Lucan walked through the streets with his hands relaxed at his sides. No one stopped him. No one called out to him. A few gazes followed him, but none sought conversation.
It was a kingdom that refused to see itself defeated.
Further ahead, he saw Garrick carrying a reinforced beam with two other men. He didn’t speak, only adjusted the weight and coordinated the movement. His breathing was heavy, but steady.
Elira organized the wounded beneath an improvised canopy. Her instructions were soft, yet no one ignored them.
Selene distributed water with a calm that seemed learned by force.
Kael tried to help—too quickly—stumbling and rising again without complaint.
Lucan paused for a few seconds.
Then he noticed Eldric.
He stood slightly apart, leaning against a half-rebuilt wall. He wasn’t working with his hands at that moment. He was observing. Adjusting with his gaze. Calculating without directly intervening.
Lucan approached without announcing himself.
"So… a grandfather now," he said with a faintly mocking tone, almost casual. "Didn’t picture you in that role."
Eldric didn’t seem surprised. He only tilted his head slightly.
"Some things arrive whether we expect them or not."
Lucan glanced toward Kael, who was trying to lift something far too heavy for him.
"Looks like they don’t need too many orders."
The wind lifted fine dust between them.
Lucan crossed his arms.
"Renar talked about reorganizing everything."
"He will."
"And?"
Eldric didn’t respond immediately. He watched his family for a few seconds longer before turning toward Lucan.
"He’s capable."
Lucan held his gaze.
"That doesn’t answer the question."
Eldric nodded faintly.
"Alaric maintained balance. Renar maintains structure. It’s not the same."
Lucan didn’t react.
"But these aren’t times for balance," Eldric added calmly. "These are times for containment."
Silence settled between them.
The sound of wood and metal marked the rhythm of the place.
Lucan lowered his voice.
"The one who came wasn’t looking for territory."
Eldric shook his head slightly.
"Then he isn’t finished."
Eldric looked at him directly.
"Men who execute a strike like that rarely act on impulse."
Lucan gave a small nod.
And the matter ended there.
In the square, the gathering was not announced with trumpets.
The news simply spread.
Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
People began assembling in the central plaza without needing to be pushed.
Renar stepped onto an improvised platform.
The murmur gradually faded into silence.
Lucan remained at the edge of the crowd—close enough to hear clearly, distant enough not to feel part of its center.
Renar spoke without raising his voice unnecessarily.
"The attack was not an invasion."
Direct.
"It was not an attempt at conquest."
He looked at the crowd without dramatics.
"It was a targeted action."
Some faces hardened.
"We will reinforce the kingdom’s borders. We will review vulnerable points. The council will be reorganized until the structure is stable again."
"Tomorrow we will honor Alaric and all the fallen."
The name landed with real weight.
"The funeral will take place at dawn."
A low murmur moved through the plaza.
Renar continued.
"By joint decision of the remaining leaders, I will assume direction of the kingdom until further notice."
There were no protests.
No celebration either.
It was expected.
Lucan observed the faces around him.
Part of the crowd showed restrained enthusiasm, while in others acceptance prevailed.
Renar did not extend the speech.
"We are not weakened. We are adjusting."
Then he stepped down.
The crowd dispersed in order.
There was no chaos.
The structure still held.
The sky had lost its last trace of light when Eldric approached again.
"I’ll be at their house tonight," he said naturally. "There’s space."
It was an invitation.
Lucan looked toward where Garrick and the others were already beginning to leave.
There was something compact about them. Something closed, though not excluding.
Still.
Lucan shook his head slightly.
"I understand it’s a family moment."
Eldric watched him without interrupting.
"I don’t belong to that."
He didn’t say it with resentment.
He said it like someone acknowledging a boundary without arguing it.
The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable.
Eldric held his gaze a second longer than usual.
He didn’t correct the statement.
Didn’t soften it.
Didn’t contradict it.
"As you wish," he replied at last.
That was all.
They walked together for a few meters before parting.
The streets were beginning to empty.
Lights flickered on behind closed windows.
Lucan continued alone.
The kingdom breathed more slowly now.
And so did he.
The night was not completely silent.
There were isolated footsteps.
Doors closing.
Wind dragging dust along the stones.
But the general noise of the day had faded.
Lucan walked without a fixed direction, hands relaxed, body outwardly without tension.
Three steps.
Four.
Five.
Then he noticed it.
A second rhythm.
Not louder.
Not faster.
Simply… out of sync.
He stopped.
The sound stopped.
The wind passed between the walls.
Lucan did not turn immediately.
He resumed walking.
One.
Two.
Three.
The echo returned.
Shorter this time.
More precise.
It wasn’t clumsy.
It wasn’t uneven.
It wasn’t a drunk man.
It wasn’t a child running.
It was someone controlling their weight.
Lucan subtly reduced his pace.
The echo did the same.
And then—
Movement at the end of the street.
A silhouette crossed beneath the faint light of a distant torch and turned a corner with speed.
Lucan changed direction without calling out to anyone.
The figure did not run like someone fleeing.
It moved like someone who knew the terrain.
Lucan turned the corner.
Then, to the left—a brief motion between shadows.
He followed.
Each step seemed calculated to leave no audible trace.
That was what convinced him fully.
This wasn’t a thief.
The figure entered a narrower passageway, one that during the day served as a secondary connection between commercial streets.
Lucan knew it.
But not well enough to anticipate every exit.
The space grew darker.
More enclosed.
The air colder.
For a second he thought he had lost it.
Then he saw it.
At the far end of the passage—a still silhouette.
Back turned.
Waiting.
Lucan slowed.
He didn’t speak.
The distance between them wasn’t great.
But enough to keep the face concealed.
Wind cut through the passage, lifting dust.
The figure stepped sideways—
Into a blind angle.
Lucan advanced two more steps.
And lost it.
It simply stopped being there.
Lucan halted.
He remained motionless for several seconds.
Not out of fear.
Analyzing.
He looked at the ground.
There were no clear marks.
But the dust nearby had shifted in a specific direction.
Someone had been there.
Someone had turned just before disappearing.
It wasn’t imagination.
It wasn’t his own echo amplified by stone walls.
It was deliberate.
And then—
From a point he could not identify—
A voice.
Exactly loud enough to reach him.
"Soon, you’ll understand."
There was no mockery in the tone.
No urgency.
Only certainty.
Lucan turned toward the source.
Nothing.
Darkness contained between walls.
He moved toward where he believed the voice had come from.
Empty.
The wind crossed the passage again.
Lucan exhaled slowly.
"This can’t be paranoia anymore," he muttered to himself.
His pulse was steady.
His mind was not.
Someone had guided him.
Someone had wanted him to follow.
And had succeeded.
Lucan remained there a moment longer before stepping back toward the mouth of the passage.
He didn’t know who it was.
He didn’t know how they moved without leaving a trace.
But he knew one thing with absolute clarity:
It had not been an accident.
And it had not been an empty test.
The funeral at dawn would not be the only event of the next day.
And this time, the certainty did not come from the seal.
It came from the simplest fact of all.
Someone was inside.
And they were watching him with intention.
End of Chapter 26
