Chapter 91 – The Ambush

The city gates loomed ahead, iron teeth against a bleeding sky. To pass through them was suicide—yet Kael and Aria had no choice. Supplies ran thin. Shadows alone could not feed them.

Every step toward the walls carried weight. Kael felt eyes. The air was thick with it—paranoia, suspicion, fear that wasn’t his own but pressed into him by belief itself.

Children whispered his name like a curse. Merchants closed shutters when he passed. Guards lingered too long, their hands brushing hilts, waiting for an excuse.

Exiled Flame.

The title spread like poison. And with it, hunters multiplied.

Aria touched his arm. “Keep your head down. If they see the shadows—”

Her words died. Ahead, in the crowd, a man turned. His eyes gleamed unnaturally, his smile too sharp.

Then Kael felt it—intent like a blade pressed to his throat.

They entered the gate’s shadow. A cart broke an axle. The crowd shifted. And in that subtle chaos, knives appeared—gleaming in lantern light, curving toward his back.

Kael’s shadows surged, instinctive. One knife clattered away, another shattered mid-strike. Screams erupted as the crowd scattered.

“Bounty hunters,” Aria spat, staff flashing into her hands.

More emerged from the alleys, masked and armored. Not soldiers. Killers bought in whispers and gold.

“You’ve become quite the price,” one sneered, twirling a chain of silver etched with wards. “Enough to retire on.”

Kael’s gaze sharpened. He saw it then—not just men, but belief hardening into enemies. They didn’t need prophecy. The world itself wanted him hunted.

“Then retire in the dark,” Kael growled, shadows rising like wings.

The street erupted into chaos.