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Chapter 10
Six months… Six long months had passed since Kael first set foot in this bustling city of ambition.
In that time, he had used his magic to weave a veil of illusions over his face. His magic might be inexhaustible, but his frail body could never fully bear its strain. So he opted for subtle changes — a shift in the color of his hair, a few added years to his features — just enough to keep even the most observant eyes from recognizing him.
Here, in this city of secrets and carefully concealed vices hidden beneath a façade of prosperity, his scars had long since faded. In their place was a renewed vigor. He was no longer the wounded, quiet stranger that people overlooked… but he made sure to remain invisible to those who might guess his true intentions.
Kael had not come here to destroy the city by force.
No… force was a brutal, crude language, leaving too many fingerprints behind.
What he wanted was something purer, more refined — for the city to collapse on its own. To devour itself from the inside out, like a ripe fruit left to shine on the outside until the day it collapsed at the slightest touch.
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The first step had been simple: observation.
Kael had learned the names of the influential families, noted the guilds locked in silent rivalry, and mapped the criminal networks operating under the protection of the city guard. Every face he passed in the streets, every hypocritical smile traded in the markets, every handshake held just a second too long during a deal… all were stored away in a corner of his mind.
Beneath the city's glittering surface, three forces truly vied for control:
1. The Merchant Council, driven by gold and economic domination.
2. The City Guard, believing themselves to be the shield of the law but selling their loyalty to the highest bidder.
3. The Shadow Brotherhoods, criminals and assassins weaving an invisible yet undeniable web of influence.
Kael knew he couldn't break them head-on. But he could push them into tearing each other apart… and he intended to do it with surgical precision.
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On the surface, his activities seemed ordinary.
He now owned a small shop dealing in rare items — the perfect cover for his operations. It was a discreet meeting point where rumors, secrets, and contracts changed hands. At times, he could be seen selling talismans to merchants or rare weapons to adventurers… but never in the open.
Officially, he was just a humble merchant.
Unofficially, he was a broker of conflict.
He sold information to one guild about the plans of another.
He discreetly funded a group of smugglers, then handed their trade routes to the Guard.
He whispered to certain captains that their superiors were plotting to replace them.
He planted suspicion like seeds… knowing they would one day bloom into hatred.
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One rainy evening, Kael stood at the window of his room, watching the city lights through the sheets of water streaking the glass. The steady rhythm of raindrops almost drowned out the muffled noises of the streets below.
Behind him, a man trembled with his hands bound — a messenger from the Merchant Council, captured by one of Kael's contacts.
"I've already told you everything I know…" the prisoner stammered.
Kael turned slowly, a cold smile touching his lips.
"No… you've told me what you think you know."
He crouched down in front of him, eyes locking onto his.
"What I want are the things you're too afraid to admit. The truths that frighten you more than death."
He didn't need to raise a hand. The look in the man's eyes was enough to tell him he would break soon. Fear was far more efficient than any blade.
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In the weeks that followed, tension rose.
Shipments vanished without explanation.
Guards publicly accused merchants of treachery.
Members of rival brotherhoods began to disappear, their bodies later found in gutters with strange messages carved into their skin.
Kael left no trace. Every incident looked like the natural byproduct of factional hatred.
And yet… every incident bore the invisible mark of his hand.
He had become the shadow within the shadows — the whisper that changed the course of a war before it even began.
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One night, sitting in a quiet tavern, Kael overheard two merchants speaking in hushed tones:
"The guards can't be trusted anymore… last week they let a suspicious convoy pass."
"I know… and now the Council wants to impose a new tax to fund security. The guilds will explode over this…"
Kael merely took a slow sip of his wine, an almost imperceptible smile tugging at his lips.
The fire he had lit was burning slowly… but surely.
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And yet, deep down, he knew the day would come when the city would realize the truth.
When someone would trace the red thread running through all these tragedies.
And when that day came, the city would turn against him.
But he wasn't afraid.
Because by then, it would be too weak to defend itself.
Until then, he would keep playing his part.
Patient. Calculating.
And in the silence of the night, Kael whispered to himself, like a vow:
"It won't be me who destroys you… it will be you."
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