The night felt wrong.
Not dangerous—Siles was used to danger.
This was something colder.
Something that settled beneath the skin and refused to leave.
The estate of Eldoria stood quiet under the moonlight, its tall walls guarding secrets instead of people. Torches burned low. Guards moved in their routines.
Everything looked the same.
But nothing was.
—
Inside her chambers, Liora stood motionless.
She hadn't lit the candles.
Moonlight alone illuminated the room, casting pale silver across her face—but her expression was darker than the night itself.
Her mind replayed the words.
Over.
And over.
And over again.
—
She wasn't meant to hear it.
The corridor behind the western hall was rarely used—servants avoided it, guards rotated away from it.
But Liora had always noticed the spaces others ignored.
That was why she stopped when she heard voices.
Her uncle's voice.
And her mother's.
"…he's becoming uncontrollable."
That was her uncle.
Low. Sharp. Irritated.
Seraphine's voice followed, calm as ever.
"That was inevitable. You chose to bring him here."
A pause.
Then—
"I didn't expect him to grow this fast."
Liora had leaned closer to the door, barely breathing.
"He's not the problem," Seraphine continued softly.
"He's the spark."
Her uncle scoffed. "And sparks burn kingdoms."
Silence.
Then—
"We don't need him anymore."
Liora's heart had stopped.
"…what?"
Her uncle's tone hardened.
"The boy served his purpose. The mercenary group is built. The nobles are watching. The balance is shifting."
A cold breath.
"Now he's a liability."
Liora's fingers tightened against the wall.
"No," Seraphine said quietly.
And for a moment—just a moment—Liora felt relief.
But then—
"Not yet."
That word shattered it.
"We let him grow a little more," Seraphine continued. "Draw more attention. More enemies."
A faint sound—glass touching wood.
Then her voice lowered.
"And when the time comes… we hand him over."
Silence.
Heavy.
Final.
Her uncle exhaled slowly. "…to them?"
"Yes."
Liora didn't know who them was.
But she knew it wasn't something human.
—
Then came the words that broke everything.
"She's grown attached," her uncle muttered.
A pause.
Then Seraphine—
cold… distant… unfamiliar—
"She'll understand."
"…she's your daughter."
Another pause.
Longer this time.
And then—
"No."
Liora's breath caught.
"She was never mine."
The world tilted.
"I raised her," Seraphine continued, voice steady, almost bored. "That doesn't make her blood."
Her uncle said nothing.
Didn't argue.
Didn't question it.
And that silence said more than anything else.
Liora's legs nearly gave out beneath her.
"…then whose?" he finally asked.
Seraphine's answer came like a blade.
"Lord Varell."
The name echoed in Liora's skull.
A name she knew.
A name whispered in power circles.
A man feared. Respected. Dangerous.
Dead.
"…impossible," her uncle muttered.
"He died years ago."
Seraphine's tone didn't change.
"Yes."
A sip of tea.
"But not before leaving behind a problem."
Silence.
"…and her real mother?"
Liora felt something in her chest crack.
Seraphine answered without hesitation.
"Dead."
The word was simple.
Empty.
Like it meant nothing.
"Died when the girl was young. Weak woman."
Liora couldn't hear anything after that.
The voices blurred.
The world collapsed into silence.
—
Now—
Standing alone in the dark—
Liora's hands trembled.
Not from fear.
From something far worse.
Understanding.
Everything had been a lie.
Her family.
Her blood.
Her place.
Even her name.
—
A soft knock broke the silence.
She didn't answer.
The door opened anyway.
Siles stepped inside.
He stopped the moment he saw her.
Something was wrong.
He could feel it instantly.
"Liora."
She didn't look at him.
"…we're leaving."
Siles' eyes narrowed slightly.
"Now?"
"Yes."
Her voice was steady.
Too steady.
"Tonight."
Silence stretched between them.
Siles studied her.
The tension in her posture.
The emptiness in her eyes.
"…what happened?"
Liora finally turned.
And for the first time—
Siles saw something he had never seen in her before.
Not anger.
Not sharp intelligence.
Not control.
But something broken.
"They were going to sell you."
The words landed without warning.
Cold.
Precise.
Final.
Siles didn't react immediately.
"Your usefulness," she continued, voice low, "was temporary."
A pause.
"And it's already running out."
Silas appeared behind Siles without a sound.
He had heard enough.
Understood enough.
His voice was quiet.
"…who?"
Liora shook her head slightly.
"I don't know."
Then she looked at Siles again.
"But it doesn't matter."
A breath.
"We leave Eldoria."
Another.
"We leave Anzania."
Her voice hardened.
"We disappear."
Siles' gaze sharpened.
"Run?"
Liora stepped closer.
"No."
Her eyes burned now.
Not with emotion.
But with purpose.
"We become something no one can control."
Silence.
Then—
"A real mercenary band."
The words settled into the room like a declaration.
"No ties. No nobles. No contracts we don't choose."
Her jaw tightened.
"No masters."
Silas watched her carefully.
"…and where do we go?"
Liora didn't hesitate.
"Far."
"Beyond both kingdoms."
"Somewhere even power has limits."
Loria held her gaze.
For a long moment—
He said nothing.
Then—
A faint smile touched his lips.
Not amused.
Not light.
But… approving.
"Good."
—
Midnight came without warning.
No alarms.
No chaos.
Just quiet movement.
Efficient.
Clean.
Adam' group gathered at the outer edge of the estate—shadows among shadows.
Weapons ready.
Supplies minimal.
No hesitation.
Liora stood at the front.
She didn't look back.
Not once.
—
From a high balcony—
Two figures watched them leave.
The Count exhaled slowly.
"…she knows."
Seraphine stood beside him, expression unreadable.
"Yes."
"…should we stop them?"
A pause.
Then—
"No."
Her eyes followed Liora's retreating figure.
"Let her go."
Another pause.
"For now."
The Count frowned slightly.
"And the boy?"
Seraphine's lips curved faintly.
"If they survive what's coming…"
Her voice softened.
"…then he might become something worth fearing."
—
Beyond the walls—
Beyond the reach of Eldoria—
The group moved into the darkness.
No banners.
No names.
No protection.
Only themselves.
And the unknown.
Liora walked beside Adam
Her voice was quiet.
But certain.
"From now on…"
She glanced at him.
"We build something of our own."
Adam looked ahead.
Into the endless dark.
And for the first time—
It didn't feel like uncertainty.
It felt like freedom.
"…then we don't stop," he said.
Behind them—
Silas melted into the shadows.
Watching.
Waiting.
Ready.
Predators—
unchained.
—
Far away—
In a distant city untouched by Eldoria's influence—
A message arrived.
Black wax.
No crest.
The man who received it smiled faintly as he read the single line inside.
The target has left the cage.
He stood slowly.
Eyes gleaming with interest.
"Good."
His voice echoed softly in the empty room.
"Now the hunt begins."
—