The group was gathered in a loose circle around the unconscious man, who kept trembling and muttering gibberish.

Their surroundings were still heated, as the destruction caused by Kael's attack was still fresh outside, and even his body was heated enough to warm the air.

The assassin lay bound at the center—wrists and ankles wrapped in blackened restraints fused by heat rather than knots. His chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven breaths.

Evethra stood close to Kael's side.

Very close.

Her fingers were laced with his, grip firm and possessive, as if letting go might allow the world to tilt again.

Kael didn't pull away. If anything, his thumb absently brushed against her knuckles, grounding himself.

This incident wasn't just a shock for others but also for him.

Because today, he realized just how powerful he was.

No, to be precise, he noticed how powerful he could get, because even the last breath attack wasn't his strongest.

If he had pushed all of his mana into that attack, then it would've been his strongest.

That meant he had the power to wipe out everything within a 100- or 200-kilometer (62- to 124-mile) radius.

As for how far the shockwave would extend, it was not something he could guess.

Even now, he was hoping that the shockwave of the last attack hadn't reached the area they hadn't scouted because there could be demihumans or humans living there.

Still, for now, he stayed calm, holding Evethra's hand.

That gesture, however, was noticed by everyone.

No one commented, though.

Most of them already knew that something was going on between Kael and Evethra, so they didn't think much.

Alenia spoke quietly to Lyra, her voice low but efficient, filling in what had happened—assassins, the ambush, the breath, the forest erased.

Lyra listened without interrupting, arms crossed, jaw tight.

However, as said before, most of them didn't think much about Kael and Evethra.

Lyra wasn't included in that 'most.'

Her eyes kept drifting.

To their hands.

Together.

Every few moments, her brow furrowed, lips pressed thin, something unreadable flickering behind her gaze before she forcibly dragged her attention back to the assassin.

Darian stood opposite them, posture rigid, eyes sharp. Selene stayed near Alenia, still shaken, but trying to look into the future, only to fail every time.

Because right now, whatever future she could see depended on Kael, and she had never been able to see Kael's future.

Vaelen, who was neither a captive nor a townsman yet, lingered farther back, pretending to be invisible and succeeding more than usual.

When Alenia finished explaining everything to Lyra, silence fell again.

Kael looked down at the man.

"…Alright," he said.

And kicked him.

The blow wasn't hard.

It didn't need to be.

The assassin's body jolted violently as the impact struck his chest, air ripping from his lungs in a strangled gasp.

"—HK—!"

His eyes flew open, pupils blown wide as he sucked in breath after breath, panic crashing into consciousness before understanding did.

Then—

Understanding did.

His gaze snapped upward.

To black hair.

Golden eyes.

A human shape that his mind knew was wrong.

The assassin screamed.

It tore out of him raw and broken, heels scraping uselessly against stone as he tried to crawl backward despite the restraints.

He was an assassin, trained to withstand torture, but when he recalled everything he had seen and how a dragon was literally standing before him, he couldn't help but panic.

"N—No—no no no—!" His voice cracked with terror bordering on hysteria. "Y—You—! I saw—! The fire—!"

His gaze darted wildly, searching—

The sky.

The square.

The people.

And then it landed on Kael again.

"You're—" His teeth chattered violently. "You're the dragon."

Kael crouched in front of him, calm, expression almost bored.

"Good," he said. "At least one of you was observant."

The assassin sobbed.

"I—I didn't know! We didn't know it was you—!" His eyes burned red with unshed tears. "The black fire—it ate the sky—I thought—I thought I was dead—!"

"You were close," Kael replied mildly.

That broke him.

But that didn't mean he would give in so quickly.

He was the most talented and strongest assassin in his organization, and he was even treated better than others. Still, he was given a provision in case something went wrong.

Now, the assassin found himself in a situation he had never thought he could; his breathing hitched sharply, eyes rolling, and he clenched hard on his jaw—

Too hard.

Kael's eyes flicked down.

"Oh," he muttered. "No, you don't."

His hand moved.

Smack.

The sound echoed across the square.

The assassin's head snapped sideways, a wet crack following as something small and white flew from his mouth, skittering across the stone.

A tooth.

Behind it—

The crushed capsule of poison was embedded within.

The assassin gagged violently, blood spilling from his lips as he choked, coughing and retching, eyes unfocused with shock.

Kael straightened.

"Suicide teeth," he said flatly. "Predictable."

The assassin stared up at him in horror, as he had never imagined a situation like this.

He had never prepared anything in case his suicide failed.

Because, honestly, he wasn't a trained assassin.

He was just a talented guy who could kill at the age of seven, a genius in the art of assassination.

Therefore, he reached his position without any struggle.

He was so talented that no one in his organization forced him to do anything, such as doing harsh exercises.

He did what he had to, and he killed whoever they asked. In return, he got money.

That was how it was, and that was how it was supposed to be.

But now, the guy couldn't even think straight.

As he looked at Kael, whose hand was raised, all he could do was shrink.

"N—no—please—!"

But before he could even complete his words, Kael snapped his finger.

Crack.

The scream that followed was inhuman.

Kael broke the assassin's hand without warning—clean, efficient, twisting until bone gave way under the pressure of telekinesis.

The sound made Valene, who was standing in the back, flinch and inhale sharply despite himself.

The assassin collapsed, shrieking, tears streaming freely now as his body shook uncontrollably.

Kael released him and stood.

Then he turned his head slightly.

"Alenia."

She met his gaze instantly, eyes cold and focused.

"Take him to the prison," Kael said. "Get everything out of him."

He handed the assassin over to her because she was the best one to get information out of others, as she could cast illusions and also look into others' dreams.

Alenia, understanding her assignment, nodded once. "I will."

She paused.

Then added, carefully, "But that won't solve everything."

Kael looked at her.

"The town," Alenia continued. "They're terrified. They don't know what happened—only that someone attacked, and something catastrophic answered."

Her gaze flicked briefly to the sky, clouds still black, making it impossible to see the stars and the moon.

"They need reassurance," she said. "Now. Before fear festers, they need to know that the attackers who had tried to take their peace away are gone."

What she meant was clear.

She wanted Kael to hide what had actually happened and tell them something else.

Selene nodded grimly. Darian did the same. Even Vaelen shifted uneasily.

Lyra glanced at Kael again.

At Evethra's hand, still holding his.

Kael exhaled slowly.

"…Which means lying," he said.

No one contradicted him.

"I won't lie," Kael continued, brow furrowing. "This was my failure. My carelessness. I won't run from that."

The air felt heavier.

Evethra tightened her grip on his hand, eyes lifting to his face, worried.

"If it weren't my fault, I would've lied to save others," Kael said quietly, "but since it was my fault, I have to face it. Because I know I would not make the same mistake again."

No one spoke.

Because they all understood.

Alenia stepped forward.

"Responsibility matters," she said gently. "But so does survival. Right now, this place doesn't need a man confessing his guilt."

She met his eyes evenly.

"It needs a dragon who never wavers. They need a wall that would always protect them and not one that could fall on them."

Kael closed his eyes.

For a long moment, he said nothing.

Then—

"…I can't lie, but telling the truth would do harm."

He opened his eyes again.

"So, I just won't speak," Kael said. "I'll sleep."

Lyra blinked. "You're just—?"

"Tired," he replied. "And if I open my mouth, I'll say something I shouldn't."

"It's alright." Alenia stepped forward, understanding that this turn of events was a major blow to Kael's confidence, as he always thought that everything was under control.

As he said, he needed rest right now.

Then she added, "But since someone needs to address the town, I'll do it."

She turned to Lyra. "Help me organize the guards."

She inclined her head immediately.

Evethra tugged gently on Kael's hand. "Come," she murmured.

He let her.

As they walked away together, Lyra's gaze followed them.

Her eyes lingered.

On their joined hands.

Her frown deepened—not in anger, not yet—but in something far more unsettled.

Behind them, the assassin sobbed quietly as Alenia called for her people to drag him away.

Above them, the sky remained scarred.

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