Duke Streya received news about the blond at noon two days after. The said man strolled the pza, the market, even the nearby park. He also asked some of the knights for recommendations about historical pces and dined at the finest restaurants.

  Nothing seemed odd about him. However, his intuition told him something different. If anything, he mustn’t let that mysterious man out of his sight.

  “Are there any reports about what we’re looking for?”

  “Nothing, Your Excellency.”

  He huffed in exasperation as he discarded his pen.

  The assistant worriedly looked at him, at how his master became jaded and overworked. The past weeks overwhelmed them with swarming reports of missing immigrants and some noblemen being kidnapped. With no progress to be shown, the only Grand Duke and current Head Official of the Administrative Office, pressured him to take action about the said cases. Nonetheless, even with doubled efforts, he found little to nothing about what happened.

  Duke Streya leaned back, squinting intently at the ceiling.

  This might not be the first time for such an incident to happen but the situation escated further. The little clues he found, and only able to save a few missing people, could endanger his official position. While he held onto his current title out of duty, he cared more for the State and its people.

  “Please don’t beat yourself up like this, Your Excellency.”

  “I can’t help it.”

  The assistant paused, lifting his pen from the paper. “We’ve only known about this a little while ago and they’ve been doing this for years. We really are at a disadvantage.”

  “That’s what I thought too.”

  Duke Streya boasted about his knowledge of Stavros but the little confidence he showed shattered when they learned of the illegal auction.

  A nail scratched onto the table, he spoke, “If only they are not involved, I could go all out. Why can’t the Grand Duke understand that?”

  The assistant frowned deeper and continued writing his report in silence.

  The blond man stayed at a corner table tonight and Duke Streya walked towards his direction covertly after recognizing him. He sat opposite of him, his back turned to the other patrons. Three nights passed since he met this man and he clung to the possibility of the blond helping him. A little hope, perhaps. If shattered by bad news, he had to triple his efforts by the next inspections.

  Karel said nothing when the duke in disguise sat down but slid a piece of folded paper on the table. When he opened it, Duke Streya furrowed his eyebrows at how intricately drawn the map was. He also noticed the rge X mark on the center.

  “This is?”

  “The pce you’ve been looking for.”

  Duke Streya intently looked at the map, still confused. A few seconds passed and only then he realized.

  The grand saloon, he thought, puzzled. “Huh?”

  “For a high-ranking noble like yourself, it should be easy to find out about this but I can’t even bme you if you know nothing about it. They hid in pin sight and I ughed to myself when I learned about it.”

  He crumpled the edge of the paper, dumbfounded. “How did you know about this?”

  Duke Streya looked around and saw some people looking at them warily, others curiously.

  Karel sneakily snapped his fingers, creating an invisible soundproof barrier for their conversation to be unheard. “Talk freely, Duke Streya. No one can hear us. However, make it short or else someone will notice.”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “I’m rescuing some of my kin.” Karel clicked his tongue. “No, that sounds wrong. I want to rescue the immortals imprisoned there.”

  Duke Streya silently gaped at the realization. He looked at him, his teal eyes dazed. “You are…”

  “Leave the rescue operation to me but be on standby outside. The victims will be up to your care ter on.”

  “You’re alone,” he said through gritted teeth.

  “But I’m enough to deal with it.” He stood up. “Three nights from now, I’ll commence the operation. I hope you cooperate. Remember, this would benefit you too.”

  Karel exited the tavern and left Duke Streya alone there, still reeling in confusion about what happened. He folded the piece of paper and slid it in his coat pocket when he snapped out of his reverie.

  Who is that man?

  Heels ccked against the cobblestone as Karel walked down the quiet and empty streets. The night breeze fanned his face and stopped on his tracks to gaze at the starry skies.

  After the imperials sat on the throne, Kelzo, alongside the other remaining war veterans, were given authority to manage the vassal states and everyone allied with the empire would be under their jurisdiction. They often commandeered troops and assigned to missions requiring search-and-destroy or rescue.

  Familiarity—he would call it such.

  Tonight, right before he gave the information to Duke Streya, he managed to squeeze himself in the gathering held by the auction attendees. He himself got swept up by someone when he inquired about the matter and the stranger actually invited him. No one checked his identity and background and they gave out the pass nonchantly.

  He remembered how the man invited him happily, harboring thoughts of someone enjoying the auction and even advised Karel to buy more than one good if anything piqued his interest.

  “Your Highness,” someone called a while ter and he instantly froze in his pce. While not addressed to him, especially with his disguise on, he cautiously looked elsewhere and then—

  “It’s been finalized, right? Three nights from now.”

  “Yes, Your Highness.”

  Karel put down his gss of wine and clenched his hands on the railing until a little dent appeared on it.

  The man who arrived turned out to be the highest authority in the State of Stavros—the current and only Grand Duke Austin Livariel. If not for Stavros being a State, he must have been the king.

  No wonder, Karel thought and unclenched his hand from the dented railing.

  With his keen observation of his surroundings, he noticed the Knights of Streya patrolling the city every day. He also learned the State currently faced a serious serial kidnappings and how Duke Streya already at his wits’ end with all work thrown at him. However, even with his first encounter with the duke, he clearly knew what kind of man he was and probably the only ally he could make here.

  Now, he learned why the duke overworked himself and found it difficult to deal with the said matter because a higher authority protected the illegal practice.

  Karel sipped his drink again, pondering until three hours passed uneventfully and the small gathering ended with everyone going home.

  As he stood up from his seat, Karel haughtily smiled to himself.

  Enjoy the remaining days, humans.

  News of an exclusive banquet hosted by a wealthy businessman became the talk of the noble society. Not all of them owned the privilege to attend it and some envied the attendees. Being acquainted with businessmen could get you anywhere after all.

  The banquet began in the Grand Saloon while the city bustled even into the night.

  Amidst the joyous event, Duke Streya stationed his knights in the least conspicuous areas and clearly iterated to be observant of their surroundings, knowing a lot of things could happen in the span of minutes.

  Two hours went by without a hitch and the banquet showed no signs of ending. By the third hour, the saloon turned silent. The scout reported unusual movements and never heard the music being pyed again and yet no one exited the said saloon.

  It’s finally starting, the duke muttered to himself. He gripped onto the hilt of his sword and gritted his teeth.

  “Can we really trust that man, Your Excellency?” asked his personal knight.

  A blind faith—he knew that. He put his faith in a stranger he only met in a tavern twice. Now, it accompanied a sliver of hope.

  If the original gods truly exist, please hear my plea.

  Within the next hour, a rge array of magical circles hovered above the building. Everyone stared in awe until they realized the situation.

  Duke Streya immediately barked out orders to block all entrances and exits as soon as the knights arrived at their designated positions.

  At the same time inside the saloon, everyone panicked when one of the werebeasts being auctioned went wild. It might not be a common knowledge to humans that whenever driven to a corner, a werebeast let their instincts overtake them for survival.

  Karel, on the other hand, expected the incident to happen and decided not to interrupt the auction. For now, he sat bored on his seat in the mezzanine as he watched everyone scamper to save themselves from the sudden attack.

  “Leave the goods and discreetly leave the pce!” one of the guards excimed as another troop subdued the werebeast and another troop escorted everyone out.

  “Manager! We can’t leave the premises!”

  “What do you mean?”

  Karel smiled manically seeing how they descended to another bout of panic and hysteria. His new inventions of mediums proved useful now that everyone remained trapped in his magical prison. He added some newer features though, lower-ranked magic and physical attacks won’t let it budge, only selected individuals could pass through the barriers, and the only way to deactivate it was to destroy the mediums he securely hid in the saloon’s vicinity. Until then, they won’t be able to leave the premises and end up being apprehended by the knights currently raiding them.

  On the other side, they finally subdued the werebeast.

  “Kill him!” shouted another guard, gripping tightly onto his spear and anger written on his face.

  “It’s already dying, leave it,” another guard chimed in as he pulled the other guard back. “We need to help others.”

  As the attendees find their way out and the guards being preoccupied, Karel walked down the staircase and squatted beside the dying werebeast. He let his gloved hand run through its bloodstained fur and asked, “Tell me where the others were.”

  Those ombre eyes blinked blearily, taking in his figure. “You… are…”

  His crimson eyes turned bright golden and the werebeast’s eyes widened a little in recognition. “It’s my duty as a Ramayan to take care of the Immortals. Now, tell me.”

  “Backstage… downwards…” he muttered before violently coughing. “I’m sorry… I could… only…”

  Karel covered the dying werebeast’s eyes. “Rest. Your duty is finished.”

  “Thank… you…”

  Karel walked towards the backstage unnoticed and reverted his eye color back to crimson. His eyes widened in horror when he saw what those metal cages contained. Not just werebeasts, elves and other earthly creatures but also humans. He clenched his fists in anger and unlocked the cages without further ado.

  His looming figure intimidated the prisoners and noticed they didn’t even have the energy to shout or flee outside. He clenched his fists more until he noticed he injured himself. It immediately healed and reminded himself not to lose his temper when he saw the worst of it ter on. After all, he must descend to wherever the said dungeon was.

  “The fight is yet to be over. Stay where you know is safe.” His low voice rang out. “But, tell me, where is the door leading underground?”

  Most of them pointed towards the wall and Karel stared at it for a few seconds.

  Trigger a secret mechanism? Fuck it!

  In the next few seconds, he smashed the solid wall into smithereens and attracted the nearby guards’ attention.

  They surrounded him and brandished their weapons against him.

  A voice filled with aura echoed in the walls as he angrily spat, “Shut up and die!”

  Using only his telekinesis, the guards flew towards the walls, some even cracked it open towards the other side and died instantly. Broken pieces of armors, weapons and debris scattered around and his crimson eyes only gleamed brighter than before.

  Karel held onto his face, heaving deep breaths and slowly approached the wall he destroyed. His steps echoed as he walked down the spiral staircase and composed himself.

  Thump, thump, thump.

  As he moved closer, he heard muffled voices, ragged breaths, cries of help, hysterical screams, and wailing pleas.

  He might be a war veteran who experienced the battlefield firsthand but this scenario sent another kind of shiver down his spine.

  “Let me out of here!” yelled a woman with her shrill voice.

  “My son! My daughter!” another one wailed.

  “Fuck these disgusting pigs! If I get out of here, I will butcher them and feed them to the dogs!” a man also screamed out before someone rattled the metal bars in an attempt to escape.

  Karel now held onto his ears, trying to tune out every sound he heard. It overwhelmed him to the point he could lose any sanity he had left.

  “If only…” he looked at the steps below him, “If only I could destroy this pce.”

  Arriving at the st step, the dungeon turned eerily silent as the prisoners turned towards their new company. They noticed his taller figure than the rest of the caretakers and someone bravely asked, voice ragged and angered, “Who are you?”

  “No one,” he managed to choke out despite the boiling anger beneath his skin. “Fortunately tonight, I will be your savior.”

  The torches lit up and bzed, temporarily blinding everyone.

  Karel walked forward, taking in everyone’s conditions and deeply frowned. He held out his arms and magical circles appeared beneath his feet while everyone watched with rapt attention.

  The cages bsted open with a bang and hurried steps from above followed it. Karel stood before them again, now with only a sword in hand.

  Seeing the situation below, the guards shouted, “Seize him!”

  Cshes of weapons filled the closed area and the other victims huddled together to not be caught up in the crossfire. After securing themselves at the far corner, the able-bodied ones hid the weaker ones behind them.

  As they watched the ongoing fight, the Immortals took turns guessing who their savior was. When Karel killed half of the guards’ number alone with only his swordsmanship, a lot of them concluded about what he was.

  As the guards continued to rush from above, Karel also fended against them. Pained screams echoed around, snapping them out of their conversation. Blood flowed on the cold floor as the corpses id down one by one.

  His sword and white coat now bloodstained and yet he continued to fight. His boots crunched the corpses lying beneath his feet and the blood rippled like water as he stepped on it.

  Karel debated internally on what he should do next. Using magic in such a limited space proved to be dangerous and while he possessed inhuman stamina and strength, when against a high number of fighters, he would still find himself overwhelmed.

  Not only my senses, even—

  “From your left, mister!” shouted a child’s voice and an invisible barrier erected itself to protect him.

  With renewed vigor, the guards brandished their weapons again in unison. The barrier protected him and gnced at the victims before coming to a decision.

  Another barrier emerged to protect them, followed by a rge explosion. The city shook in the light of the incident as a portion of the building colpsed like a house of paper cards, half of it destroyed. As the rubbles and debris settled below, the Knights of Streya found his unscathed figure standing atop the destroyed structure.

  Duke Streya immediately ran towards it and stared intently at Karel’s bloodstained figure with only a sword in his hand. His teal eyes met those soulless bright golden orbs possessing an unfathomable depth, devoid of anything.

  Seeing the duke’s concerned look, Karel slightly bowed his head and dematerialized his weapon. During the process, his features returned to normal. He looked around then, at the aftermath of what he did and realized his grave mistake.

  “This is bad. My magic is all over the pce.” In the end, he chuckled to himself and wiped the bloodstain off his cheek. “Looks like I’m really attracted to chaos.”

  The duke ordered the knights to descend and they passed by his lone figure there. Karel walked towards the duke and yet maintained his distance as the other victims rushed towards him. Some bowed and even kowtowed in gratitude for his help.

  “This is my duty,” he replied nguidly.

  “How can that be? You are not—”

  “Cooperate with the knights.”

  “But…”

  “Duke Streya can help you.” He shooed them away. “Go on, be free.”

  They shared knowing looks but one among the younger werebeasts looked up to him, hopeful. “Then, please indulge us once.”

  “About?”

  “You’re a Ramayan, right?”

  Duke Streya also heard the question and waited for his answer. The other immortals already mingled with the humans millennia ago and yet the most elusive race of Ramayans rarely did.

  Karel then smiled a little, patting the young werebeast’s head. “Yes. So, I need to get out of here soon.”

  “Wait a minute, sir!”

  Karel waited for the duke to stand before him. Duke Streya craned his neck to look him in the eye. Despite his already tall stature, the Ramayan before him stood taller.

  “Tell us your name at least.”

  He chuckled as he stepped backwards, executing a perfect noble salute. “Karel Marles from the Great Empire of Ramaya.”

  “A noble from the empire?” most of the victims excimed and the older ones shushed them into silence.

  “I shall excuse myself now, Duke Alexandro Streya. My identity needs not be exposed more than this.”

  Karel stepped backwards again, into the awaiting portal behind him.

  Duke Streya stared intently at his figure disappearing beyond the dark portal and a frown repced his somber expression. With his sensitivity to the elements and divine powers, he noticed the two forces moving towards his direction. As the highest authority as of the moment, he must deal with it.