BLOOD & SIGILS

Chapter 25: Blood on His Hands

The night air was thick with tension. The dim glow of the fire inside the shelter barely illuminated the forest beyond, where shadows stretched between the trees like silent watchers.

Kael felt it first.

A flicker of movement at the edge of his vision. A shift in the air. The faintest pressure of mana—controlled, precise, and deadly.

He didn't hesitate.

"Rivain!" Kael hissed, already moving.

The attack came instantly.

A blade shimmered in the moonlight, cutting toward his throat. Kael ducked, his instincts sharpened by months of training. The assassin's sword clashed against the ground, sparks flying as steel scraped against rock.

Rivain had already drawn his weapon, meeting the second knight head-on. Their swords clashed in a violent exchange of blows, echoing through the forest.

The third attacker lunged toward the unconscious merchant—aiming to finish the job.

Kael's mana surged. His Arcane Sigil blazed to life, runes forming in his vision.

Crimson Bind.

Execution Rune.

He didn't think—he reacted.

Blood from his palm twisted into glowing sigils, wrapping around the first knight's limbs in an instant. The man struggled, his eyes widening in shock as the Crimson Bind locked him in place.

Kael raised his other hand.

The Execution Rune flared.

A burst of pure mana erupted forward, piercing straight through the assassin's chest. His body jerked, blood spraying onto the dirt as he collapsed—dead before he hit the ground.

Kael's breathing was ragged. His hands trembled. The scent of iron and burned flesh filled the air.

He had just killed someone.

But there was no time to think.

The second knight, distracted by Rivain, left an opening. Kael moved without hesitation—his blade slicing across the man's throat.

A gurgled cry. The assassin staggered, clutching his neck as blood poured between his fingers. He collapsed beside his fallen comrade, twitching for only a moment before going still.

Silence.

Only one remained.

The third knight—the weakest of the three—stumbled back, his sword trembling in his grip. His face was pale, sweat dripping from his brow as he stared at Kael.

"Who sent you?" Rivain growled, pressing his blade against the knight's throat.

The man swallowed hard, glancing at the corpses of his companions. His fear overwhelmed his pride.

"I-It was…" He hesitated, then exhaled shakily. "House Faelwyn."

Kael's eyes narrowed.

Faelwyn. The noble house of beast tamers and summoners. A family with deep influence—and now, one that wanted him dead.

His grip on his sword tightened.

Why?

And more importantly—what would he do next?