Chapter Nineteen
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A few steps from the hall's door, the Lord of Shadow paused for a moment.
He saw the Lord of Mist walking away down the long corridor, wrapped in the shadows of the evening. His steps were calm and confident, as though nothing had happened.
This man… had killed his ally and walked out of here as if he had just finished a routine task.
The Lord of Shadow looked at his hands. They were still trembling from the aftermath of the battle. Then he stared at the door leading to where the others were gathered.
I have two choices.
The first: enter and tell the captain everything I know. About the Lady of the Whip, about the Lord of Mist, about the wound that does not resemble the wound of the Lord of Threads. About everything.
The second: remain silent. Keep this secret. And use it when the right moment comes.
He remembered the words of the Lord of Mist a few days earlier, when they had met by chance in the market:
"Secrets, my friend… are the only currency that never loses its value."
He closed his eyes for a moment. Then opened them.
He made his decision.
---
He entered the hall.
Fargas looked at him with those sharp blue eyes and simply asked:
"You're late. Where were you?"
The Lord of Shadow bowed slightly, then replied in a low voice:
"I was tracking the enemy after his withdrawal. But I lost his trail at the edge of the forest."
Rashid looked at him. Then the Lord of Sand. Then Fargas.
"And what did you find?"
"Nothing. Only some traces of blood. It seems he suffered severe wounds. He may not survive if he doesn't find treatment quickly."
Fargas slowly nodded.
"Very well. We'll send patrols at dawn. If he's still nearby, we'll find him."
---
The Lord of Shadow sat in the empty chair, avoiding everyone's gaze.
But inside, his mind was calculating.
Lord of Mist… I know your secret now. And that secret is worth a great deal. But I must be careful. He is more dangerous than I imagined.
---
Elsewhere – At the edge of the forest
Karsu sat beneath the gigantic tree, his body exhausted, yet his eyes remained open, watching the changing sky.
He looked at the wound in his side. The bleeding had finally stopped, but the skin around it had turned black, and the vein beneath the wound had begun to swell with a dark purple color.
The poison is still in my veins.
He raised his hand and looked at the sweat dripping from his forehead. The sweat was grayish, sticky, as if something dead were leaving his body.
Recycling his aura had forced some of the poison out, but most of it remained.
I thought the poison would kill me within hours. Now… days. Perhaps a week.
He rose with difficulty, leaning against the trunk of the tree.
This isn't an ordinary poison. This poison… was crafted with care. Its ingredients are rare.
He remembered the moment when the Lord of Shadow had stabbed him twice. The first blade had been coated with a normal poison. The second—the one that struck his side—was different. More concentrated. More lethal.
The Lord of Shadow didn't make this poison himself. He bought it from somewhere. Or—
He stopped.
Or perhaps the poison wasn't originally meant for him. Perhaps it had been prepared for this battle specifically. Perhaps it was meant for a life-and-death fight against a difficult opponent.
He sighed.
"There is no point blaming the past or luck. In the end, we walk along a straight line that cannot bend…"
---
He looked at the dense forest before him.
He knew that returning to the city now would destroy his plans. He would inevitably become the prime suspect.
Even if there was no logical connection linking him to the Lord of Threads—he was known as the Lord of Rock, and his Qaz belonged to the flexible class, and the Lord of Threads' Qaz was also from the flexible class—though the common people believed the Rock Qaz to be defensive in nature, experts such as the High Council understood the truth, and that was what mattered.
In their eyes, the presence of two Qaz from the flexible class within the same Qaz Lord was something that could not happen. The chance of someone possessing the potential to hold two Qaz of the same class appeared perhaps once every hundred years.
Or at least that was what the villagers believed.
This was aside from the fact that it was already rare for a third-level Qaz Lord to enter the city—so how could there be two?
Within just a few days, two killers appeared, both third-level Qaz Lords. Who would fail to notice the rarity of such a situation and the similarity involved?
Even if they were not the same Qaz Lord, they might be allies.
And beyond that, his body was exhausted, his energy low, and the poison was devouring him from within.
But I cannot remain here either. They will search for me. They will send patrols. And if they find me in this state…
He did not finish the thought.
He reached into his inner pocket and pulled out a fragment that had not been fully exhausted from his last energy stone. It was small, dull, barely glowing.
But this is enough to move me. And that is all I need.
His fingers closed around it.
So… I will need an antidote. And there are only two ways to obtain it.
The first: find it in the black market within the city. But that would mean returning to the place most dangerous for me.
The second: make it myself.
He smiled.
I have always loved chemistry, alchemy, and mathematics.
He looked again at his wound.
Then—with a swift motion—he cut a small wound in his healthy arm. A drop of blood fell onto a nearby leaf. He examined it: its color, its texture, the speed at which it dried.
The poison relies on an extract from the Black Vine plant mixed with the venom of the Spiral Serpent. Its natural counteragent is—
He slowly raised his head, staring at the leaves of the gigantic tree.
This tree… its leaves contain an alkaline substance that neutralizes Black Vine poison.
He reached out and plucked a leaf. He rubbed it between his fingers, smelled its scent, then placed it on his tongue for a moment.
His body shuddered. His eyes widened.
Yes. This is it.
But the Spiral Serpent… its only antidote lies within its own glands. I must find a Spiral Serpent. And extract its venom—no, its counter-venom—from it.
He looked into the depths of the forest.
And this forest… contains everything.
He stood up. Took a step.
Then stopped.
Behind him, he heard a faint sound. The rustling of leaves. Not the wind.
He slowly turned.
Nothing.
But he knew someone was watching him.
---
A corpse hung beneath the sun by shining threads, dripping blood quietly. Its eyes were wide open, tears of blood trembling within them like a carefully painted work of art.
It was a young man, barely in the prime of life, suspended between two branches high in the air, bound by those silver threads.
Karsu looked at the corpse again, his mood darkening. Then he stared into the deeper forest, which was still within the city's boundaries and therefore not truly dangerous.
"Just a villager… but he was arrogant and selfish. Personally, I wouldn't have done what he did."
He fell silent for a moment, as if contradicting his own words.
"Well… perhaps if I were in his place, I might have done the same. But people like him have no right to compare themselves to me."
He said this while remembering how he had made sure to kill the Lord of Transparency without damaging his core, so as not to harm his Qaz.
But unfortunately, the Lord of Transparency had been so furious and spiteful that when he realized death was inevitable, he crushed all the energy in his core and attacked his own Qaz.
A subdued Qaz has no defense against its master, for it is now bound to the will of its owner.
There had been no defense at all.
And with the Lord of Transparency attacking the Qaz of concealment itself, the Qaz could do nothing but die in agony under the assault of its own master.
---
At the guard headquarters, the meeting dispersed.
Everyone left one after another.
Rashid was the last to leave.
In the long corridor, the Lord of Shadow stopped him.
"A word."
Rashid halted.
"What do you want?"
The Lord of Shadow stepped closer and lowered his voice.
"In the battle… I saw something. Something no one else saw."
Rashid looked at him with serious eyes.
"And what was that?"
The Lord of Shadow smiled a cold smile.
"That is a secret. And secrets… have a price."
Rashid remained silent for a long moment.
Then he said quietly:
"If you have something to say, say it. But if you're playing games, I am not your partner."
He turned and walked away.
Leaving the Lord of Shadow standing in the corridor, watching him.
You are far too good, Rashid.
And the good ones—as the Lord of Mist said—do not live long.
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