Bloodbound in the Capital

Nova smiled little, knowing, allowing the silence to hang between them like suspended breath. Her eyes rested on him, weighing, as if she could see behind his hooded thoughts. Her voice fell when she spoke, low and heavy. "By the way, Leon," she said, cautious and measured, "I… and the others, we must understand your strategy.". How do you plan to advance from here… with us already well inside the enemy's capital?

"

The darkness beneath the hood moved with the jumping of the tavern light, and Leon's lips drew back into a taunting, soft smile. It wasn't broad, but it was full of a certain swagger that zipped through the space in a nearly imperceptible thrum. "My wifey," he breathed, his tone soft, smooth, nearly velvety, "don't you know me yet?

Nova's acutely green eyes contracted, a flash of suspicion crossing her face as though she was measuring his words against some concealed truth. "What are you saying?" she demanded, voice tight, poised between interest and wariness. Her entire body seemed tense, drawn to the understated strength emanating from him. Leon relaxed back slightly, the action loose but intentional, and the soft light of the lantern picked up the angle of his jaw. There was a stillness in him, a deadly sort of confidence that caused her heart to flutter in spite of herself. "You've witnessed how I get things done," he said, his voice deep and smooth, "even when the odds are against, I… manage.".

You really think I'd let us walk blindly into danger?

" His words weren't a boast; they were a promise, the kind that wrapped around her chest and left it tight.

Nova's eyes narrowed, suspicion and respect intertwined. She craved more, required more, and the very serenity in him had her racing faster. "Still," she pushed, slouching forward slightly, the green of her eyes glinting, "you can't suddenly move on impulse. Not when we're as deep in hostile lands as we are. We need… something tangible."

Leon cocked his head, allowing the hood to obscure his face, but the slight smirk remained. "Concrete isn't always the path ahead," he whispered low and teasingly. "Sometimes, it's knowing which rocks to tread on and which ones to leave alone. Haven't I always done that?" Nova's lips clamped together, her eyes unflinching. Suspicion hadn't dissipated, but neither had a odd heat that flared up her spine, a blending of hope and faith that wouldn't be dislodged. Leon settled back in his chair, his gloved hand slung over the edge of the table. His hood hid most of his face, but golden eyes caught the tavern glow and blazed like coals. He talked slow, slow—each sentence a tiny knife. "The capital's mightiest warriors, its best cultivators, even the so-called 'monarch elites'—they're not all here. Don't you think it's stupid to battle them face-on when their strength is dispersed? There are more than fifty Grandmaster Realm cultivators within these walls, yes… but so what?" His smile expanded, patient and deadly.

"We're more than sufficient to destroy them if it comes to that.".

Especially with Natasha beside us. If I, you, and the rest of us strike together—directly and without hesitation—we'll bring this kingdom to its knees before dawn." For a moment the table held its breath. The tavern's distant noise dimmed, as if the room itself leaned in to listen. The plan in Leon's voice felt less like a strategy and more like a promise—one that tasted of iron and certainty. Captain Black was the first to shatter the silence. He kept his hand close to his sword as if the steel by his side would respond better than words. His voice, when he used it, was gravel and age, the sort which had lived through too many campaigns to be taken in by bravado. "My lord… I know your strength. I've watched you bring down monsters men call legends.". But this capital—King Gary is not stupid.

Don't you think he's ready?

There is no way he hasn't prepared traps and defenses.

The moment we make any move; the whole royal guard will come down.

Leon tilted his head, the hood drawing shadows over his cheekbones. The faint glow in his eyes made the room colder. "Of course, he's prepared. He's not a fool. There'll be traps. Defensive runes. Maybe even spiritual formations protecting the palace. But," his voice narrowed into that same lethal calm that could quiet arguments and start wars, "runes and defenses are meant to be broken. Leave that to me. Anything he built—I'll tear apart."

A ripple of responses went around the table—grim nods, tightening grips, contemplative silence. Ronan and Vice-Captain Johnny shared a look that was equal parts worry and reluctant trust; veterans who'd opted to follow a man who made war appear unavoidable. Nova didn't conceal her interest. She leaned forward, elbow on the table, regarding Leon through the gloom, her face inscrutable but her eyes as sharp as flint.

Then, another voice pierced the strained silence, thin and tentative. "But, my lord…" Natasha's voice shook, every syllable laden with terror she could hardly keep from spilling. She whispered, as if her own voice might give her away. "There's one more thing. I… I can't fight." Leon's eyes squinted, confusion and interest crossing his face. The others looked at her at once, their faces a combination of surprise, concern, and unease. Natasha felt the pressure of their unspoken attention weighting down on her, and she sat up, bob-cut hair reflecting the warm light, shining like a tiny shield. She took a deep, trembling breath, catching herself before going on. It's not that I don't want to fight," she declared, her voice slow, strained with the truth she couldn't deny. "I can't. I'm sworn to King Gary through a blood pact. If I betray him. if I raise a hand against him, my sister will suffer. With her life.

The pact is sealed with our blood.".

I can never defy him or his throne… not until he is no longer sitting on it.undefinedI hope… I hope you know what that implies."undefinedA thick, heavy silence enveloped the table, crushing and oppressive, as if the air itself had congealed.