The evening had deepened by the time Kel returned to the inn.
Lanterns burned along the corridor walls, their dim amber light casting long shadows across polished wooden floors. The scent of wax and old timber lingered faintly in the narrow passageway. Footsteps from distant rooms echoed intermittently—travelers settling in, merchants counting coin, someone laughing too loudly after drink.
Kel walked steadily down the corridor toward his room.
His expression remained calm.
Measured.
But his thoughts were moving several steps ahead.
He stopped before the door, unlocked it, and stepped inside.
The room was modest yet orderly. A writing desk stood near the window, where faint moonlight filtered through thin curtains. Two chairs faced each other near a small circular table. The bed had been left undisturbed since morning.
Kel removed his gloves slowly and set them neatly upon the table.
A knock came shortly after.
Three soft taps.
He did not need to ask who it was.
"Enter."
Reina stepped inside.
She had removed her outer cloak; her silver hair fell freely down her back, catching the faint lanternlight from the corridor before the door closed. Her expression was serious—not alarmed, but intent.
She locked the door behind her and walked toward the center of the room.
"We should speak privately," she said quietly.
Kel nodded once.
They moved toward the small table and sat opposite each other.
For a moment, neither spoke.
The silence between them was not uncomfortable—it was focused.
Reina folded her hands lightly upon the table's surface.
"I gathered information from within the tower," she began.
Kel leaned back slightly in his chair.
"Report."
Her silver eyes met his directly.
"Among the thirty high-ranking mages who served more than thirty years under the previous Tower Master…"
She paused briefly.
"…twenty were truly loyal."
Kel's gaze sharpened faintly.
"Loyal to the institution," she clarified. "Not merely to the former master."
Kel did not interrupt.
Reina continued.
"They had no complaint regarding Arna's succession."
"On the contrary," she added, "many believed he should inherit leadership."
Kel's fingers rested lightly against the armrest.
"Then why did they resign?"
Reina's expression shifted subtly.
"Because they believed he was unprepared."
Kel's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Unprepared?"
Reina nodded.
"Arna was fourteen when his father died."
"Yes."
"He did not complete his training under the former master."
Kel remained silent.
"The twenty loyal veterans wished to guide him."
"To teach him the responsibilities and complexities of leadership."
Reina paused, studying Kel's reaction.
"They requested advisory authority."
Kel's expression did not change.
"And?"
"Arna refused to delegate decision-making power."
Kel exhaled slowly.
"He followed his father's will."
"Yes."
Reina's voice softened slightly.
"He was determined to honor his father's principles exactly."
Kel's gaze drifted momentarily toward the window.
Moonlight painted pale streaks across the floorboards.
"So they left," he said quietly.
"Yes."
Reina tilted her head slightly.
"They believed they could not support him effectively without influence."
"And Arna would not compromise."
Kel nodded once.
"That aligns with what I sensed."
Reina leaned forward slightly.
"But that is not the critical part."
Kel's attention returned fully to her.
"The remaining ten," she said.
"The other ten among the thirty long-serving masters…"
Her voice grew colder.
"…did not leave for mentorship disagreements."
Kel's fingers stilled.
"They sought control," Reina continued.
"They expected to guide Arna."
"No."
She corrected herself.
"They expected to control him."
Kel's eyes darkened faintly.
"And when he refused?"
"They withdrew influence."
"Funding."
"Research networks."
"Staff."
Reina's gaze did not waver.
"Some rumors suggest they pressured external guilds to avoid collaboration with the Twin Magic Tower."
Kel remained composed outwardly.
Inside, his thoughts aligned rapidly.
Twenty opportunists from mid-tier tenure.
Ten long-serving manipulators.
Thirty uncertain veterans.
"And the rumor?" he asked quietly.
Reina hesitated briefly.
The faintest crease appeared between her brows.
"There is more."
Kel's voice lowered slightly.
"Speak."
Reina held his gaze steadily.
"Among those ten…"
She paused.
"…someone may have had a hand in the assassination of the previous Tower Master."
The room seemed to grow colder.
The lanternlight flickered faintly.
Kel did not react visibly.
But the air around him shifted subtly.
"Rumor," he repeated calmly.
"Yes."
"Source?"
"Whispers among older archivists and one senior assistant who resigned shortly after."
Kel leaned forward slightly now.
"What exactly is rumored?"
Reina inhaled slowly.
"That the assassination was too convenient."
Kel's eyes narrowed faintly.
"Convenient?"
"The former Tower Master was strong," she continued. "Respected. Seventh circle."
"Yes."
"His assassination during a diplomatic visit remains unresolved."
Kel's mind replayed records he had skimmed earlier.
Ambush.
Political tension.
External blame.
Reina continued.
"Some within the tower believed internal political fractures had escalated beyond debate."
Kel's voice became quieter.
"Meaning?"
"Meaning," Reina said carefully, "that someone benefited significantly from his death."
Silence pressed heavily between them.
Kel's gaze lowered briefly to the wooden grain of the table.
Assassination rarely emerges without motive.
If certain masters sought control—
And the former Tower Master resisted—
Then…
He lifted his gaze again.
"Names," he said.
Reina nodded.
"I did not confirm directly."
"But among the ten…"
She spoke one name first.
Then another.
Then—
Varent Solmere was not among them.
Kel's mind sharpened instantly.
Varent was one of the twenty mid-tenure opportunists.
Not one of the ten long-serving potential conspirators.
Interesting.
"So the structure divides," Kel murmured softly.
Reina tilted her head slightly.
"Explain."
Kel's voice became analytical.
"Twenty mid-tier opportunists repositioned for advantage."
"Ten senior long-serving manipulators withdrew influence when denied control."
"And among those ten…"
He paused.
"…possible involvement in assassination."
Reina nodded slowly.
"Yes."
Kel leaned back into his chair.
The spiral beneath his spine rotated steadily.
Upward.
Downward.
Refining.
"So the trash is layered," he said quietly.
Reina did not flinch at the phrasing.
"Yes."
Kel's expression remained unreadable.
"We do not move against the twenty first."
Reina's eyes widened slightly.
"Not Varent?"
"No."
"Why?"
Kel's gaze sharpened faintly.
"Varent benefits from external guild alignment."
"If attacked first, the ten will remain silent and observe."
Reina absorbed this quickly.
"You intend to fracture the ten first."
"Yes."
"If assassination rumor spreads…"
Reina's voice trailed slightly.
Kel completed the thought.
"They will turn on each other."
Silence deepened.
Reina studied him carefully.
"You intend to use rumor."
"Yes."
"Carefully."
Kel's tone was calm.
"Assassination is not accusation."
"It is question."
Reina's expression shifted subtly.
"You will ask publicly?"
"No."
Kel's lips curved faintly.
"I will allow the question to surface naturally."
The same strategy he had used in the tavern.
Seed.
Direction.
Withdrawal.
Let imagination amplify.
Reina folded her hands together again.
"You believe someone among those ten truly had a hand in it?"
Kel did not answer immediately.
Instead, he stared toward the window.
Moonlight glinted faintly against the glass.
"I believe," he said slowly, "that power vacuums are rarely accidental."
Reina's posture straightened slightly.
"And if it is false?"
Kel's eyes returned to her.
"Then the innocent will defend themselves."
"And reveal alliances."
Reina exhaled slowly.
"You are not merely cleaning trash."
Kel's expression remained composed.
"I am identifying rot."
Silence lingered for several breaths.
Then Reina asked quietly—
"And Arna?"
Kel's gaze softened almost imperceptibly.
"He remains unaware."
"For now."
Reina nodded once.
"He trusts you."
Kel's expression did not change.
"That is why we must be precise."
The lantern flame flickered again, casting shifting shadows across the walls.
Outside, the city had grown quieter.
Inside the small inn room—
The architecture of dismantling had begun forming.
Ten manipulators.
Twenty opportunists.
Thirty uncertain veterans.
Three hundred departures.
One month.
Kel stood slowly from his chair.
He walked toward the window and pulled the curtain slightly aside.
The moon hung pale and distant above the city rooftops.
Behind him, Reina rose as well.
"You will rest?" she asked softly.
"For a few hours."
He released the curtain.
"Tomorrow we begin phase two."
Reina inclined her head.
"And the rumor?"
Kel's gaze darkened faintly.
"It must move slower than today's."
"Controlled."
She nodded.
As she moved toward the door, she paused briefly.
"Be careful."
Kel's voice was quiet.
"I always am."
When the door closed behind her, the room fell silent once more.
Kel remained standing by the window.
The spiral beneath his spine rotated endlessly.
A dying tower.
A fractured hierarchy.
An assassination unresolved.
The rot ran deeper than simple ambition.
But rot—
Could be exposed.
And once exposed—
It could not hide behind pillars any longer.