CHAPTER 252: _A THREAT VEILED IN ARROGANCE

Kyren’s POV

*****

"Greetings, lord Kyren," Onika muttered, although her voice didn’t carry any warmth. "I see you’re back from—"

"You’re calling me with an expression that seems like you licked acid." Kyren cut her off. He and Farrell walked away from the excavation zone. "And yes, I’m back. Why? Are you keeping tabs on me now?"

The Duke’s brows furrowed. "The red sand and ashen clouds are an obvious giveaway. Also... Farrell’s there. Which brings me to why I called."

He waited patiently, already smelling the bad news a mile away.

And of course, it came soon enough.

"With the upheaval in Lunaria after the Alpha king’s death and the revelation of Beta Axel actually having dealings with the Dark Hand, we have reasons to believe the palace is compromised."

"What palace?"

"Yours, Lord Kyren," Onika remarked with a stiff voice. "He visited there alongside the Alpha Prince for peace talks. Or have you forgotten?"

Kyren ignored the sarcasm, his gaze trailing to the mountain he and Farrell were now walking to. The black mountain stood tall and ominous as ever, his palace etched into it like a sentinel watching over the city of Noctreth.

He could still feel the energy of the invisible protection bubble surrounding it—intact, like it’s been for decades.

"Reasons to believe, you say..." Kyren sniggered, tilting his head at the floating screen. "Your reasons are mistaken. My palace can’t get compromised in any way."

Onika was silent for a moment, her expression almost unreadable.

Until—

"Can’t? I bet the people of Lunaria said the same thing about their palace."

Kyren froze mid-step, his expression darkening into something dangerous. Onika visibly shrivelled even though she was on the screen, her eyes shaking with regret.

Meanwhile, Farrell still followed beside him, obedient and patient as always.

"Who told you about the Lunaria’s palace’s current situation?" He questioned, his voice demanding.

Onika’s throat tightened. "It... It was an anonymous tip. Someone sent a message to all seven dukes, including me. We thought we should contact you... But luckily you’re here and—"

"Anonymous my pale ass!" Kyren sneered, his fangs bared. "It’s him. That bastard’s manipulation knows no end."

Garrick.

His instincts instantly told him he was the one behind this. Who else could have information on the Lunarian palace wards being compromised? Other than the man who rewrote them himself?

"W–Who?" Onika stuttered. "Axel? Is there an enemy we should know about? I—"

"Send me the message." Kyren interrupted. "And tell all the Dukes to work on tracing the source of the message if you haven’t already."

"We... We tried but—"

"Well, try again." He hung up.

Farrell was silent beside him, his brow knit in confusion as they ascended the slope toward the mountain fortress. "My lord... forgive my ignorance, but what did you mean by ’that bastard’?"

Kyren’s jaw flexed, his eyes glowing faintly red under the hazy crimson sky. "I meant Beta Axel," he said flatly. "Or rather, the thing wearing his skin."

Farrell blinked. "Sir?"

Kyren stopped walking, turning sharply to face him. "His real name is Garrick. My father."

The commander’s eyes went wide. "THE Garrick Ironclaw? The soldier expelled to the Dark Lands centuries ago by Lunaria for—"

"The one and only," Kyren muttered. "He’s the true leader of the Dark Hand. The same monster who now thinks puppeteering the Lunarian empire’s royal court is funny."

Farrell exhaled shakily, struggling to process it. "So that means... everything that happened in Lunaria—"

"—was orchestrated by him," Kyren finished coldly. "He’s taunting me, Farrell. Mocking me."

A humourless smile ghosted across his lips. "But I’ll show him why that’s a mistake."

He raised a hand and twisted his wrist. A crimson fissure tore open in the air before them, energy crackling around its edges. "We’re going to the palace," he said simply.

Farrell swallowed hard and followed him through.

The moment they stepped out, the familiar hum of Dark Land magi-tech filled the halls. Holographic lanterns glowed with steady azure light, reflecting off the dark marble. Guards saluted but Kyren barely acknowledged them, his cloak trailing behind like smoke.

Then, his wrist console vibrated.

He flicked his fingers and a holographic message appeared. The sender: Unknown.

He read it silently—

"Just like the Lunarian palace crumbles... The Rogue King’s stronghold will follow."

Kyren’s pupils narrowed. The words pulsed faintly before disintegrating into static.

"Show yourself, old man," he hissed under his breath. "Keep hiding, and I’ll burn every corner of this world until you crawl out."

Farrell stood rigid beside him. "My lord, that’s—"

"—a threat," Kyren said, cutting him off. "But one laced with arrogance. He wants me to react. So I will—just not the way he expects."

They entered the magi-tech laboratory—a vast chamber lined with floating holograms, energy coils, and crystalline data cores.

At the centre stood Dr Veyra, a witch and one of Arcadia’s top encryption analysts now under Kyren’s payroll.

She looked up from her terminal, startled. "Lord Kyren. I wasn’t expecting—"

"Track this," he ordered, flicking his wrist so the message appeared on the projection before her. "I want the source. I don’t care how many systems you have to slice through."

Veyra nodded quickly, her fingers flying across the holographic interface. "Understood."

While she worked, Farrell opened a private comm line. "Ishtar, are you there?"

Her voice crackled through. "I am. What’s going on?"

"Lord Kyren received a coded threat, forwarded from Duke Onika. We’re running the trace now."

"Copy that," Ishtar said, her tone brisk. "Feed me the data stream. I’ll use our planetary relay network to triangulate possible origins."

Within moments, lines of glowing code filled the air, forming a web of shifting coordinates.

"Multiple pings," Veyra said quickly. "The signal bounced across at least nine locations—Lunaria, territories outside the continent, the Dark Lands, even the planet’s moon..."

"But?" Kyren’s tone was low, dangerous.

Veyra exhaled. "But they all converge on one broad sector. The strongest signal residue points to... Arcadia."

The silence that followed was thick enough to choke on.

Kyren’s expression hardened, his aura darkening until the lights around him flickered.

"Of course," he murmured. "He’s always one step ahead."

He turned toward the window, where the crimson skies stretched endlessly beyond.

"Prepare my craft, Farrell," he said, voice like steel. "I’m going to Arcadia."