CHAPTER 136: ESCAPE THROUGH SMOKE.

Kael held the small bead between his thumb and forefinger. To anyone watching, it might have looked like a meaningless fidget, just a boy toying with something small.

But in his mind, the moment was already set. (if there are no other choice, then like how the novel did, i will do the same)

His other hand shot up, knocking the guard’s wrist aside with quick, practiced precision.

The man’s eyes widened in surprise—he wasn’t prepared for Kael’s light, fluid movements, so unlike the heavy, braced style of trained soldiers.

Kael twisted his body, slipping between the first guard and another. His shoulder brushed past them, sending the halberd off-balance.

At that same moment, the bead slipped from his hand, falling toward the cobblestones like a hidden secret.

It struck the ground with a soft thunk—and then it hissed.

In an instant, thick gray smoke exploded outward, rolling over the street like a living thing. It spread fast, curling around boots, coiling up legs, climbing over cloaks and skirts.

It swallowed the cobbles, blurred the lantern light into soft glowing halos, and muffled every sound.

A guard tried to shout, but his voice turned into a harsh cough, his words breaking apart in the air. Footsteps became faint and distant, like echoes in a dream.

Through the dense smoke, Cecelia’s eyes went wide in panic. "Kael!" she cried, her voice already being devoured by the choking mist.

She reached out blindly, her hands moving as if she could feel her way through the fog and somehow find him.

Kael caught sight of her pale hand cutting through the gray. In the next heartbeat, his fingers closed around hers. Her skin was warm, and beneath it, he felt the quick flutter of her pulse—like the frantic wings of a bird.

For a brief, dangerous moment, the world shrank to just that touch. Cecelia’s gaze locked on him, her eyes shimmering with fear yet strikingly beautiful.

The way she looked at him seemed to knock the air from his lungs, and for one foolish, fragile instant... he almost forgot that they were still surrounded by danger.

Kael could never forget what happened.

Through the thick smoke, soldiers pushed forward with outstretched gloved hands, swinging their halberds without being able to see clearly.

One tripped over a crate. Somewhere, a child cried, mixing with the coughs of grown men.

Kael squeezed Cecelia’s hand for a moment, then let go.

He knew he had to disappear, to move like a ghost through the gaps where no one could see.

The smoke hid him from view, but it wasn’t a perfect shield—he still had to move carefully.

The city’s details were sharp in Kael’s senses: the uneven gaps between cobblestones, a crooked drainpipe, rooftops that dipped and rose.

He could smell the leather of soldiers’ armor, the faint tang of metal—and mixed with it, the scent of Cecelia’s perfume.

That smell twisted something deep in his chest.

"Kael!" Cecelia’s voice cut through the haze. This time it wasn’t angry—it was desperate, aching, as if she was calling to someone she loved.

Her words hit him like a stone. For a moment, he wanted to turn back. The ground beneath him suddenly felt solid and cold, like reality pulling him in.

But he’d already slipped through their net. He darted down a narrow alley behind an apothecary, squeezing through the tight space between two buildings.

The air there was damp and smelled of mold and old paper. He flattened himself against a stack of barrels as a soldier’s boots pounded past—close enough to touch.

He held his breath. The soldier passed without seeing him.

From the shadows, Kael peered back into the square. Shapes moved in the smoke.

Erianlia’s dark robe swirled as she stood up slowly by guards, their lanterns throwing harsh ovals of light.

A merchant shouted at them to stop. Somewhere, a stand crashed to the ground with a noise like a gunshot.

And then—Cecelia. She stood alone, lit from behind by a lantern, arms out as if she could grab Kael out of the smoke.

"Kael!" she shouted again. Kael’s heartbeat stuttered as he watched her turn slowly in place, looking for him.

Then she sank to her knees, shoulders shaking. The sight nearly broke him. He pressed his back against the barrels and closed his eyes, fighting the urge to rush to her side.

But Kael knew he couldn’t stay. Not now. Not with the city closing in and Erianlia’s guards hunting him like prey.

Beside him, the small beggar child—who had been watching from the shadows—trembled, clutching his ragged clothes.

Without hesitation, Kael scooped the boy up into his arms. The child’s wide eyes met him for a moment, silently pleading for safety.

Kael’s decision was clear. He should protect the child, no matter the cost.

With swift, careful movements, he slipped from the alley, weaving through smoke and shadow.

The crowd’s noise and confusion gave him cover. He left Cecelia behind, her voice still ringing in the smoky air, her silhouette still framed by the lantern’s glow.

He didn’t look back.

The city’s danger was too great. For now, survival meant running—and carrying this small life with him through the dark.

Erianlia slowly pushed himself up from the ground, grimacing as pain radiated through his body.

Blood still trickled from the corner of his mouth, but his eyes burned with fury and determination.

His face twisted into a harsh sneer as he fixed his gaze on Kael.

"Let’s see what your boyfriend is really capable of," he growled, standing tall despite the ache in his limbs. "I’m going to handle this myself."

His voice carried the weight of authority, sharp and cold like a blade.

He took a deliberate step forward, the heavy boots striking the cobblestones with purpose. The crowd that had gathered held their breath, waiting to see what would happen next.

Then, almost as an afterthought, Erianlia’s eyes narrowed as he added in a low, dangerous tone, "So, your name is Kael, huh?"

Kael’s heart skipped, the name hanging between them like a challenge.

Erianlia’s gaze hardened. "Don’t tell anyone about this. Especially not our father."

The words carried an unspoken threat. There was no room for mistakes or gossip—this matter was to be kept buried. The implication was clear: if their father found out, the consequences would be far worse for everyone involved.

Kael met Erianlia’s glare steadily, though inside, tension coiled tightly.