Kael remained silent, pondering Varen’s words, while the others continued to look at Bereon. Worry and compassion were evident in their eyes.

  Bereon noticed the heavy mood and smiled faintly. "You don't need to feel sad or burdened," he said. "This is my story, and I played my part in how it ended. My past no longer matters.” He pointed at Kael. "What matters now is the present."

  Then he folded his fingers in front of his face, his expression turning serious. His gaze never left Kael.

  "That story was meant to show you the injustices and crimes committed by the royal family," he continued, "but it was also meant to show you that this empire rests on an almost indestructible system. The royal family and its Order are far too powerful to be easily overthrown.”

  Bereon sighed. "Their use of Motarith counters the power of words wielded by us chroniclers. Unfortunately, the only Motarith mine lies directly beneath the royal palace, making infiltration impossible. You could say the royal family holds a monopoly over Motarith and decides who is allowed to wield it."

  Kael’s eyes widened. This was the first time he had heard something so significant.

  "But no matter how fearsome the king and his forces are," Bereon continued, his expression darkening, "the dangers beyond this empire are far worse. I am still haunted by things I encountered out there...things I wish I had never seen." He looked Kael directly in the eyes, his voice honest and grave. "Trust me, Kael. Not even words can save you from every danger."

  "I can imagine that," Kael admitted, though his expression remained questioning. "But I still don't understand how you can do anything against such an impenetrable system. Don’t take this personally, but I can’t picture you infiltrating the royal palace during the New Year's festival, even with my help.”

  Upon hearing this, Sera burst out laughing. Even Sylas allowed himself a faint smile.

  Noticing Kael’s confusion, Bereon asked, amused, “Why do you think we need your help to enter the royal palace?”

  Kael frowned. "Well..." he hesitated. "The timing seemed right. I received the invitation just a few days before your letter, so I assumed the two were connected.”

  Bereon rested his hand against his chin. "Hm, you're right. That is an interesting coincidence." Then he shook his head. "But no. You are not here for that reason, and we have no intention of infiltrating the palace. Attacking the king directly would be pointless.”

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  He glanced at his comrades, his gaze softening. "Each of us has tried to interfere with the king's schemes in our own way. The most we could manage was robbing corrupt nobles, freeing slaves, and eliminating low-born nobles who committed unimaginable crimes. We helped, but always beneath the king’s notice, making it appear as though bandits or thieves were responsible.”

  Kael’s eyes widened as a memory surfaced. "So...you were the ones who gave Astra the information about the Greystones," he said, more as a realization than a question.

  Bereon smiled softly but said nothing.

  “Thank you,” Kael said, his voice heavy with gratitude. "Without your help, one of my best friends would have suffered."

  Sera snorted. "I still think that was a mistake. We should have dealt with that family ourselves instead of leaving it to those useless guards."

  Kael’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t agree with her and opened his mouth to respond, but Bereon raised a hand, stopping him.

  "That's enough," Bereon said calmly. “We are not here to debate that.” He sat up straight, his expression growing serious. "Until recently, we had no real way to move closer to our goal. But something happened that changed our plans.”

  His gaze shifted to Kael.

  "Something you were part of."

  Kael’s thoughts raced as he searched his memory for what Bereon could mean. Then it clicked.

  "The Evaluation," he said finally, his voice steady. “The king sponsored a sword forged from Motarith for first place.”

  Bereon nodded. "Exactly. That sword could change everything. With it, we could evade the king’s attempts to track us beyond the Empire and defend ourselves against the unknown dangers.”

  “So that’s your plan?” Kael asked, his voice rising despite himself. “Breaking into the academy to steal a sword guarded by some of the strongest people in the Empire? That sounds delusional.”

  Several faces around the table darkened at his words; their pride was clearly wounded. But Bereon merely lifted his hand again, calming them.

  "It may sound delusional," Bereon admitted. "Even like madness." A faint smile touched his lips. "But sometimes madness is necessary to achieve what seems impossible."

  He leaned forward slightly. "We have a plan. All we need is someone inside the academy to help us. A scout.”

  Kael studied him in silence.

  It did seem impossible. Yet, he believed Bereon when he said they had a plan. They were strange, even unsettling, but there was no denying their capability.

  I’m not sure I trust them, Kael thought. But that sword is worth the risk, even if it means stealing it from Cassandra.

  "I'm in," Kael said finally. "What do you need from me?"

  Surprise flickered across several faces.

  "I expected you'd need more time," Bereon said honestly. "But this is even better." He glanced toward the broken window. "It's late. You should return to the academy before your absence draws attention. We’ll explain the details next time.”

  “Should I expect another letter?” Kael asked.

  Bereon’s smile widened slightly.

  "No," he said. "This time will be different."