"Perfect," he whispered to himself.
Carefully, he wrapped a coarse cloak around his mouth and nose, concealing his features further.
Without hurry, he stepped down from the carriage and melted into the bustling streets, his movements measured and quiet, becoming just another face in the crowd.
Kael had spent some time researching the kingdom's shadowy underworld, and what he uncovered left him unsettled.
The largest and most powerful organization controlling the black market was known simply as The Veiled Serpent.
For years, it had operated silently, weaving an intricate web of information trade, forbidden goods, and political influence across the entire kingdom.
The terrifying part was this:
The king and the dukes seemingly had no quarrel with The Veiled Serpent. In fact, many whispered that they maintained secret agreements—silent pacts that kept the fragile balance of power in place.
This meant that ordinary people, even ambitious knights, had no hope of reaching the Serpent directly.
Only the most powerful nobles or those with immense influence could negotiate or purchase information through their carefully guarded channels.
You might wonder how Kael planned to find them.
The truth was, they had already reached out—not to Kael, but to Kaelion, the so-called magicless boy.
Kael pulled a small, black card from his pocket, its surface smooth and cold. Etched in dark green was the unmistakable image of a serpent coiling with silent menace—a tattooed symbol known only to those who moved in shadows.
'Why would they want Kaelion?' he wondered, a flicker of unease stirring inside him.
After all, the quiet, introverted Kaelion had simply shifted the card aside in a forgotten drawer, never daring to use it.
But now, Kael was going to use it.
After some walking, Kael finally reached the silent front of the ruined mansion. The place looked abandoned for decades, walls crumbling, windows dark and empty.
He pulled out the card from his left pocket, feeling a bit ridiculous as he followed the instructions exactly as the letter had described:
First, he slid the card into the right pocket of his trousers.
Then, he moved it from the right pocket to his shirt pocket.
Finally, he transferred it back into the left pocket of his trousers.
Each motion made him feel more like an idiot, performing this strange ritual in the middle of the empty street.
Once done, Kael stood still, biting his lip as he waited.
Five minutes passed.
Nothing.
"What…?" he muttered, brows furrowing in confusion.
Suddenly, a sharp clatter of wheels broke the silence. A sleek black carriage pulled up with surprising speed for such a ruined street. The horses neighed once and stilled.
Suddenly, Kael spotted movement — a lone figure approached atop a sleek, dark carriage, moving swiftly down the quiet, ruined street. The horses halted without a sound.
The man stepped down. He wore no cloak of nobility, no sigil — only a simple tunic and gloves. But what caught Kael's eye was the flash of black and green in his hand.
The same card.
Without a word, the man raised two fingers and gestured: follow.
Kael nodded, falling in step behind him.
They weaved through silent alleys, each more forgotten than the last. Moss-covered stone, rusted lanterns, buildings that hadn't seen life in decades — it was the kind of place that even beggars avoided.
Eventually, they stopped before a blank stone wall.
The man turned and pointed — not at a door, but at a groove of the wall exactly the size of the card.
Kael frowned but inserted the card into a thin groove carved into the stone.
Just as he was about to turn to the man to ask what next—
THUD!
The man didn't hesitate. With one fluid motion, he lunged forward and kicked Kael square in the back.
"What the—?!" Kael shouted — but too late.
His body flew forward and passed straight through the wall as if it were smoke.
The cold stone never touched him — instead, there was a strange pull, like being yanked through a veil of water.
He stumbled inside, arms flailing, and barely caught himself on the other side.
Kael blinked.
"…Could've just said it was a door," he muttered, stepping inside.
It was a narrow, dim corridor — damp stone walls barely lit by flickering green lanterns. The air smelled of dust and secrets.
Kael steadied his breath. His face was exposed now — but no one seemed to care.
Ahead, a tall figure in green-black robes turned silently and began walking.
"Follow me," the man said — voice low, clipped, and without emotion.
Kael gave a short nod and stepped forward, his boots echoing softly on the stone floor as the corridor swallowed him whole.
Soon, they stopped near a large, iron-framed door. The man in black-green robes said nothing, simply turned and stepped aside.
Kael sighed. "Why is everyone here allergic to talking?" he muttered, pushing open the door himself.
The moment he stepped in, the scent of jasmine and spice filled his nose — warm, intoxicating. The contrast to the cold stone corridor was startling.
Then he saw her.
Lounging on a velvet sofa was a woman of stunning beauty — almost otherworldly.
Long black hair tumbled over her bare shoulders, and her emerald eyes gleamed like a predator's in candlelight.
Her clothes were barely that, designed more to draw attention than cover skin.
"Welcome to the Veiled Serpent, Kaelion," she purred, voice dipped in honey and shadows.
Kael froze, blank.
His brain stalled.