The city never truly slept, but tonight, Valenport was alive with whispers. Secrets flowed through the crooked alleyways like poison, infecting everything they touched. And I was standing right in the middle of the web, tangled in a game far larger than I had imagined.
After the encounter at the warehouse, I knew the Silent Serpents weren't just a rogue faction of thieves or assassins. They were part of something deeper — a conspiracy stretching its long fingers into every corner of the city. If I wanted to survive, to rise, and ultimately to claim my revenge, I had to unravel those threads before they strangled me.
I found myself pacing in the small, dimly lit room I rented in the merchant district. The flickering candlelight cast long shadows across the peeling wallpaper, and the silence was thick enough to choke on. Rylas sat on the edge of the bed, eyes sharp and calculating.
"We need information," I said, voice low but firm. "And not just rumors from the tavern. Real intel—who funds the Serpents, who commands them, and what their ultimate goal is."
Rylas nodded. "I have contacts. Smugglers, spies, even a few disgraced nobles who owe me favors. But none of them are clean. Everyone wants something. Trust is a currency more valuable than gold—and just as dangerous."
I rubbed the bridge of my nose, feeling the weight of the world pressing down. Trust—or the lack of it—had been my undoing once. I couldn't afford to make the same mistake twice.
Outside, the muffled sounds of the city drifted in—horses clattering, merchants shouting, the distant clang of the city guard's patrol. Life went on, indifferent to the storm brewing beneath its surface.
I swallowed the bitterness rising in my throat. If the city was a stage, then I was a player forced into a deadly game of shadows and lies.
"Then we start small," I decided. "We find one piece of the puzzle, one weak link. And we pull."
Rylas's eyes glinted in the firelight. "There's a man—Arlen Marvik. He's a merchant with ties to the underworld, and rumors say he's tangled with the Serpents. If anyone can lead us to their masters, it's him."
I remembered the name from the warehouse intel. Arlen Marvik—smooth-talking, ruthless, and as slippery as a fish. Dealing with him would be like walking through a den of vipers.
But I had no choice. The path to revenge was paved with dangerous bargains.
The next evening, I found myself standing outside the grand estate of Arlen Marvik, nestled on the edge of the merchant district. The iron gates were imposing, twisted into snarling shapes that seemed to warn away the unwelcome. Lanterns hung from blackened wrought iron posts, casting eerie pools of light on the cobblestones.
I adjusted the hood of my cloak and stepped forward, the click of my boots sharp in the heavy silence.
A butler answered my knock—pale, with eyes that betrayed a lifetime of secrets. I asked for Arlen Marvik by name, trying to keep my voice steady.
"Wait here," he said, disappearing into the shadows.
Minutes later, Arlen emerged from the manor, dressed in expensive silks but with a calculating smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"Kael Draven," he greeted smoothly. "I've heard rumors... unexpected to see you in my humble home."
His gaze flickered over me, sharp as a blade. I didn't return his smile.
"Cut the pleasantries," I said. "I want information. The Silent Serpents. What's their endgame? And who's pulling the strings?"
Arlen's smile widened, almost amused.
"You're diving into dangerous waters, Kael. The Serpents aren't mere cutthroats. They're pawns in a larger game. Political puppets. Mercenaries for those who want to see Valenport burn—and rebuild in their image."
I narrowed my eyes. "And you? What role do you play?"
"Let's say I'm a merchant of opportunities," he replied cryptically. "I deal in information, favors, and... influence. Sometimes my clients prefer subtlety. Other times, chaos."
The words sent a chill down my spine. Arlen Marvik was a man who thrived in the shadows, and right now, those shadows were swallowing the city whole.
I forced myself to meet his gaze. "I need allies. If I'm going to bring down the Serpents, I can't do it alone."
Arlen chuckled softly. "Everyone needs allies, Kael. But be careful who you trust. In Valenport, friends are often the most dangerous enemies."
Before I could respond, the butler appeared again. "Master Arlen, your guests are arriving."
Through the manor's tall windows, I saw figures cloaked in dark fabrics slipping inside — strangers whose faces were hidden but whose presence screamed danger.
The room's tension thickened like fog.
I realized then that this meeting was no longer about simple information.
It was a test.
Later, alone in my rented room, the weight of the night pressed down on me. Arlen's cryptic warnings echoed in my mind. The deeper I dug, the darker the city's secrets became.
But retreat wasn't an option.
I lit a small incense stick, inhaling the sharp scent, trying to calm the restless storm inside.
My hand brushed against the faint pulse beneath my skin — the Soul Resonance still raw but growing stronger with each day. It was a constant reminder that I was no longer the broken hunter I once was.
Revenge wasn't just a desire; it was a necessity. For my name, for my lost past, and for the future I intended to claim.
Tomorrow, I would seek out Rylas's contacts. Piece by piece, I'd unravel the Serpents' network. And with every thread pulled, the city would inch closer to the truth.
I closed my eyes, letting the pulse of the Soul Resonance steady my breath.
This was only the beginning.
To be continued...