Chapter 74: Chapter 74

A hush fell over the street, thick with the sudden tension.

Even the wind seemed to hesitate, holding its breath.

Breaking the quiet, a melodious voice, deceptively sweet, reached their ears, “Please, forgive my brothers! They are young and reckless.”

The speaker, however, appeared only moments later.

A beautiful woman with cascades of dark brown hair, pale, flawless skin, and sharp, dark brown eyes.

She stood around 1.7 meters tall, her body shapely and alluring, draped in tight-fitting mage robes.

It was a vision Sokram would have found captivating if he didn't know the rot that festered beneath the surface of Sandra nid Steelheart, a Tier 10 Sorceress Reformed Existence.

She stepped forward, positioning herself between her brothers and Sokram, offering him a polite bow and salutation with her fist over her heart.

“Young Lord Dracnakrid,” her voice smooth, a practiced apology in her tone, “please forgive my brothers.”

She met his gaze with a polite smile.

But Sokram caught the flicker in her pupils, a brief, sharp contraction that betrayed something darker beneath the surface.

“I know people of the north don’t favor us from the south, but the reason we’re here is tied to a competition for succession. My father, the Patriarch, instructed us to come here. I beg your understanding…”

“So you’re saying that the Patriarch of the Steelheart sent his children to provoke the founding families of Eversnow, to provoke the protectors of the border, and for what?”

This time, it wasn’t Sokram who spoke. It was Kanami, and the look on her face was far beyond threatening.

Her grey eyes, usually sharp with intelligence, now burned with cold fury, and a low growl rumbled in her chest. “As a succession dispute?!”

“Please, Lady Gray Alpha, don’t misunderstand.” Sandra’s smile tightened almost imperceptibly, though her voice remained apologetic.

“My father sent us on a mission to aid Eversnow because of the tension around the border. Still, he gave us little funding, trusting in our capability. I know our way of doing things might be seen as insulting, but…”

Sandra hadn’t even finished speaking when Sokram decided to add fuel to the fire, preventing her from dampening the flames of outrage her brothers had ignited. Follow current novᴇls on ⓝovelFire.net

“Aid Eversnow?” Sokram’s voice was sharp, cutting through her practiced apology.

“Then where are your shields? Why have none of us seen your men in the forts on the border? We don’t need your alms; we are not beggars! We are warriors of Norwinter, the bravest and the strongest ones at that! Take your brothers and leave, and if I were you, I would go back to the south. Using our city as a competition ground is the same as spitting on our faces!”

By then, the commotion had attracted a large crowd.

Common folk murmured in enraged agreement, and many wore expressions of vindication, nodding in agreement with Sokram’s righteous fury.

Merchants gossiped among themselves, knowing the name Steelheart could now bring them losses.

Even a few minor nobles and members of other founding families had gathered, some agreeing with Sokram, others merely present for the spectacle.

All were drawn by the heated exchange, watched, too, with keen interest by the foxes of the Purple Pavilion from nearby shadows.

“It seems the young successor of the Androny family has decided to antagonize us,” Sandra said, her voice still outwardly calm but with a growing edge of frustration.

She bowed exaggeratedly, sweeping her gaze across the faces of the gathered family heads and the growing crowd.

“I’m here humbly apologizing, and yet all my apologies are being thrown back at me as arrows; it’s clear you aim to keep this animosity instead of giving us a chance.”

With that final, theatrical statement, she straightened and, taking her brothers by the arm, turned and walked away, melting back into the flow of the crowded street, ignoring the many hateful glares they were receiving.

Aaron and Adrian continued to look back as they left, casting venomous glances laced with hatred at Sokram.

A farmer spat at the Steelhearts’ retreating backs, the globule landing inches from Adrian’s boot.

The crowd’s murmurs swelled like a tide.

Watching their retreating backs, Sokram turned to Alain, concern filling his gaze.

“Did you sense anyone as strong as you around?”

Alain nodded, his expression serious. “Yes, he was hidden well in the shadows; we can confirm it, they have an Exalted with them.”

“Which means that whatever they are here to do is important enough to warrant such protection, hm?”

Lazar approached, his arms crossed, his earlier amusement replaced by thoughtful caution.

“It seems you were right about them, Sokram. Don’t worry, you can count on us. The Goldenmanes stand with you.”

“Thank you, Head Lazar!” Sokram nodded respectfully, a genuine smile touching his lips.

He then turned to Kanami. “Thank you, too, Head Kanami, for stepping forward. With another family head speaking up…”

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Sokram gestured subtly towards the townspeople still watching them, their faces a mix of curiosity and disapproval directed at the departing Steelhearts. “It lessens the chance of people thinking this was merely a personal dispute. And hopefully, some might even become wary of them now.”

“You’re welcome, Sokram.” Kanami’s stern expression softened, a hint of a smile playing on her lips.

“And please, just Kanami will do. You’re the future head of a founding family. You get to call me Auntie. How about it?”

For a brief second, Sokram considered that, given her age, he should probably be calling her grandma, but he dismissed the thought, charmed by her offer.

He nodded, a broad, delighted smile spreading across his face. “Sure, Auntie Kanami.”

“Good,” Kanami muttered with a rare softness, clapping his shoulder hard enough to make him stumble.

A show of respect, as wolves never hold back with those they see as equals.

She nodded approvingly, then turned to her family elders.

“Let’s go. We need to take these wolves around town to the stables.”

Lazar also bade his farewells and, with his retinue and the newly acquired horses and war bears, followed Kanami towards the South Gates.

Amid the dispersing crowd's chatter, the sounds of the beasts leaving filled the air.

Wolves howled, horses trotted on the stony streets, and bears growled. Fira and Ice looked back at Sokram, clearly unwilling to be separated from their new friend.

Sokram only waved and smiled in return.

“So, where to now?” Hannah approached, her voice warm, asking him.

“Let’s go see Mr. Figos. But first, let me talk to Mr. Oliver.” Sokram replied, already turning back towards the stable entrance.

His talk with Oliver was brief and straightforward.

Now that the stable was empty, Oliver should focus on finding birds for the next phase of their deal.

Sokram even threw in a few helpful tips. Mentioning that some non-flight birds known for their running ability would be entering their mating seasons soon, making them easier to locate and capture.

After agreeing on a few technicalities, Sokram left Oliver to his task and headed for Figos's butchery.

Meanwhile, the Steelhearts had arrived back at their estate.

While not one of the largest in the city, it was luxurious enough for the three siblings and their servants to live more than comfortably.

But now, no servants could be seen walking around in the large entry hall of their mansion.

The air inside the Steelheart estate felt heavy, almost electric.

Even if the servants had continued working as usual, it couldn’t have masked the rising tension as Aaron and Adrian stood rigid under Sandra’s glare, their breath shallow under the weight of her fury.

“You disobedient little brats! I told you I would handle that fucking lizard! But you couldn’t bear to be a little more patient, could you?!”

“I’m sorry, big sis. It was my fault,” Aaron began, trying to placate her, though his voice trembled slightly.

“We received info that this meeting was happening, and we wanted to help you, maybe intimidate him…”

He was cut off by a burst of harsh, mocking laughter from Sandra. “Hahaha, intimidate him? Do you think that lizard is like the snobs’ succession candidates from the capital, whom you can bully without consequences? This isn’t Winterheart! And that kid was named Chosen Successor of Lady Androny! Did you actually think he would be simple?!”

Sandra shook her head, a weary, frustrated sigh escaping her lips.

But Adrian, trembling visibly now, made an effort to meet her furious gaze.

“But sis,” he stammered, “I think they might have infiltrated a spy in our house.”

Unwilling to believe that Sokram had seen through their plans, he pressed on. “He knew we planned to ruin the crops! Our whole plan…”

Adrian flew across the opulent entry hall like a ragdoll, crashing against the far wall with a sickening thud.

Sandra, with a simple wave of her hand, had sent him flying.

“What he saw through was your panicked expression!” Sandra shrieked, her voice raw with rage.

“He was bluffing, and you fell for his bluff! And now we cannot use that plan anymore because the heads and elders of the other families saw through your poor attempt to mask it when you got caught! Fuck!”

Sandra lost her temper completely, ugly crying.

Her fists struck the wall.

Like a butcher tenderizing meat.

Aaron flinched with each blow.

She didn't stop until her knuckles were bruised and bleeding.

“Why did Father choose these two idiots? I was so close to being chosen! So close! Why give me dead weight?!”

But before she could do further damage to her fist, one of the guards appeared beside her, his stubby fingers closed around her wrist, his healing magic seeping into her split skin like soothing water.

The man was Dnoll, a Tier 10 Exalted Existence Warlock, the same one Alain had sensed lurking in the shadows.

He was bald, with dark brown eyes accentuated by thick, dark green eyeliner.

Despite his protruding belly, his frame was surprisingly muscular for his short stature of 1.4 meters, a common trait for Half-Gnomes, which he was.

Checking her rapidly healing fist, Dnoll nodded approvingly before announcing, his voice calm amidst the chaos, “There are two individuals named Kazzah vid Silverfang and Timothy at the gates asking to speak with the Steelhearts. They said they were the ones who gave us the tip about the meeting today, and they claim to have more information to sell.”

“Sell?” Sandra looked at the Half-Gnome questioningly, her eyes red-rimmed but sharp with renewed interest.

When Dnoll merely nodded, she straightened, wiping the tears from her face. “Take them to my office. I’ll speak with them alone.”

“But sis…” Even before Aaron could voice his objection, he, too, was sent flying across the entry hall with a powerful, unseen force, being knocked unconscious after hitting the wall with a resounding bang.

While this chaos unfolded at the Steelheart estate, Sokram had just arrived at Figos’s butchery.

But what he encountered left him flabbergasted.

There was a line stretching out from the shop, consisting of at least thirty people, and not just people from the slums.

He spotted several soldiers among the customers.

Even with Figos’s two sons helping him, it was clear that Figos’s business struggles had fully flipped for the better.

His sons were Kumi and Lius.

Unlike Figos, they weren’t Werecats; they were Feline-kin, having inherited more of their mother’s genes.

Still, they were hairier than most Feline-kin, giving them the appearance of Lynxes with human faces and piercing, blueish, feral eyes.

The boys, already as tall as their father, had graduated from the academy, yet found themselves consistently struggling to find employment, a harsh reality born of prejudice against their mixed heritage.

When the crowd saw Sokram and his grandmothers approaching the store, all eyes turned to them.

But instead of joining the end of the long line, they walked directly into the shop.

This earned them a few curious stares, but Figos quickly excused himself to deal with a personal matter with his friends.

Once the customers saw that Lady Androny, the Matriarch herself, didn't mind being called a friend by the Werecat butcher, murmurs of gossip began to ripple through the line.

Once inside his office, which was not exactly an office, but more a small dismantling room.

The tang of blood clung to the walls, undercut by the sharp vinegar Figos used to scrub his tools.

Knives of all shapes and sizes gleamed on the walls, pelts hung like grotesque tapestries, their fur matted with frost.

Close to the ceiling, poorly enchanted runic inscriptions could be seen on each wall.

Anyone with even a basic understanding of magic would recognize they were crude attempts to keep the room cold.

The ceiling lights were also cheap Magi-Lights that flickered erratically, threatening to plunge the room into shadow at any moment.

And yet, despite the makeshift conditions, all of them noticed the remarkable cleanliness.

Even with his Dragon Sight, Sokram couldn’t spot a single drop of blood, a speck of dust, or even a lingering stain.

This level of meticulousness, despite the humble setting, clearly demonstrated how seriously Figos and his sons took the hygiene of their workplace.

Even Margiory nodded, a rare sign of her approval.

“Welcome to my humble butchering room and office, friends.” Figos smiled, his voice thick with gratitude.

He then knocked his fist over his heart and bowed deeply to them. “And thank you for changing mine and my family’s fate! For that, I’ll be forever grateful!”