Chapter 958 — The Breaking Point
The council chamber of the Hollow was normally calm — a place of logic, reason, and quiet brilliance.
But not today.
The message crystal in Kael's hand burned with a faint red pulse as Zerathis's voice replayed over and over, each repetition driving another nail of fury into his chest.
"Confirmed. The dragon is real. It's her — your aunt. The hero's captured her. He's using divine bindings. She's alive, but being tortured daily."
Kael's hands trembled. The air around him shimmered with the faint distortion of chaotic energy as his control began to slip. His eyes, normally bright silver, glowed faintly crimson — the mark of his lineage flaring to life.
Lyria and Eris stood nearby. Neither spoke. They both felt the pressure in the room — the silent, suffocating heat that came whenever Kael's daemon lord side clawed too close to the surface.
He finally slammed his palm against the table, the impact cracking its surface and making the councilors flinch.
"He's hurting her." The words tore out of him like a growl. "That self-righteous mortal dares to chain a true dragon — my blood, my family — like some divine trophy?!"
Varik opened his mouth to speak, but Lyria's warning glance silenced him.
Kael rose to his feet, his aura flaring so intensely that the flames from the torches bent toward him. "Ready my armor," he ordered, his tone deadly calm but burning beneath the surface. "I'm going. Tonight."
The room went still.
Lyria took a cautious step forward. "Kael, listen to yourself—"
"I am listening!" he snapped, his voice sharper than a blade. "Every second I stand here debating, he's carving more runes into her flesh! I will not wait while he parades her suffering before the gods!"
He turned toward the door, his stride purposeful, his wrath pulsing in rhythm with his heart.
And then Eris moved.
In a blur of motion, she appeared in front of him, one hand pressed to his chest. Chaos energy sparked where they touched — her aura intertwining with his, resonating like two notes in the same key.
Her voice was calm. "You will die if you go alone."
He glared down at her, but Eris didn't flinch. Her eyes — bright violet, pulsing faintly with that same chaotic glow — held his without fear. "You're powerful, Kael. The strongest of us. But that hero… he's blessed. He channels divine will. He'd tear you apart if you charge in like this."
"Then let him try," Kael growled.
Lyria moved next, stepping beside Eris. "No, Kael. That's not who you are. You're not the kind of man who acts out of rage."
Kael's expression twisted. "You think I should do nothing?"
Lyria's tone softened, but her eyes didn't waver. "No. I think you should do what you always do — plan. You've outsmarted gods and kings, Kael. Don't throw that away because you're angry."
For a long moment, the daemon lord said nothing. His aura roared around him like a storm. Then, slowly — painfully — it began to fade, pulled back into him with visible effort.
The tension in the air lessened. The torches straightened.
Kael exhaled shakily, his fists still clenched. "He's going to pay," he said finally, voice low and trembling with contained fury. "But not like this. Not yet."
Eris lowered her hand from his chest, her expression unreadable but her eyes soft. "Good," she whispered. "Because you're not the only one who wants to see him burn."
Kael gave a bitter chuckle, rubbing his temple. "You two are far too good at stopping me from doing stupid things."
Lyria smiled faintly. "That's because we've seen your stupid things before."
A faint, tense laugh rippled through the chamber — the kind that comes after a near disaster.
Kael looked between them both — Lyria with her quiet strength, Eris with her calm, calculated defiance — and nodded. "All right. We wait for Zerathis's return. When he gets back, we plan the strike. But not a moment sooner."
Eris tilted her head slightly. "You intend to rescue your aunt?"
"Not just rescue," Kael said darkly. "I intend to end this hero. Permanently."
That night, the Hollow was restless.
Kael stood alone in the courtyard beneath the silver moon, the stars glittering across the darkened sky. His armor hung in the shadows beside him, but he wore none of it. Just his usual coat, black and silver, fluttering in the cool wind.
He closed his eyes. The image of his aunt's wounded form wouldn't leave his mind — the chains, the fire, the arrogance of that man.
He clenched his fists. How dare he claim righteousness while torturing the blood of chaos itself?
A gentle hand touched his arm. Lyria again — quiet, warm, steady. "You're still thinking about it."
He opened his eyes, the crimson glow fading. "How can I not?"
"You will save her," she said softly. "But you will do it your way. Not his."
Kael turned his gaze skyward. "If he's blessed by the gods, then I'll show them what happens when chaos answers back."
Lyria smiled faintly, both worried and proud. "That's the Kael I know."
From the shadows nearby, Eris watched — unseen but listening. She could feel Kael's emotions, still raw and burning, but underneath them… something deeper. Resolve. Fear. Compassion.
For the first time, Eris realized something: Kael's strength wasn't just power. It was the ability to feel everything and still keep walking forward.
And though she didn't understand it yet, she wanted to learn how to carry that same weight — not as a weapon, but as something human.