VELKAR – THE SILENT ESCAPE

Kael and Lyria moved quickly, staying to the darkest alleys. Their bodies still ached from the brutal fight underground, but there was no time to rest.

The Bloodhounds wouldn’t stop.

And now, there was someone else in the game.

Kael glanced at Lyria. "You ever seen that guy before?"

She shook her head, wiping blood from her lip. "No. And I don’t like mysteries."

Kael exhaled. "Me neither."

Still, whoever that masked stranger was, they had just saved their lives.

And that meant one thing—

They had an agenda.

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ELSEWHERE – A BROKEN BATTLEFIELD

The tunnel was in ruins. Smoke and dust choked the air, scattered embers glowing in the wreckage.

The Bloodhounds stood amidst the rubble, bodies damaged but not beaten.

Their leader, the one in obsidian-black plating, flexed his fingers—metal joints sparking.

"The Phantom," he muttered.

His glowing red eyes flickered as he scanned the destruction.

The masked warrior had been unexpected.

And annoying.

The second Bloodhound stepped forward, brushing debris off his armor. "Orders?"

A pause.

Then the leader smirked beneath his helmet. "We let him think he won."

He turned toward the ruins of the passage. "Velkar’s a small city. We’ll find them again soon enough."

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

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VELKAR – A HIDDEN SANCTUARY

Kael and Lyria reached their safehouse, a decrepit old workshop near the industrial sector.

Inside, the air smelled of oil and gunpowder.

Kael collapsed into a chair, groaning. "I think I broke something."

Lyria tossed him a rag. "Patch yourself up. We need to figure out what’s next."

Kael sighed, wiping the blood from his face. "What’s next is getting the hell out of Velkar before those freaks find us again."

Lyria sat across from him. "And go where?"

Kael didn’t answer.

Because he didn’t know.

For the first time in a long while, he didn’t have a plan.

Then—

A knock at the door.

Kael and Lyria froze.

Their hands went to their weapons.

Another knock.

Three slow taps.

Kael exchanged a glance with Lyria, then moved cautiously to the door.

Hand on his revolver, he opened it slightly.

And there he was.

The masked warrior.

The one who had saved them.

Kael narrowed his eyes. "You’ve got nerve showing up here."

The stranger stepped inside, closing the door behind him. "And you have no choice but to listen."

Lyria crossed her arms. "Who the hell are you?"

The masked warrior pulled back his hood slightly, just enough to reveal silver hair and a jagged scar running across his jaw.

"Call me Phantom," he said.

Kael snorted. "Of course it’s something dramatic."

Phantom ignored him. "You two are in over your heads. The Bloodhounds won’t stop. You need an advantage."

Lyria frowned. "And let me guess—you have one?"

Phantom’s gaze darkened. "Not yet. But I know where to find it."

Kael leaned forward. "Start talking."

Phantom placed a small metal chip on the table.

It gleamed under the dim light, a strange symbol engraved into its surface.

Kael recognized it immediately.

It was Draymore’s insignia.

Kael’s grip on the table tightened. "Where did you get that?"

Phantom smirked. "Let’s just say I know a few of his secrets. And I know where he keeps his real power."

Lyria narrowed her eyes. "Which means?"

Phantom’s voice was calm.

"We hit Draymore first."

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THE GAMBLE

Kael stared at the metal chip, mind racing.

Draymore was the reason the Bloodhounds were after them. He was the real power behind the Black Talons.

And now this Phantom wanted to take the fight to him?

It was insane.

Reckless.

Kael grinned. "I like it."

Lyria groaned. "I hate it."

Phantom crossed his arms. "It’s the only chance you have."*

Kael tapped the table. "Alright, Phantom. You say you know where Draymore’s power is. Where is it?"

Phantom leaned forward. "Not where. Who."

Lyria frowned. "You’re saying it’s a person?"

Phantom nodded. "Draymore has a key asset. Someone he keeps hidden. If we take them, we cripple him."*

Kael tilted his head. "Who is it?"

Phantom’s silver eyes gleamed.

"His daughter."*

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END OF CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO.