Valdris appeared on the horizon three days later.

  It wasn't like the other towns we'd passed through. Those had been small, disorganized—places where a few guards patrolled the main road and everyone else just tried to survive. Valdris was different.

  The walls were higher. Stone, not wood. Guard towers stood at regular intervals, manned by soldiers in matching armor. I could see the church spire rising above the rooftops, its white stone gleaming in the afternoon sun like a beacon.

  Or a warning.

  "That's a lot of guards," Kaelith said quietly.

  "I can see that."

  "They're organized. Disciplined."

  "So?"

  "So we need to be careful."

  I glanced at her. "I'm always careful."

  "You killed four bandits three days ago."

  "They deserved it."

  "I'm not saying they didn't. I'm saying you can't do that here." She gestured toward the city. "Look at it. That's not a town. That's a fortress pretending to be a town."

  Valdris wasn't just bigger—it was controlled. Every road leading in had a checkpoint. Every gate had guards. I could feel the weight of organization pressing down on the place, suffocating and absolute.

  "We go in, find out where my family is, what they're doing, who they're connected to," I said. "Then we plan."

  "Plan what?"

  "How to destroy them without getting caught in the process."

  "And if someone recognizes you?"

  "No one knows what I look like."

  "They know what dark magic feels like," she said. "And you're not exactly subtle."

  I scowled. "I can control it."

  "Can you?"

  I didn't answer.

  The truth was, my power had been growing. Every life I drained, every spell I cast—it made the darkness inside me stronger, louder. And lately, I'd noticed people reacting to it even when I wasn't actively using magic.

  They'd flinch when I walked past. Avoid eye contact. Move to the other side of the street.

  It used to satisfy me. Proof that I was dangerous. Proof that I mattered.

  But in a place like Valdris? It would get me noticed. And noticed meant investigated. And investigated meant dead or captured.

  "Fine," I said. "We'll be careful."

  "This isn't a quick job," I said. "We're going to be here for a while."

  "How long?"

  "As long as it takes."

  Kaelith nodded, but I saw the doubt in her eyes.

  -

  The checkpoint was worse than I expected.

  Two guards stood at the gate, both armed with swords and crossbows. Behind them, I could see more soldiers patrolling the walls. A priest in white robes stood off to the side, watching the line of travelers with cold, calculating eyes.

  "Papers," the guard said when we reached the front.

  "We don't have papers," I said.

  "Then you don't enter."

  "We're just passing through. We'll be gone by tomorrow."

  "Doesn't matter. No papers, no entry." He looked past me at the next person in line. "Move along."

  I felt the darkness stir in my chest, hot and eager. It would be so easy. One spell. One drain. I could kill both guards before they even drew their weapons.

  "Master," Kaelith said softly.

  I looked at her. She shook her head slightly, her violet eyes steady.

  Not here. Not now.

  I clenched my jaw and stepped aside, pulling her with me.

  "What now?" she asked once we were out of earshot.

  I turned to face her, my voice low and sharp. "We need to know where my family is. Their routines, their guards, who they're connected to. And we need to understand what that priest is doing here—whether the church is actively hunting, or just watching."

  "So we need to get inside."

  "Yes. But not like this. Not drawing attention." I glanced back at the checkpoint. "That priest—he's looking for something specific. Dark magic, probably. If I walk through that gate radiating power, he'll feel it."

  "Then we need someone who can move through the city without triggering alarms. Someone who knows the layout, the guard patterns, where your family operates from."

  "And where exactly are we supposed to find someone like that?"

  She was quiet for a moment, her gaze drifting back toward the gate. Then she said, "We need someone on the inside. Someone who can get us papers. Or at least get us through the gate without drawing attention."

  I scowled and looked around. The road leading to Valdris was busy—merchants, travelers, farmers hauling goods to market. Most of them had papers. Most of them walked through the gate without issue.

  But a few didn't.

  I watched as a man in worn leather armor approached the checkpoint. He didn't have papers either, but when the guard stopped him, he just smiled and said something I couldn't hear. The guard laughed, waved him through.

  No papers. No questions. Just... in.

  "Bribery," I muttered.

  "What?"

  "That's how he got through. He bribed the guard." I reached into my coat and pulled out a small pouch of coins. "We'll do the same."

  "And if they refuse?"

  "They won't."

  I walked back to the checkpoint, Kaelith trailing behind me. The same guard who'd turned us away looked up, his expression already hardening.

  "I told you—"

  "I know what you told me." I held up the pouch, letting the coins clink together. "But I think we can come to an arrangement."

  The guard's eyes flicked to the pouch, then back to my face. "Bribing a city guard is a crime."

  "So is turning away travelers without cause." I stepped closer, lowering my voice. "We're not here to cause trouble. We just need a few days to rest and resupply. That's all."

  He hesitated.

  I reached out with my power—not to kill, not to drain him dry, but just enough. A thin thread of darkness slipped from my fingertips and wrapped around him, invisible to everyone but me. I pulled gently, siphoning off just a fraction of his life force.

  Not enough to hurt him. Not enough to make him collapse.

  Just enough to make him tired.

  His shoulders sagged slightly. His eyes dulled. The tension in his jaw eased, replaced by a bone-deep weariness that made arguing seem like too much effort.

  "Fine," he said, his voice flat. He took the pouch without counting it and waved us through. "Go. Just... go."

  I nodded and walked past him, Kaelith close behind.

  The priest was still watching, but he didn't move. Didn't speak. Just stared as we passed through the gate and into the city.

  Stolen story; please report.

  Once we were inside, Kaelith leaned close and whispered, "What did you do?"

  "Made him tired."

  "That's all?"

  "That's all he needed to be."

  She was quiet for a moment, then said, "You're getting better at that."

  "At what?"

  "Control."

  I didn't answer.

  -

  Valdris was everything I expected and nothing I was prepared for.

  The streets were wide and clean, lined with stone buildings that rose three and four stories high. Merchants hawked their wares from colorful stalls, their voices blending into a constant hum of noise. Guards patrolled in pairs, their armor polished and their weapons sharp.

  And everywhere—everywhere—there were people.

  Nobles in fine silks. Commoners in rough wool. Beggars huddled in alleyways. Children darting between carts. The sheer density of it all made my skin crawl.

  "We need a place to stay," Kaelith said.

  "Somewhere quiet. Somewhere we won't be noticed."

  "Good luck with that."

  She was right. In a city this size, blending in would be nearly impossible. But staying on the streets would be worse.

  I spotted a tavern near the edge of the market district—small, unassuming, the kind of place that catered to travelers who didn't want to be remembered. Perfect.

  "There," I said, nodding toward it.

  We crossed the street and pushed through the door.

  The tavern was dark and crowded, filled with the smell of ale and sweat. We found a table in the corner, away from the main crowd, and I ordered food and drinks from a serving girl who barely looked at us.

  "We need information," Kaelith said quietly once the girl had left. "About your family. Where they are, how many guards they have, what their routines look like."

  "I know."

  "And how exactly are we supposed to get that information?"

  I didn't have an answer.

  The serving girl returned with our food, and we ate in silence. The tavern was loud—voices overlapping, laughter echoing, the clatter of mugs and plates—but I barely heard any of it. My mind was already working through the problem.

  I needed to know where my family was. I needed to know their weaknesses. And I needed to do it without drawing attention.

  "You're the kid from the gate."

  I looked up.

  A man stood beside our table—older, maybe thirty, with scars on his hands and a coldness in his eyes that reminded me of my own. He wore worn leather armor and carried a sword at his hip, the kind of weapon that had seen real use.

  "Who the hell are you?" I asked.

  "Name's Corvin." He pulled out a chair and sat down without waiting for an invitation. "Bounty hunter, mercenary, problem-solver—depends on who's paying."

  My hand moved to Nightfall's hilt.

  Corvin didn't flinch. "Relax, kid. If I wanted you dead, you'd already be dead. I'm not here to collect a bounty."

  "Then what do you want?"

  "I want to know why a dead noble's son is walking around with a dark elf slave, bribing guards with a side of life-draining magic." He smiled faintly. "I was at the gate. Saw what you did. Subtle, I'll give you that. Most people wouldn't have noticed. But I'm not most people."

  My jaw clenched. "You're making a mistake."

  "Am I? Because from where I'm sitting, you're the one making mistakes. Walking into Valdris with dark magic practically radiating off you, heading straight for the heart of Silvertin territory, and leaving a trail of bodies behind you." He leaned back in his chair. "That's not a plan. That's suicide."

  "What do you want?" I repeated.

  "I want to help."

  "Why?"

  "Because I don't like the church. Because I think you're interesting. Because I'm bored." He shrugged. "Pick whichever reason makes you feel better."

  I studied him. He wasn't afraid. Wasn't trying to manipulate me. He was just... watching.

  "What do you want in return?" I asked.

  "Information. you came to Valdris for a reason, and I want to know what it is." He paused. "And in exchange, I'll tell you everything you need to know about this city, your family, and how to tear down everything they've built—without getting yourself killed in the process."

  Kaelith leaned forward. "How do we know you're not working for them?"

  "You don't," Corvin said simply. "But if I was, you'd already be in chains. The Silvertins pay well for traitors and dark mages." He looked at me. "So. Do we have a deal?"

  I was quiet for a long moment.

  Then I said, "Fine. But if you betray us, I'll kill you."

  Corvin smiled. "I'd expect nothing less."

  -

  "Valdris is the seat of House Silvertin," Corvin began, his voice low enough that no one else could hear. "Your family controls the northern trade routes, which makes them rich. Very rich. They've got allies in the capital, connections to the church, and enough soldiers to hold their territory against anyone stupid enough to challenge them."

  "I know all that."

  "Do you know they're at war?"

  I froze. "What?"

  "Not officially. But House Draymore—another noble family to the east—has been pushing into Silvertin territory for the past year. Skirmishes on the border, trade routes getting raided, merchants going missing. Your family's been bleeding resources trying to hold them off."

  "Why haven't I heard about this?"

  "Because they're keeping it quiet. If word gets out that House Silvertin is weak, every rival family in the kingdom will start circling like vultures." He took a drink. "But it's happening. And it's getting worse."

  I leaned back in my chair, processing. "How does that help me?"

  "Because your family is distracted. They're focused on Draymore, which means their defenses here in Valdris are thinner than usual. Guards are being pulled to the border. Resources are being diverted. If you're smart, you can use that."

  "And if I'm not smart?"

  "Then you'll walk into their estate, get yourself killed, and I'll collect the bounty on your corpse." He smiled. "But I don't think you're that stupid."

  Kaelith spoke up. "What about the church? They're everywhere in this city."

  "They are," Corvin agreed. "The church has been looking for a dark mage—young, uses shadow magic, carries an enchanted blade. Sound familiar?"

  My chest tightened. "How many people know?"

  "Not many. The descriptions are vague, and half the bounty hunters in the city are chasing ghosts. But the paladins are serious. If they catch you, they won't ask questions. They'll just kill you."

  "Then I'll take them down first."

  "That's the spirit." Corvin leaned forward. "But here's the thing, kid. You can't just walk into the Silvertin estate swinging a sword. Your family has guards, wards, and enough magical defenses to stop an army. If you want to destroy them—really destroy them, make it hurt—you need to know what they have to lose. You need to know their connections, their secrets, where their power actually comes from."

  "And you can give me that?"

  "I can point you in the right direction. The rest is up to you."

  "Then why are you helping me?"

  "Because like I said before I don't like the church," he said simply. "And because I think you're going to do something interesting."

  -

  I didn't answer.

  Corvin sighed. "That's what I thought. Here's the problem, kid. Your family isn't just a family. They're a system. They've got allies, enemies, debts, obligations. If you destroy them without thinking about consequences, someone else steps in. Maybe House Draymore. Maybe the church. Maybe someone worse." He paused. "You want revenge? Fine. But if you're not careful, you'll just be trading one monster for another."

  "I don't care about the system."

  "You should. Because the system cares about you."

  I clenched my jaw. "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "It means you're not invisible, Darius. You've been leaving a trail. Bodies. Witnesses. Rumors. The church is already looking for you. If you move against your family recklessly, they'll know it was you. And then you'll have every paladin, bounty hunter, and mercenary in the kingdom hunting you down."

  "Let them try."

  "They will. And they'll win." Corvin leaned back. "You're strong, kid. I can feel it. But you're not invincible. And you're sure as hell not smarter than the entire church."

  I looked at Kaelith. She was watching me, her expression unreadable.

  "What do you think?" I asked.

  She hesitated, then said, "I think he's right."

  "Of course you do."

  "I'm serious, Master. If you move against them without a plan, we'll spend the rest of our lives running. Is that what you want?"

  "No. I want them destroyed. Completely."

  "Then we need to be smart about it," Kaelith said. "We need to know where to strike first."

  Corvin nodded. "That's the right question. Your family's power comes from three places: their wealth, their political connections, and their military strength. You want to destroy them? You need to dismantle all three."

  I leaned forward. "How?"

  "Start with the wealth. House Silvertin controls the northern trade routes—that's where most of their gold comes from. Cut off those routes, and you cut off their funding. No funding means no soldiers, no bribes, no influence."

  "And how do I cut off trade routes?"

  "Bandits. Mercenaries. Accidents." Corvin smiled faintly. "There are ways. But you'll need allies. People who hate your family as much as you do."

  "Like who?"

  "House Draymore, for one. They're already at war with your family. They'd love to see the Silvertins weakened." He paused. "But you'd have to be careful. Draymore isn't your friend. They're just your enemy's enemy."

  I processed that. "What about their political connections?"

  "That's trickier. Your family has allies in the capital, connections to the church. You can't just kill those people—it would draw too much attention. But you can discredit them. Expose their corruption. Make them toxic to associate with."

  "How?"

  "Information. Blackmail. Scandals." Corvin shrugged. "Every noble family has secrets. You just need to find them and make them public."

  Kaelith spoke up. "And their military strength?"

  "That's the easiest part," Corvin said. "Your family's soldiers are loyal because they're paid well. Stop the money, and the loyalty stops too. Some will desert. Others will turn on your family if they think there's profit in it."

  I stared at him, my mind racing through the possibilities.

  This wasn't just revenge. This was war. Strategic, calculated, brutal.

  "How long would this take?" I asked.

  "Months. Maybe a year." Corvin leaned back. "But if you do it right, by the time you're done, House Silvertin won't just be done. They'll be erased. No wealth, no power, no legacy. Just a name people spit on."

  I felt something dark and hungry stir inside me.

  That was exactly what I wanted.

  "I need to think about the details," I said finally.

  Corvin nodded. "Fair enough. But think fast, kid. The longer you stay in Valdris, the more likely someone's going to recognize you."

  -

  That night, we rented a room at the tavern.

  Kaelith sat by the window, staring out at the city. I lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

  "You're thinking too loud again," she said after a while.

  "I'm always thinking."

  "I know." She turned to look at me. "What are you going to do?"

  "Execute the plan. Piece by piece."

  "It's going to take time."

  "I know."

  She was quiet for a moment, then said, "Corvin's right, you know. About the system. About the consequences."

  "I don't care about consequences."

  "You should. Because I do."

  I looked at her. "Why?"

  "Because I want a life with you," she said simply. "And I can't have that if we're being hunted."

  The words hit me harder than they should have.

  "You keep saying that," I said. "A life with me. What does that even mean?"

  "It means I don't want to spend the rest of my existence running from one town to the next, watching you kill people until someone finally kills you." She paused. "It means I want something more than survival."

  "Like what?"

  "I don't know. A home, maybe. A place where we're not constantly looking over our shoulders. A future that isn't just... this."

  I sat up, my chest tight. "You think that's possible?"

  "I don't know. But it won't be if you keep doing what you're doing."

  I looked away. "I can't just let them live a easy going life like they have been they need to sufe as I have."

  "I'm not asking you not to make them suffer. I'm asking you to be smart about how you do it." She stood and walked over to the bed, sitting down beside me. "You want revenge? Fine. But make it count. Make them suffer in a way that doesn't destroy you in the process."

  I stared at her, my mind churning.

  She was right. Again.

  And once again I hated it.

  But more than that, I hated the fact that I was starting to care even more about what she thought. About what she wanted.

  About her.

  "I'll think about it," I said finally.

  She nodded and stood, walking back to the window.

  I lay back down, staring at the ceiling.

  Valdris wasn't just a target anymore. It was a web—complicated, interconnected, dangerous. And if I wasn't careful, I'd get caught in it.

  But maybe that was the point.

  Maybe revenge wasn't supposed to be clean. Maybe it was supposed to be messy, complicated, impossible.

  And maybe—just maybe—I needed to stop thinking like a monster and start thinking like a true predator.

  Because monsters destroyed everything.

  But predators? Predators were patient. Strategic. They waited for the right moment, the right weakness.

  And then they strike.

  I closed my eyes and let the darkness settle.

  Valdris was just the beginning.

  And I was going to make sure my family's place in it was destroyed.

  But not yet.

  Not until I was truly ready.