Chapter Two -Mole in the System

Chapter Two -Mole in the System

The night was thick with darkness, and the quiet hum of the kingdom’s streets was broken only by the creaking of a cart as it trundled down the path toward the gates. Inside, two figures lay low, hidden beneath a pile of hay, their faces covered to avoid recognition.

The cart came to a halt at the kingdom's entrance. The driver hopped down and glanced around, disappearing into the shadows. The two figures exchanged a silent glance before slipping out of the cart, moving with the stealth of shadows. Every footstep was carefully placed, every movement calculated.

As they approached the towering gates of the Defense Academy, the spy’s eyes landed on the banner hanging above. The words, written boldly, seemed to mock him as they swayed in the wind: “Entrance exam for new joining starts in 10 days.”

A quiet chuckle escaped the spy. He couldn't help it—this was just too perfect.

“Huh. Perfect timing,” he muttered under his breath, a small smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

He turned on his heel, melting back into the night, the shadows once again swallowing him whole.

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Kael’s muscles burned, his body aching with exhaustion as he slammed his fist into the massive tree once more. The force of the blow sent a jolt through his wrist, but he didn’t stop. Sweat trickled down his face, stinging his eyes, but he kept hitting the tree with everything he had. The bark cracked under the pressure of his strikes, but his hands remained empty, devoid of power.

He stopped for a moment, standing still in front of the tree, panting heavily. His knuckles were raw, skin cracked and bleeding, but there was no magic coursing through him. No element answered his call.

Kael glanced down at his hands. The frustration inside him swelled as he clenched his fists tightly, feeling the muscles in his forearms tremble. His breath came in short, labored bursts.

“Now there’s no use in improving what I have…” he thought bitterly. “I’ve reached my limit. Everyone else has elemental powers, but I’m stuck with nothing. I can’t keep up with them like this.”

He sighed deeply, dropping his hands to his sides. His gaze drifted to the ground, his eyes shadowed with doubt.

“I’ll have to learn something new… I need to improve in a way they can’t predict.”

The thought settled within him, firm and resolute. If he was going to have a chance, he would have to change his approach. His training so far had only gotten him so far, and now, the real challenge awaited.

________________________________________

In the dark, narrow alley, the only sound was the soft rustling of the wind. A lone figure sat against the wall, waiting. His posture was stiff, his cloak drawn tightly around his body as if to ward off the night’s chill. His eyes, sharp and calculating, were fixed on the empty path ahead of him.

Footsteps echoed in the distance, slow but deliberate. Two figures emerged from the shadows, their footsteps heavy, almost in sync with one another. The first figure, a man cloaked in shadow, glanced over at the waiting figure, his lips curling into a faint smile.

“Well, well. After a long time, huh… Harper?” The spy’s voice was low but carried a hint of amusement.

Harper’s head tilted slightly, his eyes narrowing as he took in the spy’s appearance. He gave a brief nod, recognizing the man, but his tone was all business.

“What is it this time?” Harper asked, his voice steady, though there was a hint of curiosity beneath the calm.

The spy handed Harper a rolled-up sheet of parchment, the faint rustle of paper breaking the stillness. Harper took the scroll, unfurling it with practiced ease. His eyes scanned the contents, his expression unreadable.

“Okay. I’ll make the preparations,” Harper murmured after a moment, his gaze lifting to meet the spy’s. “It was an honor meeting you, Ronan?”

The spy—Ronan—nodded once, his face hidden in the shadows of his hood. Without another word, the two men turned and stepped out of the alley, the moonlight casting long shadows behind them.

As they disappeared into the night, the air seemed to crackle with tension. Harper’s mind was already turning over the details of the plan. The pieces were falling into place, and the game was just beginning.

Kael stood at the edge of the old arena, his gaze fixed on the open space inside the stone walls. The air outside the kingdom’s main gates felt different—dustier, rougher. The distant hum of the crowd echoed through the cold night, the sound of a world Kael had never truly belonged to. This was where the fighters came to prove themselves, to fight for pride or coin.

He moved toward the instructor, his boots crunching on the gravel.

"I want to fight," Kael said, his voice firm despite the nerves that twisted in his gut.

The instructor looked him over briefly, raising an eyebrow at the young man standing before him. Then he shouted, calling for the attention of the crowd.

"Okay, spectators! We’ve got a new guy here, ready to fight!"

Kael’s heart raced as the crowd cheered, and a few of the bettors began to eye him curiously, murmuring about the newcomer. The sound of coins clinking filled the air.

The instructor gestured for Kael to step into the ring. "The one who’ll be fighting this kid will be... none other than Isla!"

The crowd gasped in excitement. Kael felt a chill run down his spine as Isla stepped forward, her icy presence sending a wave of cold over the ring. She was a legend in these parts—known as the Frost Queen, a fighter who controlled the very cold around her. Her blue eyes locked onto Kael, and the air around her shimmered with frost.

"You’re too young to be here, kid," Isla said, her voice as cold as the ice that swirled around her. "Don’t worry, this’ll be over before you know it."

The sounds of the crowd faded into the background as Kael squared off with Isla. The betters continued cheering, some still shouting, others raising their mugs high, completely unaware of the battle about to unfold in the ring.

The instructor raised his hand, signaling the start of the match.

"If one of you stays down for more than a minute after a hit, I’ll declare the other the winner!" he called.

The bell rang.

Without hesitation, Kael rushed forward, launching himself at Isla with a flurry of jabs. His fists cut through the air, but Isla dodged effortlessly, moving like liquid ice. His spinning kick was blocked with a hardened arm, ice crackling on her skin.

Kael was quick to react, his instincts screaming at him to keep moving. He aimed a low sweep at her legs, but Isla was already airborne, flipping over him with the grace of someone born in the cold. She landed behind him, and before Kael could reset, she struck.

A brutal palm strike to his chest sent him stumbling back, the cold seeping into his skin. The sting was immediate, like being cut by shards of glass. Kael clenched his teeth, trying to ignore the growing numbness in his chest, and countered with a right hook. His fist met her face with a satisfying thud. Isla staggered back slightly, wiping a thin line of blood from her lip.

“Not bad,” Isla murmured, her breath fogging in the chilled air.

Kael smirked, feeling the rush of adrenaline as he pressed forward. He swung another punch, more powerful than the last, but Isla was faster. She caught his wrist mid-air, ice creeping up his arm the moment her skin made contact. His fingers went numb, but he tried to pull away, only for Isla to twist his arm and slam him into the cold ground.

The crowd roared, a collective gasp rising from the stands.

Kael groaned, struggling to push himself up. His vision blurred from the force of the fall, but he knew he couldn’t give up. Not now. Not when he was so close to proving something.

He staggered to his feet, just in time to see Isla raise her hand. The temperature plummeted, the air around her turning frigid. The steel bars of the cage behind him turned white with frost.

Isla clenched her fist.

A powerful wave of ice surged forward, crashing into Kael with unrelenting force. He braced himself, crossing his arms over his chest, but it was no use. The freezing wave slammed into him, knocking him off his feet. His body slid back, crashing into the ice-coated cage wall. His limbs were sluggish, his breath shallow as the cold took hold.

Isla didn’t give him a chance to recover. She was already there, her fist smashing into his gut with a sharp crack. Kael gasped for air, his vision spinning as she struck again, this time hitting his jaw with enough force to send his head snapping to the side.

Before he could fall, Isla spun, her knee slamming into his stomach and lifting him off the ground. His body crashed to the floor like a ragdoll.

The crowd erupted in cheers, sensing that the match was over. But Kael didn’t stop. He didn’t lie still. His fingers dug into the icy ground, his body protesting with every movement. His chest burned, but he refused to close his eyes.

“I can’t… I won’t… fall here.”

Slowly, painfully, Kael pushed himself up. His breath was labored, his muscles trembling with exhaustion, but his eyes—his eyes remained fierce, unyielding.

Isla watched him from across the ring, her icy gaze never wavering. "You’re still standing?" she asked, her voice tinged with something akin to amusement. She tilted her head, as if studying him.

“Yeah…” Kael spat blood, his voice hoarse but filled with defiance. “I don’t go down that easy.”

The crowd roared, their excitement building. They had been ready for the end, but Kael wasn’t done yet.

Isla exhaled, shaking her head slightly. She raised her hand, a thick mist forming around her palm.

"Then stay down."

She swung her arm, and a final, freezing strike shot forward. It slammed into Kael’s chest with the force of a hurricane.

The world spun as Kael was thrown onto his back, the cold engulfing him. His body went limp, his muscles screaming for rest.

The bell rang.

The match was over. Isla had won.

But as the announcer called her name, Kael remained still for a moment, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. His eyes, though tired and clouded with pain, were wide open, still burning with defiance.

The audience murmured in disbelief.

“He lost, but he hasn’t closed his eyes yet…”

Isla glanced at him, a small smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "Tough boy," she muttered under her breath before turning and walking away, the frost around her receding as she left the ring.

Kael didn’t win the fight. But in that moment, he earned something more—respect. And that was something he could work with.

The royal palace stood in grandeur, its stone walls stretching up to meet the sky, an imposing symbol of power. Inside, a man from the royal family stood by the tall window, gazing out at the sprawling kingdom below. The view was beautiful, but his thoughts were clouded. His fingers drummed lightly on the windowsill as he turned his head to speak to his assistant, who stood quietly in the corner.

"Did you hear about Fletcher’s son applying for the entrance exam for the defense academy?" the royal man asked, his voice carrying an edge of frustration.

The assistant nodded, a hint of surprise on his face. "Yes, sir. Who would have thought that even after everything that happened with his father, he would still pursue this…?"

The royal man’s hand shot out, slamming onto the table in front of him, causing the assistant to flinch slightly.

"Ehhh…" the royal man growled under his breath, eyes narrowing. "You know about it, and you still haven’t done anything about it? Do something about him."

The assistant stammered, caught off guard by the sudden intensity. "Sorry, sir... wh-what do you want me to do?"

The royal man’s eyes hardened, his jaw clenching as he spoke, his voice low and dangerous. "Put him against the strongest candidate... He shouldn’t even think about the academy after this."

The assistant blinked, a flicker of understanding dawning on his face. "Yes, sir, as you wish."

As the assistant quickly left to carry out his orders, the royal man’s gaze lingered on the horizon, his thoughts darkening with the weight of his plans.

________________________________________

Kael sat in a dimly lit room, the faint sound of distant chatter drifting in from outside the palace walls. His fingers trembled slightly as he patched up the bruises and cuts from his earlier battle, the pain still fresh in his muscles. His breath came in shallow gasps, but he refused to show weakness. He had to keep going.

As he reached for a cloth to wipe the blood from his knuckles, a figure suddenly appeared in the doorway. Kael looked up, startled, meeting the eyes of an older man who stood there, his gaze steady but not unkind.

"You should know that you're never going to win with just physical abilities," the man said, his voice rough, as though it had seen too many battles to be gentle.

Kael paused, his brow furrowing in frustration. He didn’t need to hear this right now. "This is all I can do," he muttered, looking down at his injured hands. "And my father is dead, so no one’s there to teach me either."

The older man’s expression softened for a moment, a flicker of sympathy in his eyes. He stepped closer, his gaze lingering on Kael’s wounded body.

"Oh, I’m sorry, child," the man said, voice dipping into something almost comforting. "But... what happened to your father?"

Kael’s chest tightened, the old wound reopening. His voice was bitter, the words tasting like ashes in his mouth. "The kingdom called him a traitor and sentenced him to death."

The older man’s eyes widened in shock. He stood still for a moment, absorbing Kael’s words before stepping forward and offering his hand.

"I’m Ryzen," he said. "I’ve been an ex-soldier of the defense force. Maybe I can help you."

Kael eyed him suspiciously, still processing the man's sudden appearance and offer of help. "But... why would you want to help me now?" he asked, a mixture of curiosity and wariness in his voice.

Ryzen let out a soft chuckle, his lips curving into a knowing smile. "See, kid, I think we have something in common."

The words hung in the air for a moment, and before Kael could respond, Ryzen turned and began walking toward the door.

"Well, I’ll see you on the hills tomorrow morning, kid," Ryzen called over his shoulder, his tone light but firm.

Kael stood still, watching him leave, confusion and uncertainty swirling in his chest. What did Ryzen mean by that? What was he getting at?

He glanced down at his bruised hands, the weight of the past pressing down on him. Tomorrow morning on the hills. The words echoed in his mind as he stared at the door, wondering what this new, strange turn in his life would bring.

Kael was already running down the stairs, his feet pounding against the stone floor. His heart raced in his chest as he hurriedly shoved his boots on, his mind focused only on one thing—getting to the hills. The sound of his mother calling out from the kitchen halted him for a moment.

"Where are you rushing this early, Kael?" she shouted in confusion from the other room.

"I have only a few days left until my entrance test, I gotta train, Mom…" Kael called back, barely pausing to catch his breath.

His mother, with a tired sigh, appeared at the top of the stairs. "OK, but at least take something to eat," she said, annoyance creeping into her voice as she noticed the urgency in his movements.

Kael shook his head quickly, already halfway out the door. "Sorry, Mom, but I’m already too late!" he called over his shoulder, slamming the door behind him.

________________________________________

Kael’s breath came in ragged gasps as he reached the foot of the hills, his legs burning from the sprint. He paused for a moment, standing on shaky feet, before spotting Ryzen waiting for him in the clearing. Ryzen’s posture was relaxed, but his eyes were sharp.

"Well, you’re here. Looks like you’re very willing to learn something new," Ryzen said with a grin, his voice both approving and amused.

Kael doubled over, panting heavily. "Trust me, I won’t disappoint you," he replied between breaths.

Ryzen tossed a blindfold at him without warning. "Put it on. I will attack you, you will dodge."

Kael caught the blindfold, frowning at it in confusion. "How am I supposed to dodge if I can’t see?" he asked, incredulous.

Ryzen smirked, his eyes glinting with mischief. "That’s the point. Your eyes make you weak. They tell you what’s coming, but by the time they do, it’s already too late."

Kael hesitated, but then, with a deep breath, tied the blindfold over his eyes. He stood still, his body tense and his mind racing. He couldn’t afford to mess this up.

"Stand still. Breathe," Ryzen ordered, his voice firm yet calm.

Without warning, a small rock hurtled toward Kael’s shoulder, smacking into him with a sharp thud. Kael flinched, his body stiffening at the sudden impact.

"Tch—! Damn it!" Kael cursed under his breath, rubbing the sore spot.

Ryzen’s voice was unimpressed. "Too slow. Again."

Another rock came, followed by another. Kael tried to react, but each time, he was too late. The pain from the hits was starting to add up, and Kael’s frustration began to rise.

"How do you expect me to avoid what I can’t see?!" Kael yelled, his voice filled with exasperation.

Ryzen’s response was calm, almost philosophical. "By listening. Feeling. Every attack makes a sound. Every movement shifts the air. Your body knows before your mind does. Trust it."

Kael took a deep breath, trying to clear his mind. He focused on the air, the subtle sounds of movement, the quiet shifts in the atmosphere around him. The next rock flew at him, and this time, at the last second, Kael tilted his head slightly to the side. It grazed his cheek, barely missing him.

"I felt that…" Kael whispered to himself, a small sense of triumph filling him.

Ryzen grinned, his eyes lighting up with approval. "Good. Now let’s make it harder."

________________________________________

Ryzen increased the pace, launching rocks, branches, and pebbles from every direction. Kael stumbled, his body getting hit more than once, but slowly, his reflexes began to sharpen. His body moved before his mind could catch up, and he started dodging with more accuracy.

"I’m getting it," Kael grinned, even as bruises and cuts began to form on his skin.

"Not bad," Ryzen commented, watching with crossed arms. "Now, let’s see if you can do it while moving."

The training ground had become more challenging. Uneven terrain—fallen logs, jagged rocks, and patches of sand—created an unstable environment, perfect for teaching Kael to be unpredictable.

"Elemental warriors expect their targets to move in straight lines. Predictable. Slow. You want to survive? Then vanish between movements," Ryzen instructed, his tone sharp and commanding.

Kael’s confusion was evident. "Vanish?"

Ryzen’s smirk deepened. "Move so erratically they don’t know where to strike. Now, run."

Kael took off, his feet pounding against the earth, but within moments, he tripped over a loose stone and crashed to the ground.

"What the hell was that?" Kael groaned, pain shooting through his body.

Ryzen’s voice rang out, unwavering. "Your body isn’t balanced. A true warrior adapts. You step on loose ground? Shift your weight. You slip? Let the fall become your next movement. Now, again."

Kael gritted his teeth and got back up, determination flaring inside him. This time, he focused on his balance. He took another step, his body shifting with more grace, and tried again. And again. Slowly, his movements became smoother, more fluid, as he began to master the art of adapting to his environment.

Ryzen watched, his arms crossed, a proud glint in his eyes. "Not bad. Now, let’s see if you can fake an enemy out."

Ryzen picked up a wooden staff and swung it toward Kael’s leg. Kael leapt left, but Ryzen grinned as the strike landed on his leg.

"Dead. You’re predictable. Try again."

Kael readied himself again, determined to outwit the older man. As Ryzen swung the staff once more, Kael faked left but then quickly pivoted in mid-air, landing on the right instead.

Ryzen laughed. "Hah. That’s better. Now, you need to get some rest."

________________________________________

The sun had begun to set as Kael made his way back home, his body aching but his spirit soaring. He pushed open the door, only to be greeted by his mother’s worried gaze. She stood in front of him, her eyes widening as she took in his bloodied and bruised state.

"What happened? You’re covered in blood!" she asked, her voice laced with concern.

Kael smiled, brushing off her worry. "Nothing, Mom. It’s just part of the training," he reassured her, his tone light.

His mother, relieved to see him smiling despite his injuries, softened. "I see you smiling… Did something go right?"

Kael nodded, though his smile was tempered by exhaustion. "Nothing, Mom…" He said the words quietly, almost to himself.

As he walked toward his room, he spoke softly under his breath, a sense of quiet pride in his voice. "Tomorrow’s another day… and I’m ready."

Kael to himself “I’m improving” closing his fists