After dinner, the tavern's common room had emptied, leaving only the fading scent of Flame-Kissed Dragon Stew drifting into the night air. Magnus Caldryn slipped through the shadows of the hallway, his crimson eyes gleaming with purpose as he knocked softly on Rhea's door. She opened it at once, her grey eyes sharp and alert, her raven hair still damps from her bath. The room was simple, lit by a single lantern whose flickering glow cast restless shadows across the walls—mirroring the dark resolve in their hearts.
Magnus stepped inside, closing the door with a quiet click. At his hips, his twin shadow sabers pulsed faintly with the aura of his Shadow Dantian.
Rhea leaned against the table, dagger in hand, its edge freshly sharpened.
"Planning's done," she said. "What's next?"
A sinister smile spread across Magnus's face, his voice a low growl carrying the weight of the Shadow's Hand legacy.
"Tonight, Valisar bleeds. After what we saw with Avar and his mother… that hell they call a life… it ends. No more waiting."
Rhea's eyes darkened, the memory of Hera's tears and Avar's desperate hug igniting a rare fire within her.
"I'm with you. That woman's story… it struck deep. The Valisar kingdom lets this rot fester.":but this not this only one, there are many stories hidden beneath this place.''
Magnus unrolled a scroll across the table. Its lines sketched the outline of Old Valisar the district where Hardard ruled from the shadows. At its center stood a three-story fortress, a dark monolith rising from the slums.
"This is their lair," Magnus said, tracing the structure with his finger. "The Gilded Ledger's operations flow through here bribes, assassinations, everything. We strike tonight, but with stealth. No charging in like fools."
Rhea leaned closer. "What's the play?"
Magnus's crimson eyes burned with intensity.
"First, we take down the guards silently. I'll use Phantom Lotus Steps, you'll use your Black Veil stealth. Slit throats or chokeholds, no noise. Then we throw sleeping smoke sacks into the lower floors. The guards will drop, clearing the way without a fight. Once inside, we move floor by floor, listening for intel. Eavesdrop on patrols, overhear meetings, find out where they keep Torren's ledger and why the Valisar kingdom protects them. No fighting unless cornered. This is reconnaissance: get in, learn, get out. If we spot Lyra or Hardard, we mark their positions but don't engage. We strike only when we know their weaknesses."
Rhea's grey eyes gleamed with approval.
"Smart. Hit them where it hurts later. I'll prepare the smoke sacks I bought the herbs at the market. You handle the shadows."
Magnus rolled up the scroll, his smile deepening.
"Get ready. We leave at midnight."
The hours slipped by in preparation. Magnus meditated with Shadow Flower Breathing, his dantian surging with shadow qi until his aura vanished into the stillness of the night. Rhea ground the herbs into fine powder, filling small sacks and testing, as the faint mist brought a heavy drowsiness she quickly shook off.
When the time came, they donned dark cloaks. Magnus concealed his sabers; Rhea hid her dagger. As midnight approached, the tavern grew silent.
***
Meanwhile, in the undercity's fortified lair, Hardard sat slouched in a throne-like chair, his scarred left eye glinting in the torchlight. Across from him, Lyra Danils sipped tea from a delicate cup, her quill-ring catching the firelight as she set it down. The air was thick with the aroma of herbs, a rare calm in their world of blood and bribes.
"What a fine tea," Hardard grumbled, draining his cup with a satisfied sigh. His metal knuckles clinked against the armrest.
Lyra's cold eyes met his, her voice sharp as a blade.
"Boss, why do you want Magnus Caldryn dead? The Caldera job was supposed to be simple—discredit House Caldryn, steal the ledger, weaken their trade. But now, with him raiding our docks and killing our men, it's personal for you. Why? We've got the Valisar kingdom's gold flowing through the Gilded Ledger, why risk it all for one noble?"
Hardard set his cup down with a heavy thud, his fiery aura flickering like embers in his scarred gaze.
"His mother," he said, his voice dropping to a low rumble, thick with nostalgia and hatred. "I loved her, once. I saw her in the garden, sitting like a doll, plucking flowers with that innocent smile. She was mine or should have been. We grew up in the same village, before Valisar swallowed us. She promised me forever, but she chose that Caldryn bastard instead, bore his son. Magnus… he's the living reminder of what I lost. Every time I see his name in the reports, it's like she's mocking me from the grave. I'll burn him, watch his flesh melt, hear his screams echo through the tunnels. The Valisar kingdom's bribes mean nothing compared to vengeance. The Gilded Ledger can handle the fallout. But if he comes here, make sure the gangs are ready. That crimson-eyed shadow demon from Caldera won't leave alive."
Lyra leaned back, her expression unreadable, though her fingers tightened on her cup.
"Understood. The kingdom is already pushing for more control over Caldera—their trade routes are vital to our expansion. If Magnus comes, we'll trap him. I've doubled the patrols and set alarm wires in the tunnels. He won't get close to the ledger or our dealings with the Black Veil assassins."
Hardard's scarred eye narrowed.
"Good. Valisar's shadows hide many secrets let's keep it that way."
Back at the tavern, Magnus checked his sabers while Rhea adjusted her cloak.
"Rhea," he said quietly, "is everything set?"
She met his gaze, her voice steady.
"Yes. I'm ready."
Magnus's crimson eyes glowed faintly in the lantern light.
"Then tonight, Valisar learns fear."
Magnus and Rhea were ready.
To be continued in Chapter 16…