CHAPTER 15: CHAPTER 15 - “I’LL TAKE CARE OF THE REST.”

Inside the dim room with the painted sign "Street Lady," the air stank of perfume and sweat, and the mood was anything but welcoming.

Two guards stood watch, both armored, spears in hand, sneers carved into their faces. The insignia of some noble house sat on their chest plates, quiet but obvious.

"How long we waiting?" one asked, shifting his weight.

"Don’t know. Mark’s already gone to fetch the Lord. They’ll show up soon enough. Fish is caught, isn’t it?" the other said.

The "fish" was Lyra.

She was bound tight to a wooden pillar, wrists and ankles rubbed raw where the ropes cut in. A rag stuffed between her teeth gagged her. Her pale face was streaked with grime and sweat, white hair hanging over her shoulder in messy clumps.

Her head hung low, almost lifeless—until she twitched.

Her lashes flicked, her chest jerked, and she sucked in a muffled gasp through the gag. Her eyes opened.

For a moment she looked lost. Then her gaze locked on the guards, and the fear shot through her like lightning.

Her muffled cry cut the air.

"HELP!! KAEL!!"

The two guards snapped toward her.

"She’s awake?!"

"Shut her up!" the shorter one hissed, darting glances around the room.

The taller guard stepped forward, lowering his spear until the point was almost against her cheek. "Quiet, bitch," he growled.

Lyra shrank back, teeth grinding against the cloth in her mouth. Her body trembled, but her eyes blazed up at them anyway, defiant.

The short one leaned close to his partner, whispering, "Think anyone heard that?"

The taller scoffed. "Through three walls and a brothel full of whores screaming? Not a chance."

Then—

Boom.

The whole building rattled.

The guards froze.

A heartbeat later, the door exploded.

KRA-KRAK-THOOM!

The slab didn’t just break—it shattered. Splinters the size of knives spun through the air, wood exploding like something had punched through from the outside.

And standing there, framed by smoke and shards, was Kael.

The dragon didn’t move right away. His golden eyes cut through the dust, his hair catching the glow of the lamps. To him, time slowed.

He smelled oak and iron in the air. His gaze traced every detail—the guards twisting toward the door, Lyra flinching with her eyes screwed shut... and then he saw it.

A scatter of jagged wood, flying straight at her.

He didn’t think.

Flash.

He was there.

Between her and the shards.

Thud-thunk-thud.

The splinters cracked against his skin, some breaking to powder, some bouncing off the faint shimmer of power that coiled tight around him.

Time caught up.

The guards gaped at the wrecked doorway.

"What the hell was—?"

"Where’s the door?!"

They stepped forward like idiots, still trying to make sense of the missing entrance.

Kael turned his head slowly toward Lyra.

She felt the weight before she saw him. Her eyes opened, and there he was, crouched in front of her.

’Kael...’

The name rushed through her chest like breath after drowning.

"You’re okay now," he said softly, his voice calm but heavy, carrying a sharp edge beneath. "I’m here."

With a flick of his hand, the ropes slid loose like cut thread. The gag unraveled, falling limp. He brushed a lock of hair from her face. "You did well, Lyra. I’ll handle the rest."

The temperature in the room plummeted.

The guards finally noticed him.

One blinked, his face twisting into horror. "Wh-what—?! How the—when—?!"

Kael rose to his feet, slow and deliberate, until he stood tall, his shadow stretching across them.

They panicked, leveling spears. "Y-you bastard! You’re under arrest for—!"

Kael didn’t let him finish.

He flicked his hand.

Crash.

Both guards were ripped from the ground, bodies spinning through the air like tossed dolls, smashing through what was left of the doorway, across the street, into the wall opposite. The stone cracked, blood smeared the surface, and they didn’t move again.

Silence fell heavy.

Lyra curled against the broken pillar, staring wide-eyed at the man before her.

Kael turned back, crouching again, the harsh glint fading from his eyes. His mouth softened. "Can you stand?"

She blinked, still shaking. "Y-yeah. I... I think so."

He steadied her as she rose. His hands were gentle, warm. Safe.

Outside, the street had gone dead quiet.

Every witness—the drunkards, the brothel girls, Raquif and his men—stared slack-jawed.

Kael stepped out with Lyra at his side. Behind them, the doorframe still smoked.

Whispers broke out.

"He just—"

"They didn’t even scream..."

"Did you even see him move?"

"He’s... terrifying. But still..."

Kael’s eyes swept the crowd, brushing briefly over Evethra, then turned back to Lyra.

"What happened? Where are your siblings?"

Her chest locked. The relief she had just felt shattered.

The ambush. The empty room. The missing faces.

"I—I was following the plan!" she said quickly, panic rising. "We were supposed to meet the manager here—Alenia! She helped me when I escaped! She’s human, but she’s kind. She hid my sisters. She kept them safe."

Kael’s gaze didn’t shift.

Lyra’s voice cracked. "But when I got in—she wasn’t there. I called out and—something hit me from behind! I didn’t even see who. But she wasn’t there, so that means..."

Her knees buckled, but Kael caught her.

"...it means they were already taken," she whispered, horror filling her eyes. "Kael, my sisters! They—they might already be dead!"

Her words spiraled into panic. "Alenia too! Please! They’re all I have left!"

Kael clenched his jaw, teeth grinding. For a moment, the urge to tear the whole city down surged hot in his chest. But then he looked around. Demihumans filled the streets. This was their city too.

He breathed, forcing the rage back.

His thumb brushed away her tears. "Breathe."

That’s all he said.

Then he froze.

His head turned, golden eyes narrowing on the crowd. Something was off.

The warmth of the street bled away. His presence pressed down like a weight. People stiffened, shrinking back. Some stumbled, others trembled. Even those who’d cheered for him earlier couldn’t meet his gaze now.

But his eyes weren’t on them.

A voice rang out.

"Looking for these three?"

The crowd parted.

A man walked through—fine navy robes trimmed in silver, hair slicked back with oil, a smirk on his lips. Arrogance dripped from every step. Soldiers flanked him.

And between them, three figures.

Two small girls with fox ears, cheeks streaked with tears. And a woman—Alenia—her dress torn, her eyes burning with fury despite the blade pressed to her throat.

Lyra’s breath caught. "R-Rue! Rina!"

She tried to run forward, but froze when blades pressed against their necks.

"No!" she cried. "No, please!"

The street was silent.

Kael didn’t move.

The young noble stopped ten meters away, the sinking sun throwing long shadows. His smug gaze slid over Lyra, then landed on Kael.

"So... you’re the one they’ve been talking about," he said, brushing at his gloves. "The man who bends metal like paper. Who throws men without lifting a finger."

Kael didn’t reply.

The smirk widened.

"Here’s how this goes. You don’t move. You don’t twitch. You don’t even breathe funny. Or these three die. Simple as that."

The crowd shivered at the word "die."

Lyra trembled, whispering, "No..." She turned to Kael, searching his face for some reaction. Rage. Desperation. Anything.

But Kael was still. His golden eyes half-closed, his expression carved in stone. His shoulders loose, his brow calm. Only the faint grind of his teeth betrayed him.

And the air.

Ssshhhhhh.

It shifted, heavy and strange, like the whole street had stopped breathing.

Lyra’s heart thudded as his eyes met hers.

Then he closed them. Slowly.

He fought the urge to lose control, because if he did, everyone here would die.

When he opened them again—

BOOM.

The ground quaked under the weight of his power.

Kael’s pressure ripped out of him, raw and merciless. For the first time, his full strength pressed down on the world.