The rhythmic creak of the carriage wheels rolled like a lullaby across the cobbled path.
Inside, Kael sat in stillness, eyes fixed on the scroll in his hand—Grave Chant. Its black wax seal had been carefully broken earlier, now resealed with his own protective layer.
He exhaled softly and slid it back into his space ring.
His thoughts drifted briefly—Robin's sour expression, the way the man had practically whined when Kael insisted on taking the undeciphered scroll.
"Too dangerous," he had said.
Kael had just smiled.
Later, he was handed the contract—a cursed parchment laced with ancient bindings.
The terms were clear: he could use the spells, but sharing them, in any form, meant death.
Instant. Absolute.
Kael smiled again and signed.
After all… in the dreamrealm, rules were only as real as he allowed them to be.
Then he left the castle without a word.
Venom, his ever-hungry shadow, was still inside—lurking, feeding, exploring.
