Chapter 50 The Masked Interruption

Kai wasn’t used to gratitude.

After the temple… after the girls had cooked, cleaned, kept watch, and handled every detail of life while he lay half-broken in bed—he didn’t know what to do with it. “Thank you” felt too small, too plain. And anything deeper caught in his throat like words from a language he’d once known but had long since forgotten.

So instead, he made an unspoken gesture.

An invitation.

The markets near the city’s heart—where the riverwalk curved like a silver ribbon—were always alive with motion. Food carts hissed and sizzled with skewered meats, jewel-colored candies, and pickled vegetables. The air smelled of grilled roots, fried breads, and wood smoke. Stalls overflowed with cloaks, satchels, hair ornaments, and charms. Lanterns bobbed on strings overhead, catching the light of a fading sun.

Kai even made the effort to look presentable—clean canvas shirt, brushed boots.

The girls noticed.

Skye stayed close at his side, her golden eyes flicking toward stalls but never lingering far from him. Revoli darted ahead, cheeks already sticky with sugar, clutching a skewer in one hand and dragging him toward shiny trinkets with the other. Fara walked with measured grace, tails swaying, but even she paused to touch a tailor’s embroidered cloak, listening to the slow pull of hand-stitching.

Kai stood in the middle of it all, hands in his pockets, letting them move around him.

He never said, You mean the world to me.

But he bought them things.

New sandals for Skye, carved with a moon-and-cat design she kept glancing at like she wasn’t sure she deserved them.
A silver-threaded bracelet for Revoli, sturdy enough to last, delicate enough to be hers alone.
A flame-orange scarf for Fara, lined with white-gold trim that shimmered when her tails brushed it.

No explanations. Just actions.

And as they sat later at a riverside bench, eating skewers while the sky turned watercolor over the water, Kai felt the words start to rise.

“I lo—”

The rest was cut short by chaos.

Boots pounding cobblestone. Metal clashing. Shouts that carried down the alleyways.

Four… no, five figures emerged from the shadows, half-masks covering their faces, armor gleaming under lantern light. Their weapons were already drawn, and their movements weren’t the clumsy swing of amateurs.

There was no demand. No warning. Just the rush of steel.

Skye’s sandals fell from her hands.
Fara stripped the scarf from her shoulders before fire could catch it.
Revoli ducked low, yelping as her new bracelet snapped away during a clash of blades.

Kai stepped forward.

Still recovering. Still carrying wounds both seen and unseen.

The first hit grazed his ribs. The second cracked against his collarbone. The third drove into his shoulder with enough force to stagger him.

The fourth came straight for his heart.

The girls moved in unison.

Fara slammed her staff down, blue light flaring into a shield that caught the blow mid-arc.
Skye rolled low, her daggers flashing as she knocked a spear off-course.
Revoli hurled a flash bomb, light bursting bright enough to blind everyone for a heartbeat.

Kai fought through the haze. He ducked under a spear thrust, drove his baton into an attacker’s chest, then spun to elbow another in the throat. Two went down. One more dropped after Skye slashed his leg.

One masked man turned to flee.

Kai caught him by the throat before he made two steps. His grip tightened until the man’s boots barely touched the ground.

“You ambushed us during a peaceful outing. Why?”

The man choked.

Kai eased his grip just enough.

“We were told to stall you,” the man rasped.

“Stall us from what?”

“From seeing what happened at the guild.”

Kai’s eyes narrowed. “Who sent you?”

The man just shook his head, trembling.

Kai dropped him. The man fled.

When he turned back, the girls were pale and breathing hard.

“They were targeting us?” Skye asked.

“No,” Kai said. “They were keeping us busy. Something’s happened.”

They ran.

By the time the guild came into view, the change was visible from the street. The seals on the doors were different. The guards’ armor bore a crest they didn’t recognize.

Inside, the air had shifted—like someone had taken the heart out of the place. The banners overhead were new.

At the front desk, Lena stood stiff, her usual warmth gone.

And behind her, in the guildmaster’s chair, lounged Gregory.

The same swagger. The same smug tilt of his head. Arms draped over the chair’s arms like he was posing for a painting.

“Welcome back,” he said, smiling like he’d already won. “Perfect timing. You get to watch how real heroes run things.”

He stood and held up a folded decree.

“By royal order, the guild is now under the leadership of the heroes who defeated the Demon Lord. Every mission, every approval, every rank… goes through us.”

Kai didn’t speak.

He didn’t have to.

Because something inside him had already begun to burn.