The room seemed to hold its breath.
Seraphine's gaze dropped to the scrolls, then back to him — sharper now, wary, calculating.
Everyone wants Devil intelligence.
She leaned in slightly. "How do you know him, Kaelion?"
Kael gave a half-smile, the kind that didn't reveal much — but hinted at everything.
"Oh… you could say he's my special friend."
Seraphine blinked.
The weight of those words hung in the air, and her expression shifted—calculating, surprised, even a touch amused.
But behind her eyes, Kael saw it: hesitation. Caution.
She wasn't sure if he was bluffing… and that was exactly what he wanted.
By calling the Devil his "special friend," Kael subtly planted a defensive wall.
No one in their right mind would torture or pressure a man who claimed any kind of connection to that monster — not if they feared revenge.
Not if they thought there was even a chance it was true.
Seraphine leaned back slightly, folding her hands with a renewed, careful smile.
"Well then, Kaelion… I suppose that makes you a very special guest."
Kael's inner monologue flickered like a blade's gleam.
'That's right. Keep wondering. As long as you think the Devil might come for me... I stay untouchable.'
She leaned back, studying him with a thoughtful smile.
"So… what do you want in return?"
Kael offered a half-shrug, casual but deliberate.
"I want nothing. But he — the Devil — wants all important information. And gold. For selling his loot to you."
A pause followed. She tilted her head, weighing something behind her bright green eyes.
Then — a soft, genuine laugh. "Clever. Alright. I accept."
She then added, "But what about the map?"
Kael nodded. "I'll take a look. Give me a copy. If I can decode it, I'll be back."
She motioned, and a rolled parchment was handed to him.
"No pressure then."
Then, almost as an afterthought, she added,
"There's no urgent news today, so for now… take 1,000 gold per scroll."
Kael's eyes flicked with interest.
'Market value is 700... she's paying 300 more.'
He gave a faint smirk. "Deal."
Kael took the heavy bag of 8,000 gold coins, its weight settling against his hip as he turned toward the door.
He didn't look back.
His voice, however, was clear — calm and edged with a quiet warning.
"There's one more thing," he said. "Don't keep an eye on me."
A pause. Silence.
Then: "You know the Devil… he's overprotective in nature. And if he senses a threat, he won't stop. He can bring your entire organization to ruin."
The air in the room shifted — cold, tense.
Behind him, one of the masked men bristled, stepping forward, rage flickering behind his eyes.
But Seraphine raised a single hand.
"Enough," she said softly.
Kael didn't wait for a response. He pushed open the door and walked out, the quiet sound of it closing behind him like the hush before a storm.
***
Kael emerged from the alley, slipping back into the bustling city. Once he was a safe distance away, he let out a sharp laugh — short, breathy, half-disbelieving.
"Ha… aha. I actually pulled it off."
With practiced ease, he slipped a few gold coins into his upper pocket — bait for any curious eyes — and carefully stashed the rest in the folds of his inner satchel, wrapping them in cloth and tying it close to his side.
He was starving.
Moments later, Kael strolled into one of Whitewright's finer establishments — a hotel reserved for the wealthy or the reckless.
He walked straight to the front desk, eyes half-lidded, posture casual, and dropped five gold coins onto the counter.
"I'd like a room. And…" he paused, pulling another pouch from his side and placing it down with a heavy clink,
"…your finest noble attire. Preferably something around a hundred gold."
The innkeeper nearly choked, his eyes bulging at the sight of the gold.
Guests around him turned sharply, some whispering, others outright gawking. One man leaned to get a better look — and froze as Kael turned slightly.
The young man's face. That unmistakable smirk. Eyes sharp, expression too casual for someone carrying that much money.
"The third son of Duke Drenlor…?"
Murmurs rose like wind in dry leaves. Even those who might have considered robbery shrank back, unease prickling their skin. Nobody in their right mind messed with nobles — and certainly not the Drenlor family.
Not publicly.
Kael was soon shown to his room — a lavish, sunlit suite on the second floor.
He entered, locked the door, and exhaled.
The bath was steaming and ready.
The clothes — deep emerald and black silks with golden threading — arrived moments later.
As he stepped out of the bath and dressed, Kael caught sight of himself in the mirror.
Slick hair, glowing skin, noble robes fit for a prince.
He chuckled, then smirked.
Kael quickly gathered all his coins, stuffing them back into his satchel. Without hesitation, he exited the room, his mind already set on the next move.
At a bustling tavern nearby, he ordered a lavish lunch—20 gold coins worth of food spread out before him. The aroma was rich; the taste, even better. He ate quickly but savored every bite. Once done, he paid the hefty sum without flinching.
A carriage awaited him at the curb. Kael climbed in, tossed the driver 2 gold coins, and leaned back as the vehicle rumbled through the city streets.
Finally, the carriage stopped in front of a narrow, unassuming shop with a small glowing sign — "Mystic Emporium."
Kael stepped inside, the soft chime of bells announcing his arrival.
The shop was filled with all manner of magical trinkets and artifacts, shelves lined with shimmering crystals, ancient tomes, and strange curiosities.
A tall attendant in dark robes looked up and greeted him warmly.
"What can I do for you today?"
Kael said without hesitation, "I want a space ring."
The attendant's eyes twinkled knowingly. "Ah, our premium product. That will be 2,000 gold coins."
Without blinking, Kael placed the gold on the counter.
The attendant nodded and carefully took his measurements.
Moments later, he handed Kael a sleek black ring — simple in design, yet exuding an aura of power.
"This ring grants you a personal space — roughly the size of a single room. Safe, private. Perfect for study or rest."
Kael slipped the ring on his finger, feeling a faint hum of magic pulse through him.
He smirked. "Now that's more like it."