Outside, rain lashed the streets, but Kael paid it no mind. His plan had worked—he'd secured access to the inner sanctum. Now, Phase Two. First, he needed to tend to his injuries; his ribs were likely fractured.
'I'll remember this," he vowed silently.
He trudged through the filth-smeared alleys until a decrepit building loomed before him. Pausing, he scanned the shadows for pursuers. Rumors clung to this place like cobwebs—whispers of a Grade 2 Corrupted lurking within. Whispers he'd meticulously planted.
Inside, he climbed to an upper room, its door groaning on rusted hinges. The space was unremarkable, choked with dust and shattered furniture, save for one anomaly: a pristine portrait of a family of three. A wife cradling a child, a father standing sentinel beside them. Untouched by decay.
Kael approached, fingers brushing the red crystal embedded in the portrait's base. The frame pulsed with light, the image dissolving to reveal a hidden corridor. He stepped through, and the portrait resealed behind him.
This had once been the family's home, abandoned since the Breach years prior. The portrait was their escape route—activated by the crystal. A second should have been inside to release them, but they'd fled in panic, leaving it behind. Kael had stumbled upon their remains, trapped in their own sanctuary.
The corridor emptied into a spotless chamber—Kael's doing. His mother had drilled cleanliness into him. He moved to a cupboard, retrieving a vial of watery red liquid: a diluted healing potion. He downed it, grimacing as his bones knit together with a dull ache.
Shrugging off his sodden cloak, he slumped into a chair. Before him lay documents, sketches of strange artifacts, and faces he didn't recognize. Most crucially, the Baron's mansion blueprint and the inner sanctum schematics—maps that had cost him dearly. Worth every coin.
The plan unfolded in his mind with cold precision - infiltrate the mansion using Feng-Yuan's own connections, find the treasury marked by that bold X on the map, and betray the crime lord's expectations completely. He wouldn't take the crystal Feng-Yuan coveted so desperately. No, he'd steal something far more valuable: opportunity. The tools, the secrets, the leverage that could transform him from a branded slave into a true threat.
His escape route was already plotted - across the sanctum to a waiting airship bound for the border cities, where Feng-Yuan's reach grew thin. The slave crest burned faintly against his wrist, its low-grade magic unable to track him beyond a mile's radius. And that missing blood contract? A glorious oversight he'd exploit to its fullest. This wasn't just a heist; it was the first move in a longer game. Let Feng-Yuan wait for his precious crystal while Kael disappeared into the night. He'd return - stronger, deadlier - and when he did, that slave crest wouldn't be the only thing he'd break.
"Soon, I'll be free," and for the first time in a long time, he smiled.