimicked his punch, nearly toppling over in her excitement.
Old Tom's eyes widened, then crinkled with a rare smile. "By the gods, you're a Westeros through and through. Your grandfather'd be proud." He knelt stiffly, picking up a shard to examine its light. "This could change everything—if we can use it right."
"We will," Kayle said, his tone firm. "But we've got to move fast. The Laytons'll hear about Garen soon, and they'll come harder next time." He scanned the courtyard, counting heads. Jasper, Martha, Ryan, Lilia, Tom—a tight crew, loyal as far as he could tell. But something nagged at him, a flicker of unease he couldn't place. The system chimed softly: "Warning: Potential threat detected. Exercise caution among allies." Kayle's brow furrowed. Allies? He'd fought beside these people, bled for them. Yet the system's words gnawed at him, sharp and insistent.
"Tom," he said, lowering his voice. "Who's been out of sight today? Anyone acting off?"
The steward frowned, scratching his beard. "Most've been here, fixin' up the place. Jasper's been at the gate, Martha's on the stew. Little Jack, though—he's been quiet. Said he was fetchin' water from the well, but I ain't seen him come back yet." His gray eyes narrowed. "You thinkin' trouble, Young Master?"
"Maybe," Kayle murmured, his gaze drifting to the well at the courtyard's edge. Jack—a scrawny servant with shifty eyes, barely twenty, who'd joined them after the last harvest failed. He'd kept his head down, done his work, but Kayle had never trusted those quick glances, that nervous twitch. The system's warning echoed again, and his gut tightened. "Keep an eye out. I'll check on him."
He motioned for Lilia and Ryan to stay with Tom, then limped toward the well, the mechanical arm clicking softly. The evening shadows stretched long across the dirt, and the manor's quiet felt heavier now—too still, like the calm before a storm. As he neared the well, a rustle caught his ear—faint, hurried, coming from the bushes beyond. Kayle froze, his senses sharpening, the energy crystal's boost heightening his awareness. He stepped closer, silent despite his cursed legs, and peered through the foliage.
There was Jack, crouched low, his back to Kayle. The servant's hands fumbled with a scrap of parchment, scribbling furiously with a charred stick. Kayle's eyes narrowed as he caught a glimpse of the words—"mines… crystals… Garen down…"—before Jack folded the note and slipped it into a leather pouch. A twig snapped under Kayle's foot, and Jack whirled, his face paling as he locked eyes with his master.
"Young Master!" Jack stammered, scrambling to his feet. "I—I was just… uh, checkin' the bushes! Thought I heard somethin'!" His voice cracked, his hands trembling as he clutched the pouch behind his back.
Kayle's expression hardened, the mechanical arm whirring as he stepped forward. "Drop the lies, Jack. What's that in your hand?" His voice was low, dangerous, a tone he hadn't known he possessed until now. The system chimed: "Deception detected. Recommend interrogation."
Jack's eyes darted, sweat beading on his brow. "Nothin', sir! Just… just a scrap I found! No harm in it!" He took a step back, edging toward the trees, but Kayle was faster. The mechanical arm shot out, grabbing Jack's wrist with a grip like iron. The servant yelped, the pouch slipping from his fingers as Kayle yanked him closer.
"Last chance," Kayle growled, twisting the arm until Jack whimpered. "Who's that note for? The Laytons? Talk, or I'll break more than your wrist."
Jack's defiance crumbled, tears welling in his eyes. "Please, Young Master, don't! It's—it's them, aye! Robert's men! They caught me last week, said they'd kill my sister if I didn't tell 'em what you were up to! I didn't want to, I swear!" His voice broke, a pitiful sob escaping as he sagged in Kayle's grip.
Kayle's jaw clenched, fury simmering beneath his calm. A traitor in their midst—small wonder the Laytons had struck so fast after Robert's first failure. He released Jack's wrist, letting the servant collapse to his knees, then snatched the pouch from the dirt. The note spilled out, its scrawled message clear: a report on the mines, Garen's defeat, and Kayle's growing strength. His blood ran cold, then hot. This could've ended them—given the Laytons everything they needed to crush him before he was ready.
"Get up," Kayle snapped, towering over Jack. The servant obeyed, trembling, his eyes pleading. Kayle raised the mechanical arm, its glow flaring, and for a moment, he considered ending it—crushing the threat then and there. But Lilia's voice echoed in his mind, her faith in him, and he lowered his fist. "You're done here. Run—back to your sister, the village, anywhere but here. If I see you again, you won't walk away."
Jack nodded frantically, stumbling backward before bolting into the trees, his sobs fading into the night. Kayle stood there, the note crumpling in his grip, the system chiming: "Threat neutralized non-lethally. Host restraint noted. No reward issued." He didn't care about points this time. Trust was a luxury he couldn't afford to lose—not with the Laytons circling.
He returned to the courtyard, the servants' chatter falling silent as they saw his face. Old Tom met him at the steps, his expression grim. "Jack?" he asked, reading the answer in Kayle's silence. "Damn fool. I'll watch closer next time, Young Master. Won't let it happen again."
"Good," Kayle said, his voice steady but edged with steel. He held up the crumpled note for all to see. "This is what the Laytons want—our secrets, our strength. Jack sold us out, but he's gone now. Anyone else thinking of trying it, know this: I'll find you, and I won't be so kind next time." The mechanical arm clicked ominously, its glow casting shadows across his face.
The servants nodded, fear and respect mingling in their eyes. Lilia slipped to his side, her hand brushing his. "You did the right thing, Brother," she whispered. "We're still together."
Kayle exhaled, the anger easing. "Yeah," he murmured, ruffling her hair. "And we're staying that way." But as he looked toward the hills, the mines' promise burning in his mind, he knew—betrayal was just another fight to win.