Three hours later, Shaflis, who was given the code name “Shadowblade” by Revol, came back to him, and both men kept moving.

Shaflis first gave his initial report about Gareth, and then Revol kept on talking to him, trying to understand him more and how to use his abilities.

“Shadowblade, how likely is it that Gareth will notice you if you shadow him closely?”

“As long as no mage of level four or higher is present, and the area is not reinforced with detection or surveillance spells of a similar level, I will remain undetected. My bloodline ability ensures that I can blend seamlessly into any shadow, effectively erasing my presence.”

Revol tilted his head, considering this.

“But what if you need to act—if you need to cast a spell or perform an assassination? Will you be exposed?”

Shadowblade paused, then nodded.

“Yes. Using spells or engaging in direct action compromises my concealment. The magical energy would disrupt my blending, even if only briefly. Furthermore, I am not suited for direct combat. I lack the combat prowess of a typical battle mage and would lose to a skilled mid-level three mage who specializes in fighting.”

Revol rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

This was both reassuring and limiting.

“Good to know,” he said.

“For now, I don’t want Gareth harmed—not unless it’s absolutely unavoidable. Heidrick values him too much, and frankly, so do I. If Gareth is with us, the common guards will always support us.”

“As they like him very much as their captain.”

Shadowblade inclined its head.

“Understood. I will proceed as instructed.”

Revol resumed walking, his mind racing as he formulated a plan.

As they passed through an empty intersection, Revol slowed his pace, speaking over his shoulder.

“Just try to be silent as you know it.”

“There is nothing more I can tell you.”

“You can go.”

Revol said and nodded.

Shadowblade was silent for a moment before responding.

“I will ensure that my actions remain subtle and non-intrusive.”

Revol stopped in his tracks again, turning to face Shadowblade directly. “One more thing. If things escalate—if Gareth somehow becomes aware of you—what’s your fallback? How do you avoid capture?”

“I can retreat into the ship’s infrastructure,” Shadowblade replied.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“The design of Blue Hope provides numerous opportunities for concealment, including corridors, ventilation, and magicl stone units, and magic conduits. I can use these to evade pursuit if necessary.”

Revol nodded, satisfied with the answer.

“Good. Then we move forward.”

-

Gran and Machivel walked side by side.

Machivel was quiet, his eyes fixed on the path before them but his mind clearly elsewhere.

His brow furrowed slightly, betraying the depth of his thoughts. Gran, who had been observing his companion’s silence for some time, finally broke it.

“What’s on your mind?” Gran asked, his tone calm yet probing. “You’ve been unusually quiet since we left the meeting.”

Machivel glanced at him briefly.

“I’ve been thinking about Ares.”

Gran raised an eyebrow but said nothing, waiting for him to continue.

“Why only him that was detained, that I am not sure.” Machivel muttered after a moment.

Graham tilted his head, intrigued.

“What do you mean, ‘only him’? He was caught dealing with those lower-level organizations. That’s the official story, isn’t it?”

Machivel stopped walking for a moment, forcing Gran to pause as well.

He turned to face him fully, his gaze sharp.

“Think about it, Gran. Ares wasn’t the only one down there. Warrent and Sardias were also interacting with those small- and mid-level groups. By the reasoning given, all three of them could have been detained for questioning. Yet, they singled out Ares.”

Gran frowned.

“Maybe they just wanted one of them for investigation,” he offered after a moment, though his tone lacked conviction.

Machivel shook his head.

“No, Gran. This isn’t about investigating the actions of Ares. If it were, they’d have rounded up Warrent and Sardias as well. The fact that they didn’t means this isn’t about what Ares did.”

Gran’s frown deepened, his confusion evident. “Then what is it about?”

Machivel sighed, his voice dropping even lower as they resumed walking.

“It’s not about what Ares did—it’s about who he is. They’re not interested in his actions; they’re interested in him.”

Gran glanced sideways at Machivel,

“What are you getting at?”

Machivel slowed his pace, his gaze distant as he spoke.

“They’re investigating our family, our house. They’re trying to figure out what we are, what we’re capable of, and most importantly, what we want. Ares is the focal point because he represents the heart of what they don’t understand.”

Graham blinked, his mind racing to keep up.

“You think this is bigger than just Ares?”

“Exactly,” Machivel said, nodding.

“Think about it. Ares is... unique. He’s powerful, calculating, and completely loyal to Sylas. But more than that, there’s something about him that sets him apart from the rest of us, something they’ve noticed. They’re using this as an excuse to probe deeper, to uncover secrets we’d rather keep hidden.”

Gran’s expression darkened as the pieces began falling into place.

“They’re trying to understand us. To figure out how we operate, what makes us strong.”

Machivel nodded again, his voice grave.

“And if they succeed, they will think they know how to take care of us.”

The two men fell silent for a moment, the weight of their realization hanging heavily in the air. The hum of the ship seemed louder now, the distant voices of crew members faint but persistent.

“So what do we do?”

“We watch,” Machivel replied.

“We prepare. And most importantly, we protect Ares. If they’re focused on him, it’s because they think he’s the key to understanding us. We can’t let them have that advantage.”

Gran nodded slowly, his mind already working through the implications of their conversation.

“Do you think Lord Sylas knows?”

Machivel gave a small, bitter laugh.

“Lord Sylas knows everything. But whether he’s chosen to act on it yet is another matter.”

Gran fell silent again, his thoughts troubled. The idea of someone probing into their family, dissecting their every move, was unsettling.