Chapter 93 – The Weight of Truth
The council chamber felt heavier than ever before. No laughter echoed in the vaulted stone hall, no calm murmur of voices filled the air. Only silence, thick and suffocating, broken only by the scrape of chairs as Kael and his companions took their places.
Every face was grim—Fenrik's beard was matted with dried blood, Thalos still favored his ribs, and Druaka's split lip had swollen to the color of fresh wine. Lyria stood with arms crossed, her expression a mask of composure, though Kael could see the fury simmering just beneath.
When Kael finally spoke, his voice carried like a blade across the room.
"We lost."
The words rang sharper than steel.
A stir went through the chamber, council members shifting uneasily in their seats. Some bowed their heads, others narrowed their eyes. Kael did not allow the silence to settle.
"Fenrik was thrown aside like a child. Thalos disarmed in seconds. Druaka beaten bloody. Lyria struck down in a single blow. I summoned beasts, weapons, shadows—everything I could conjure in the moment—and they were destroyed like they were nothing. Make no mistake: those two are stronger than anything we've faced. If they had wanted to slaughter us all, they could have. And none of you would be sitting here now."
"Boy," Fenrik growled, his pride stung, "you make it sound like we're nothing."
Kael turned his gaze on him, steady and cold. "I'm not diminishing you. I'm telling you the truth. Against them? You, me, all of us together—we were nothing."
The chamber erupted then.
Voices clashed, overlapping, angry.
"We can't let fear rule us—"
"Are we just supposed to wait for them to come back?"
"If they can break us so easily, then what hope do we have?"
"We need more defenses! More warriors!"
Thalos slammed a hand against the table, silencing the noise. "We already struggle to guard our borders as it is! Even if we doubled our patrols, those two could walk through them like grass. Defenses won't save us."
"That's exactly my point." Kael's voice rose, firm, commanding. "Walls won't save us. More guards won't save us. The only one who stands a chance against them… is me."
The words dropped like a hammer.
Lyria's head snapped toward him, her eyes sharp as steel. "Kael—"
"I mean it," he cut her off. "We all felt it. I was the only one who made them hesitate, even for a breath. Not Fenrik, not Thalos, not even Druaka. Me. That's not arrogance—it's reality."
Fenrik bristled, fists clenching, but he didn't argue. He couldn't.
The councilors whispered among themselves, fear written plain across their faces.
"So what do you propose?" Thalos asked at last, voice heavy.
Kael's jaw tightened. "I find them."
The chamber went still.
"You what?" Lyria's voice was sharp now, incredulous.
"I go out. Alone if I must. If not to fight them, then to scout. To see what they are, where they are, what they want beyond posturing at our gates. If we wait for them to come to us, we'll be caught unprepared. And next time…" He shook his head. "Next time, they won't hold back."
"No," Druaka said suddenly, voice fierce despite her swollen lip. "No, Kael. You saw them. You felt them. You walk out there alone and you won't come back."
"Then what do you suggest?" Kael shot back, his patience thinning. "That we sit here, wring our hands, and hope they forget about us? They won't. They've already made it clear—we're on their path, whether we like it or not."
"You think you're invincible because of this chaos magic," one of the elder councilors said, voice trembling. "But even you are not untouchable."
"I know that," Kael said, softer now. "I felt that. That's why I can't ignore this. They're coming, whether in a week, a month, or a year. And when they do, I need to know who they are. What they're capable of. How to kill them."
Silence followed, heavy and choking.
At last, Fenrik spoke, his voice quieter than Kael had ever heard it. "I don't like it. But the boy's right. Sitting and waiting will kill us faster than action."
Thalos exhaled heavily, nodding. "If he's going, then he'll need a plan. We can't afford reckless charges."
The council murmured uneasily, but no one argued. They didn't have the strength for denial anymore.
Lyria's voice cut through, colder than the rest. "If you go, Kael, you don't go alone. I'll not watch you march to your death while we sit behind walls."
"And I," Druaka added firmly, ignoring the pain in her voice. "If those bastards want to claim me, then I'll face them at your side, not cower behind your shadow."
Kael's chest tightened. He looked at them both, the weight of their loyalty—and their recklessness—pressing on him. He wanted to refuse, but he knew it was pointless. They wouldn't let him go alone.
Finally, he straightened, his eyes sweeping the chamber. "Then it's decided. We don't wait for them to choose the time or place. We find them. We watch. We learn. And when the day comes that we strike…" His voice darkened. "We don't miss."
The council bowed their heads, some in fear, others in grim agreement.
For the first time since the ogre brothers had appeared, the Hollow had a course. Not safety, not comfort. But a plan.
And Kael felt the weight of it settle fully on his shoulders.