Chapter 67 The Lord of Chains

The streets of Gildenreach carried a tension Kai could almost taste. Merchants hawked their wares beneath striped awnings, mothers pulled children close, and here and there beastfolk in collars moved silently with baskets strapped to their backs. The whole town seemed to breathe under a rhythm of dominance and submission.

Kai kept his hood drawn low as he drifted between stalls, asking questions the way any weary traveler might. He pretended he was in the market for help, his words casual, his tone neutral. A woman to cook, perhaps. Someone to sweep, to fetch water, to manage tasks even a child could do. He let it sound harmless, banal.

The locals answered with guarded looks and lowered voices. The truth was always the same: if you want beastfolk, you must go to the slave trader.

But this wasn’t just a man peddling misery from the shadows. The slaver was also the district’s lord, empowered by regional decree. His name surfaced more than once, whispered as though invoking it risked punishment.

Lord Enzo Vallacorte.

Kai followed the trail eastward until the street widened into an avenue paved with unnaturally white stone. The air itself seemed cleaner here, though it was only an illusion. Beyond the grime and sweat of the outer district, a mansion rose like a monument to excess. Its walls gleamed ivory-bright, trimmed with gilded metal that caught the sinking sun and turned it to fire. Carved columns framed the gates, etched with patterns of snarling lions and coiling vines.

Kai’s lip curled. Every stone screamed this was bought with someone else’s pain.

Two guards in lacquered breastplates stood at the iron gate, spears crossed. Their faces were blank, their posture sharp.

Kai stopped before them, his voice steady. “I seek an audience with Lord Vallacorte.”

One guard raised a brow, but said nothing. The other jerked his chin toward a scrawny errand boy lingering near the wall. “Go.”

The boy bolted through the gate, bare feet slapping the stones. Kai waited, arms crossed, watching the guards’ eyes flicker with the boredom of men used to lording power over others.

Minutes passed. Then the boy came running back, panting hard. He stumbled, tripping on the last step, and fell sprawling at the guards’ feet.

One guard scowled and swung the butt of his spear down in reflex.

Kai’s hand snapped up, catching the shaft mid-arc with a sharp crack. The man’s eyes widened as Kai’s grip locked like iron.

“Easy,” Kai said, his voice low but edged. “Strike him and you’ll damage your master’s prized property. What excuse will you give then?”

The guard froze. His jaw clenched, but slowly he withdrew the spear, muttering something coarse under his breath.

The boy scrambled upright, eyes darting between them, then hurried to open the gate. He gave Kai a small, grateful nod before retreating.

Kai stepped inside.

The mansion’s foyer swallowed him in silence. Twin staircases spiraled upward, meeting a balcony of polished stone that glittered under the light of chandeliers. Purple-and-gold banners draped the high walls, bearing Vallacorte’s crest—a golden chain looped in a perfect circle.

Waiting at the base of the stairs were four maids. Beastfolk, all of them. Their uniforms were neat, skirts pressed, collars snug against their throats. Each had ears or tails twitching nervously beneath their clothing, but their faces were lifted into fixed, unnatural smiles.

Kai stopped. The weight of those expressions hit him harder than the gaudy opulence around him.

“You don’t need to force yourselves,” he said quietly. “Not for me.”

The smallest maid, a fox-eared girl no older than sixteen, blinked rapidly. But none of them spoke. Their eyes dropped lower.

And then a voice filled the hall.

“A guest with manners? How rare.”

Kai looked up.

Lord Enzo Vallacorte descended the staircase with theatrical grace, his every movement slow and calculated. He wore a robe of deep violet, frilled and embroidered with golden thread that shimmered in the light. His dark hair hung to his shoulders in a shag that gleamed with oil. Every finger bore a ring, each set with a gem so bright they could have ransomed a family for a year.

The man himself was tall but lanky, his arms too thin for his broad sleeves, his posture that of someone who had never lifted more than a goblet of wine. His smile, however, was rich—wide, practiced, indulgent.

“My dear visitor,” Enzo said, spreading his jeweled hands. “You honor my home. Please, let us talk like civilized men.”

Kai remained rooted, jaw tight.

“I’m looking for three beastfolk,” he said flatly. “They were taken today. I’d like to buy them back.”

Enzo’s brows rose in mock surprise. “Straight to business? Refreshing, truly. But surely you know, not everything is so simple.”

He strolled to a high-backed chair and sat with deliberate ceremony, folding one leg over the other. His rings flashed as he steepled his fingers.

“Allow me a story. Once, I was nothing. A man with empty pockets, walking these very streets. And what did I see? Beastfolk rotting in the gutter. Hungry, lost, filthy. No one cared for them.” His voice swelled with pride. “But I did. I brought them in. Fed them. Clothed them. Gave them honest work. Some, of course, had to be… persuaded that my roof was better than the alleys. But once they saw, ah, how they thrived.”

His smile stretched, self-satisfied. “Soon, others noticed. People came begging me to share my miracle. To give them loyal hands for their kitchens, their farms, their beds. I gave the beastfolk purpose, and the people of Gildenreach prosperity. The lords above rewarded me, granting me dominion over this district. Every stone, every coin—built with my vision.”

Kai’s fists ached to swing. His nails bit into his palms.

“And the ones taken today?” he asked, his voice controlled, though the heat in his chest threatened to break free.

Enzo tilted his head, his smile turning sly. “Ah. Them. You see the problem? If I simply handed them over, what message would that send? That Lord Vallacorte’s word is meaningless? No, no. That cannot be. But fret not! You may choose others.”

He clapped, and the four maids flinched in unison.

“Men, women, children—whatever your household requires. They are loyal beyond measure. They will cook, clean, fight. Kill, even, if you asked. Or…” His voice dipped, rich with filth. “If your desires are more… spirited, I do not judge. They obey. That is the gift I give the world.”

Kai’s breath burned in his throat. His hands curled, unclenched, curled again. The only thing that stopped him from crossing the hall and crushing the man’s jeweled throat was the four beastfolk still standing there, forced to watch with hollow smiles.

Enzo leaned forward, eyes glittering. “Still, I sense you want more. There is another way. The battle games in the city center. The crowd adores blood. Gladiators fight for coin and fame. The losers die, the winners walk away richer than kings. If you are strong enough, if you survive, you could buy any slave you desire. Perhaps even the ones you seek.”

He spread his arms, laughing softly. “So, my guest—do you have the strength to stake your life for theirs?”

Kai stared, saying nothing. His silence stretched long enough that the maids shifted nervously, their smiles trembling.

At last he inclined his head slightly. “I’ll find a way.”

Enzo clapped his jeweled hands together, delighted. “Splendid! I do love men with ambition. May fortune favor you in the arena.”

Kai turned and strode from the hall, every step measured. His blood thundered, but he kept it hidden beneath the mask of calm.

The four maids bowed as he passed. Only the smallest girl dared lift her eyes. For the briefest instant, she mouthed a single word.

Please.

Kai did not look back.

Outside, the gates of ivory slammed shut behind him.