The winter solstice festival finally arrived, and for the first time since I came to this hideout, the yard that was usually empty and filled only with dust, sweat, and the sound of training was crowded with people.
Members of the Fated Circle filled the space, sitting shoulder to shoulder along long wooden tables and benches, their black cloaks loosened, their expressions relaxed, their voices overlapping in laughter and loud conversation. At the front of the yard stood a large wooden throne, rough but sturdy, and Master sat there with ease, while the five ring leaders occupied chairs beside him. In front of us lay an overwhelming amount of food and alcohol, like roasted meat, thick bread, steaming soup, and barrels of drink that were opened one after another without restraint.
The atmosphere was warm, noisy, and alive, so different from our usual days that it almost felt unreal.
I waited for the usual feeling.
The tension.
The tightness in my chest.
The instinct to scan every movement, every shadow.
But it didn't come.
Not fully.
Instead, there was something else.
Something unfamiliar.
It wasn't comfort. It wasn't safety.
But it was… warmer.
Like sitting near a fire without knowing when it might burn you.
I didn't understand it.
So I stayed quiet and let it exist.
Master himself seemed to be in an unusually good mood. He wore his mask only over the upper half of his face, leaving his mouth uncovered so he could eat and drink alongside us, and seeing that alone made the entire gathering feel closer, more human.
"This is our first winter solstice festival as the Fated Circle."
His voice carried easily across the yard.
Conversation died instantly.
"WHAT IS OUR PURPOSE?"
"TO KILL THE EMPEROR!"
The response came without hesitation.
Loud.
Unified.
Even I shouted it without thinking, my voice blending into the roar.
"Good," Master said, a faint smile visible beneath the mask. "Right now, I am satisfied with our progress. You have exceeded my expectations. The path ahead is no longer uncertain. Our future is clear, and the day the emperor's head rests in our hands is no longer a dream, but an inevitability. Continue like this, and the world itself will not be able to stop us."
The response was explosive.
Cheers echoed through the yard. Mugs slammed against tables. Laughter and shouting mixed until it felt like the mountain itself might shake.
For the rest of the night, we ate until our stomachs hurt and laughed until our faces felt sore, the tension of months of training finally released in something raw and unrestrained.
Theo grabbed a piece of roasted meat with both hands, tearing into it like he hadn't eaten in days.
"This…this is what I'm talking about," he said through a mouthful of food.
"You say that every time we eat," Agni replied.
"Yeah, but this time it's better."
Pritha nodded eagerly, already on her second bowl of soup. "It is better."
Margaretha rolled her eyes but didn't argue. Even she was eating more than usual.
Robert sat quietly, as always, but there was more food on his plate than I'd ever seen before.
Theo leaned closer to me, lowering his voice slightly. "…we should try the alcohol."
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because you'll do something stupid."
"I already do stupid things."
"…that's the problem."
He grinned. "Exactly."
Before he could reach for one of the mugs, a hand smacked his wrist.
"Not for you."
One of the older members laughed as Theo pulled his hand back.
"You're still kids," the man said. "Enjoy the food. Leave the drinking for later."
Theo sighed dramatically. "…this is discrimination."
Margaretha smirked. "You'd pass out in one sip."
"I would not."
"You would."
Pritha giggled.
For a moment, it felt… light.
***
One by one, the ring leaders began to speak.
All except Elder Duvent.
He remained silent, watching.
Listening.
Elder Patriakis stood first.
"We successfully created a merchant guild in Eritrech capital, Amara. Now we control half the goods of Amara and gain full support from 3 count in the city."
He spoke calmly, but every word carried weight.
Then he continued the details, strategies, manipulation, and deception layered upon deception. How they infiltrated trade routes, replaced key figures, and turned allies into puppets.
It was brutal.
Not in blood.
But in intent.
The crowd was captivated.
Cheering.
Laughing.
Admiring.
I listened carefully.
There was a pattern.
I learn about control and influence.
Lies that became truth because enough people believed them.
"Next plan is we will expand to Paris city, then all the south to fully control the trade route."
He ended with a glance at Seyren.
Seyren stood next.
"We successfully gained control of the underworld of Paris and fully got support from the Count of Versailles."
Then came the battles.
The raids.
The blood.
Havan stepped in to continue, describing operations with a steady voice, including the gambling den.
Our mission.
People leaned forward.
Listening.
"…and our next plan is to war with Count Bordeaux and control Francis underworld entirely."
More cheers.
Louder this time.
Then Havan's turn came.
"We successfully recruit some fresh blood for our Fated Circle."
Applause erupted.
"We successfully set up a mercenary group in Melandru Duchy. We do many exploring and finish countless bloody missions."
His tone didn't change.
Even when describing killing.
It was normal to him.
"…we found several bloodline hideouts. So next year, we will recruit them. Thor included."
The reaction was immediate.
Excitement surged through the crowd.
Thor's bloodline.
Even I knew that name.
Three words appear in my mind. Lightning. Power. Dominance.
Something my father once mentioned.
Something Frans once admired.
My chest tightened slightly.
But this time…
It didn't hurt as much.
***
Then Spiro stood.
And everything shifted.
Because he was smiling.
Clearly drunk.
And clearly proud.
"Let me tell you about them."
He pointed at us.
Every head turned.
I froze.
"…no," I muttered under my breath.
Too late.
He started.
The Wrock Brothers.
The way we surrounded them.
The coordination.
Robert is holding the front.
Margaretha is cutting through defenses.
Agni and Pritha burn everything without hesitation.
And me.
"…and this idiot," Spiro said, laughing, pointing directly at me, "ran straight forward instead of freezing like a normal kid."
Laughter.
Cheers.
My ears burned.
He didn't stop. He continues our next story
The orc hunt. Our little competition of collecting orc heads entertains people.
The bandits. The people laugh at the bandit leader, who tries to run away, and applaud when Theo kills him from the shadows.
And then…
The gambling den.
"…and somehow," Spiro continued, raising his mug, "he tricked thirty assassins into killing each other."
The crowd exploded.
I couldn't breathe.
My face felt like it was on fire.
Because that wasn't what I remembered.
Not bravery.
Not a strategy.
Just fear.
Chaos.
Blood everywhere.
The greedy assassin screaming and fighting for my eyes.
Dying.
Too close.
I lowered my head instinctively.
I wanted to disappear.
But…
My chest tightened.
Not from fear.
From something else.
Something steady.
It was quiet but burning.
Did I feel pride?
I hated it.
But I couldn't deny it.
"…you're famous now," Theo whispered beside me.
"Shut up." That is the only word that comes from my mouth.
"I'm serious."
"…shut up."
Agni leaned slightly forward. "…he exaggerated."
Margaretha shook her head. "…not that much."
Pritha smiled softly at me. "…you were amazing."
I looked away.
"…I was lucky."
Robert spoke quietly. "…luck is part of skill."
I didn't answer.
Because if I did…
I wasn't sure what would come out.
***
The night continued.
Laughter.
The food keeps coming endlessly.
People share all their stories.
For once…
No one was training.
No one was watching for danger.
No one was preparing to kill.
We just… existed.
Together.
And as I sat there, surrounded by noise, warmth, and people who had seen the same blood I had…
I realized something.
That feeling earlier.
The warmth.
The unfamiliar one.
I think…
This is what it was.
Not safety.
Not peace.
But something close.
Something fragile.
Something temporary.
But real.
And for the first time…
I didn't push it away.
I let it stay.
Even if I didn't understand it.
Even if I knew…
It wouldn't last forever.