Chapter Thirty Eight.

Chapter Thirty Eight.
But the pain was nothing compared to the boiling fury inside him.

With a furious growl, his body trembled—and his power surged. Uncontrolled and furious.

In the blink of an eye, glass windows shattered. The wooden beam above cracked.

The mirrors on the wall exploded into glittering fragments, raining down like cursed stars.

The torches lining the wall flickered wildly, one even snuffing out from the violent gust his powers summoned.

Alaric stood in the center of it all, panting hard.

From the shadows behind him, a slow clap echoed in the room.

“You demons really need to find a better way to manage your raging blood,” came a teasing, sultry voice.

Alaric turned sharply, still fuming. “What the hell are you doing here, Isla?” he snapped.

She emerged from the dark like a shadow given form—tall, graceful, her silver hair flowing like water.

Her sharp eyes studied him, unbothered by the destruction or the raw anger rolling off him.

“I came to see if your tantrum would bring down the whole training wing,” she said, voice cool. “But clearly, you’re still your usual charming self.”

He sneered. “If you came here to waste my time—”

She raised a hand, silencing him. “You destroyed the Temple in Brimhaven.”

“And?” Alaric growled, blood still dripping from his wrist.

“When I said cause a distraction, I didn’t mean summon the wrath of the four nations” she said coldly. “That temple was sacred, Alaric. You didn’t need to torch the entire thing to make a statement.”

“I did what was necessary,” he bit out.

She let out a low chuckle. “You really do hate him, don’t you? Kaidon.”

Alaric’s jaw clenched.

“Well,” Isla continued, gliding closer to him, her expression unreadable. “That’s something we both have in common.”

She reached for his arm without warning. Alaric flinched but didn’t pull away as her fingers pressed against his bleeding wrist.

Her magic was cold, smooth like ice. Within seconds, the gash sealed itself, leaving behind only the faintest red mark.

“You said you knew how to kill him,” Alaric said, his voice low, seething. “You promised me.”

“I did,” Isla replied, her eyes gleaming. “With his soulmate.”

At those words, Alaric’s rage boiled over again.

“Soulmate? How the hell does he—” He cut off, jaw twitching. “Why him? Why does he get to have something like that? And if he does… why does no one know about it?!”

“Because,” Isla said smoothly, “Kaidon is no ordinary demon. He’s born of ancient magic—one that rivals the gods themselves. If he has a soulmate, believe me, he would hide her well. He would guard her like his last breath.”

Alaric’s fists clenched at his side. His entire body was tense, shaking with barely concealed fury.

Isla leaned in close, her voice a whisper against his ear, silky and sharp. “But… the thing is…” She smiled, wicked and slow. “She’s not that hidden.”

Alaric froze.

“What?”

“You can see her if you want,” Isla continued, stepping away with a smirk tugging her lips. “She’s already out in the open.”

Alaric turned toward her fully now, his eyes narrowing.

Meanwhile…

The portal rippled behind them like a silent wave before vanishing entirely, leaving Taliya and Kaidon standing at the edge of Brimhaven Town.

Taliya blinked as her eyes adjusted to the light. Before her lay a bustling town—streets lined with vendors shouting over each other, colorful stalls brimming with fruits, fabrics, and foreign goods.

People moved in clusters, trading coins and laughter, children ran barefoot, and the scent of baked bread mingled with something spiced in the air.

A strange warmth settled in her chest.

It reminded her of Eldoria— Javen and Elara.

A gentle smile pulled at her lips.

Kaidon, however, did not smile.

His gaze swept the town coldly, jaw set tight. Taliya noticed the shift in his posture—the way his shoulders tensed, the way he looked at the townspeople.

They feared him.

Whenever he comes down to the town, He could feel it in their steps, the way some glanced up and quickly looked away, how a few even paused what they were doing the moment they caught a glimpse of him. And he hated that memory.

With a breath, Kaidon pulled his hood over his head, shadowing his striking features.

He tugged the dark fabric to also cover his mouth and nose like always, his body language suddenly closed off.

Taliya frowned at the sudden change but said nothing. Not yet.

They began walking through the main road of the town, her eyes curious, taking in everything—while his remained guarded, silent. Taliya could sense something heavy clinging to the air around him.

She looked up at him as they walked.

Why was he hiding his face? Isn't he the king of this place? Or he doesn't want to be seen out?

She was confused.