CHAPTER 17: CHAPTER 17 - THE AFTERMATH.

In the hours that followed the blood-soaked poetry of Kael’s footsteps, the city did what cities always do when the world shifts.

It talked.

Loudly.

Frantically.

Wildly.

Above all, the city added numerous fabricated details.

It was all because, for the first time in ages, the city that had been moving in the same momentum seemed to have changed.

An unknown entity had appeared and caused chaos in the city of Veldera.

Now, his deeds were all everyone was talking about.

..........................

In the upper district, where the rich people lived, it was always about celebrations.

They were rich, so they didn’t need any reason to celebrate.

They gave out a party if they bought a new slave. They did the same if their slave died.

It was like, "You bought a dog? Man, I want a party!"

The hotels in the upper district were never empty.

Today, it was the same.

People were enjoying their time—that was until they weren’t.

They twirled their mustaches and clutched wine glasses like lifelines as panic was served with lunch.

"Did you hear?" Gasped Guard Captain Gilfrey, who had never gasped before in his life. "They say the City Lord exploded. Just—poof! One moment he was there, and the next, meat paste!"

He was drunk and heard someone talking about it in the far corner. So, he couldn’t help but share it with his partner.

"Shh," Carmelle, who had personally married four wealthy men into early graves, Gilfrey’s partner for the day, and one of the best slave traders in Veldera, hushed him, her expression panicked. "Keep your voice in check!"

It was true that everyone was already talking about it, but that didn’t mean they could be open about it.

After all, it was a matter of the city lord Renvir Baneron, the son of Marquess Baneron’s death.

But then, Carmelle leaned forward, muttering loud enough for Gilfrey to hear. "Also, I heard he was turned into a frog and then eaten by demihuman witches, which is far more believable."

"No, no," insisted a passing butler, who was definitely not supposed to be eavesdropping. "He got... mind-crushed. Crushed! By a single glare! Like... squish! Like grapes!"

Gilfrey and Carmelle turned toward the butler with a deadpan expression, and the butler, realizing his mistake, coughed politely, turning toward Gilfrey with a polite smile.

"Would you butter, sire?"

That was what came to his mind first, and he said it.

Poor butler destroyed his career with that one line.

..........................

Meanwhile, in the market district, the location closest to Renvir’s death and also the place where Kael had crushed some guards before, the discussions were more about Kael than Renvir.

The people in this part of the city didn’t care about the city lord. They were traders, so none of their works were affected by the city lord’s death.

Yes, they were curious about what would happen when Marquess Baneron got the news of this incident, but these people loved to live in the present, so they didn’t think much about it.

"A god? Are you mad?" Said a baker, elbow-deep in dough. "He’s just a powerful mercenary. You can tell by his boots. Good boots. Kill-a-noble boots. I’m getting myself a pair."

"I heard he made three girls faint by smiling at them," whispered a lady tailor to a gaggle of sewers. "That smile should be illegal."

But it was the brothel streets where the real stories were being told.

One says something, and others repeat it, telling others the same thing.

It kept on repeating since this was the place where it had all gone down.

At this point, no one even knew if they were still facts or just collective therapy.

"He walked. Just walked," said a glassy-eyed brothel guard, chain-smoking as if his soul had barely survived. "And men behind him... just... died."

A young prostitute leaned in, eyes gleaming. "Did he really make the girls fly?"

"Fly!" The guard wheezed. "Spinning and laughing! Like petals in spring!"

"Gods," the girl whispered. "I want to fly."

"Not me," said another, a demihuman with pointed ears. "I just want him to smile at me. That’d be enough."

"Ahem," grunted a madam as she stormed past. "Y’all need to focus! Who’s gonna run the house now that the City Lord’s gone, huh? Also, what do you think is coming for that guy now?"

No one answered.

Because no one knew.

However, they knew one thing: the one who had bound them to slavery was gone.

The city lord, who had been using them as money cows, was now dead.

But were they free?

They didn’t think so.

The nobles wouldn’t let them off—not when they could still generate income for them.

However, they—mostly the girls—felt like they wouldn’t have to worry with Kael there with them.

It might be a fool’s hope, but seeing Kael dominate the ground with his presence alone, the people of this distant, bordering city, who hadn’t seen people who could be called strong, felt that Kael was the strongest.

But even if it was for a while, and even if they were to be killed later, the girls in the brothel street and the slave men who had been working here as guards, seeing their kind suffering but being unable to do anything, felt like it would be fine.

At least they would die after tasting freedom.

For now, they had no overseer, no threats, and no shadow looming over every mistake.

There was just... silence, and the soft echo of golden eyes and bloodied boots.

They wanted to enjoy this for as long as they could.

A cluster of girls—maids, vendors, street kids, and one mysterious old woman who kept appearing in different hats—who were enjoying their freedom, were gathered beneath the windows of a modest inn at the edge of the brothel street.

"...Is he in there?" A girl whispered.

"I saw him go in," another replied breathlessly. "With the silver-haired bunny girl, twin fox girls, and that tall mature woman."

"I bet he’s resting after vaporizing that noble like a birthday candle," muttered one of the older girls, eyes sparkling.

"...What do you think he is?" Asked a tiny demihuman, perched on a crate. "A god? A demon? Or maybe an elf?"

"Elf? They are myths. No one knows if they exist. Above all, I can bet my everything that he looks way better than any of those mysterious elves could ever look," someone said.

They pressed against the window more eagerly.

Inside, sprawled dramatically across a too-small sofa, was the man in question.

Kael.

He lay sprawled on a narrow couch, one leg dangling off the armrest, his arms folded behind his head.

He looked like a man pretending to nap, but he was listening to every word. Though the only thing he could hear was Rue humming some off-key tune while rearranging a pile of apples into a pyramid.

Other than that, a soft and warm hush was covering the room. The kind that wrapped around shoulders like a blanket after a long storm.

Alenia sat by the window, legs crossed, sipping from a chipped cup of tea.

Rue—the pink-haired and purple-eyed twin—sat cross-legged beside Lyra, while Rina—the purple-haired and pink-eyed twin—was curled half-asleep against her shoulder.

Lyra had wrapped her arms around both girls, as if afraid they might disappear the moment she let go.

Kael’s golden gaze flicked over to them, smiling as he felt relaxed. It was way better than sleeping on the mossy floor next to the lake.

However, he had also noticed the way Lyra kept glancing at him, so he smiled.

"You okay over there?" He asked, his voice low and warm.

Lyra looked up at him. "We should be asking you that."

He smirked. "I’m on a couch. I’ve got tea. Above all, no one’s bleeding on me. So, I’m thriving."

Lyra gave a soft laugh, relieved, but not quite relaxed. She studied him carefully, brows furrowed.

"...If everything’s normal, then how can you be like this?" She asked quietly.

She continued before Kael could ask anything else. "Back in the forest, you didn’t even know clothes were a thing. You wanted to come flying into the city without changing into your human form. Now, you’re making girls laugh like a trained courtier. What happened?"

Kael blinked, gaze turning thoughtful.

He understood what Lyra was trying to ask.

If he didn’t remember anything about his past, then how could he be so good with people?

Looking back at it now, he couldn’t help but be confused.

"I don’t know," he admitted. "It just... happened. Like, I remember what to do the moment I want to do it."

Thinking back about the bleak atmosphere of the brothel street, Kael’s expression turned soft.

"When I saw the condition of the girls who served customers with a dead look in their eyes, I wanted to make them smile."

He looked at the girls in Lyra’s arms. "When I saw them scared, I knew I had to make them laugh."

Then he looked at his arms, speaking more to himself than to Lyra. "Whenever I feel like I must do something, I know how to do it. It’s like I know everything, but I can’t recall it until I must."

Alenia tilted her head, curious. "Wait, what are you two talking about? What forest? What instincts?"

Kael didn’t answer right away. Instead, he looked toward Lyra.

She hesitated, then returned the look with a silent question in her eyes. ’Can I?’

Kael gave a small nod. "Go ahead. I don’t mind."

Alenia raised a brow. "Mind what? What’s going on?"

Kael smiled again—not sly, not mischievous. It was just kind.

"I suppose it’s time you learned who you’re drinking tea with," he said.

Lyra let out a long breath and shifted, holding the girls a little closer.

Outside the window, the street buzzed with rumors and wonder.

But inside that little room, truths were about to be shared—and the girls were still smiling.