Leo answered softly, almost too quietly to be heard. "What do you mean?"
"Enough pretending," the other snapped. "Tell me who you are."
Leo still gripped his weapon. His hands shook; tears leaked down his face as panic laced his words. "What if you lower your gun first, then we talk? I think you're mistaken about me—please, there must be some misunderstanding."
Tyler did not intervene; he watched from a short distance, silent.
Christopher lowered his weapon for a heartbeat, then grabbed Leo's shoulder with a violent shove and forced him to face him. "You bastard—do you think I'll believe—" His words choked off as his gaze fell to the muzzle of the pistol pressed with cold precision against his chest.
A crooked smile curved Leo's lips. "Hm… I must admit, you are a clever investigator. I didn't expect to be found so fast."
Christopher swallowed hard and, against his will, let a grudging smile slip. "Fine. Exposing worms like you is my specialty after all." He tugged the trigger with a perverse relish, as though he wanted to savor the indecisive expression on Christopher face.
He almost forgot Tyler was there. Tyler's pistol was trained on him with unerring steadiness.
"You're irritating, stranger," Tyler said. "Put your gun down now."
"And if I refuse? What can you do?" Leo answered, voice steady with sudden confidence.
Tyler laughed, thin and hostile. "This is the Black Hunters Guild, not a playground. If you threaten Christopher, do you think I won't empty a magazine into your head? You're a fool. Drop it while I handle this calmly."
The air between them was taut, suffocating, until heavy footsteps cut through the tension. An old man entered, his presence radiating authority. He glanced at Christopher, then at Leo, and ordered in a commanding voice, "Lower your weapons—now!"
Christopher and Tyler obeyed, but Leo remained frozen. The old man barked again: "I said all of you!"
A force older than reason seemed to press down on Leo; there was no point in a losing fight. He lowered his gun. The old man added, "Follow me to the office. All of you."
They gathered shortly afterward in the great hall. The old man stood behind his desk at the far end, staring out through the window. Leo swept the room with his gaze: Veronica, the Commander, Lisa, Tyler, and of course Christopher—those were the faces he could make out—and another girl with dark hair and eyes so black they watched him with an uncanny intensity.
The old man's coarse voice broke the silence. "Is it time you told us who you are, stranger? I will not be able to stop Christopher from blowing your brains out for long."
He motioned toward Christopher, whose face burned with rage, veins standing out on his forehead.
Leo raised his hands in surrender. "Alright. There's no need for all this hostility. I won't run, and I won't fight you. I'll be dead in a moment anyway. I didn't come here to cause trouble."
Christopher scoffed. "After everything you've done, you say you didn't come to cause trouble? Wow."
The old man shot a warning look at Christopher. Christopher fell silent.
Leo continued, stepping closer as he circled the desk, "But I have one question, old man—are you truly the one they call the Black Killer?"
No sooner had the words left his mouth than an invisible grip seized Leo by the throat and hoisted him into the air, cutting off his breath. He stared up at the old man, whose anger flared. "How dare you speak that name here? Where did you hear it?"
Confusion rippled through the hall. Leo managed a crooked, defiant smile as his legs kicked uselessly in the air. "Oh… ahh… I didn't know the name was forbidden… but I never knew you by any other."
The old man's grip of energy loosened, and Leo crumpled to the floor, fingers roaming his throat where the pain still smoldered. The others stood around them, watching with guarded expressions.
"You set the whole thing up—from taking the girl until now—to get to me, didn't you?" the old man said.
Leo smiled and eased himself onto the couch, crossing one leg over the other as if he were in his own parlor. "You're half right and half wrong. You were the target from the beginning, yes—but taking the girl was an accident. When I heard in the tavern that the Black Hunters were looking for her, I decided to turn this into a play."
"You mean you let them burn you alive just to get here?" the old man snapped.
Leo's smile never faded. "That wasn't part of the script. I didn't expect the barkeep's drink to be poisoned. I couldn't fight them after that—otherwise I wouldn't have let them burn me. I only needed to keep the girl safe; then you would come."
"Then why go through our tests? Did you want to join us?"
Leo laughed, but there was no warmth in it. "I found myself bound. And do you honestly think that man"—he jerked a thumb toward Christopher—"would have let me walk away if I'd told him it was all an act? If you hadn't arrived when you did, I'd be—" He mimed a throat being cut.
The old man barked out a laugh of his own, amused despite himself. "Ha. It's been a while since I met a madman like you. You joke even though you could die at any second."
He turned suddenly to the boy. "Hey, kid—what's your name?" held out a hand.
Leo met his gaze steadily, held out a hand. "Leo, old man."
The old man chuckled again. "You truly lack manners, boy—calling me 'old man.' Bah. I am a Duke, for God's sake."
"Should I bow, then? I don't know your etiquette," Leo said, shrugging with casual indifference.
The Duke's face tightened, curious now. "Enough. Tell me—what brought you here?
I have a message for you."
Leo's voice was calm but edged with wariness.
"Yes… but it's in my bag, not here. I left it at my quarters. Will you allow me to fetch it? I promise I'll return."
Before the old man could respond, Lisa darted forward.
"Papa, Papa—do you mean this bag? I brought it with me. Here."
He stroked her head with a tenderness that softened his stern face.
"Well done, little one. Good girl. Now go and play, agreed?"
"Agreed," she said, and skipped away.
The Duke opened the bag and drew out a sealed envelope, its wax pressed with a strange sigil. The instant he saw it, his expression changed. He set it upon his desk as though it were a living thing.
"You—where did you get this letter? Do you have any idea what you're holding?"
Leo regarded him with a cool, almost mocking look.
"A letter sealed in blood, isn't it?"
"Yes," the Duke said. "It is. Are you certain it's meant for me?"
"Well, if you're not lying about who you are, yours is the only blood that can open it."
The old man's eyes darkened. He bit his thumb until a bead of red swelled, raising his hand to let it fall upon the seal—but the Commander caught his wrist.
"Your Grace—are you mad? You know if it isn't addressed to you, the seal will strike back. The pain will be…"
"Do you think me so weak?" the Duke growled, pulling his hand free. He let his blood drip onto the wax.
With a hiss, the seal cracked open. A woman's ghost rose from the letter, drifting like a wisp through the hall before halting, her gaze fixed on the old man.
"Hello… Father."
Every eye in the room widened.
"And my brother is here as well," she said softly. "How you've both grown. Your hair has turned gray, Father. And you, Erik… I sealed a fragment of my soul into this message."
She moved closer, her voice trembling. "I'm so sorry for what happened, Father. Sorry for leaving everything behind. I don't have much time." She turned toward the others. "And you—my comrades—you've grown strong. I see new faces, too. I'm glad the Black Hunters endure, though some are gone."
The Duke finally spoke, his voice a raw whisper. "Liora… I don't understand. You sealed part of your soul? Where are you now, my daughter? Are you safe?"
Her spectral face fell. "If this letter has reached you, Father, then I'm already dead. This was written to be delivered only in the event of my death."
The old man sank to his knees. She knelt before him, her hands trembling as she reached toward him.
"Don't cry, Father. We all die, sooner or later. I'm only glad I've been given this one chance to see you again… to say goodbye,
but before i go Listen to me closely," she said, her voice dropping to a hard whisper that demanded attention. "You must be on your guard—every one of you. Beware." she let the last words hang in the heavy air, then added, steel threading his tone: "He's returned."
What do you mean? He asks but she didn't answer
She rose and drifted toward Leo, who had watched everything with unreadable eyes. At last she met his gaze.
"Thank you for delivering my message, dear. You've grown so much while I was away. Please… take care of yourself."
She pressed a ghostly kiss to his forehead and dissolved into nothing, vanishing as if she had never been. The letter crumbled into ash. Silence fell over the hall like a heavy shroud.
The Duke rose slowly and lowered himself into his chair, grief pooling around him like a dark tide.
"Boy," he said at last, his voice hoarse, "thank you for going through the trouble of bringing me this message. I will not punish you. You may leave whenever you wish."
Leo slung his bag over his shoulder and turned to go.
"Wait," the Duke said suddenly.
Leo exhaled sharply. "What now? Have you changed your mind? Decided to kill me after all?"
"No. Not that. But why was my daughter's letter with you? How do you know her?"
Leo held his gaze for a long moment before speaking.
"I'm her son."