Reborn Financier-Chapter 40 -: Whispers in the Alley

The streets of Aschel buzzed with a vitality Kaidën was barely acquainted with.

These streets three years before had consisted of nothing more than cracked roads and dust, sprinkled about with the broken dreams of the indigent. The alleys had been lined by beggars, the streets by robbers who roamed free, and the atmosphere thick with despair as thick as smoke.

But now.

Now there were asphalt roads, neat market stands, and cheerful voices in the breeze.

It was far from perfect — the whiff of hidden corruption hung over parts of it — but a renewed country.

Kaidën and Zarel walked side by side, both clad in brown hooded robes and mingling with the crowds.

Yet despite the lively surface, Kaidën’s senses caught everything — every suspicious glance, every greedy murmur.

His ears, honed to unnatural sharpness, picked up whispers half a mile away. His closed eyes, wrapped lightly in a thin golden blindfold, saw the world in a clarity that human sight could never hope to match.

He overheard them plotting.

"Check out those two. they’re nobles or something."

"Did you see all the gold they were throwing at that bartender? Bloody idiots."

"They’re so easy targets. just wait until they slice through the alleys."

Kaidën’s lips curved into a slow, sly grin.

Zarel stood beside him, tense. His eyes turned a glowing red under the hood.

"Young Master," he whispered softly, his own voice a warm, shaking whisper of anticipation, "do I dispose of them quietly? No one will even notice."

Kaidën chuckled softly, shaking his head.

"No, no, Zarel. Let’s play along. After all..." His grin widened, teeth flashing like a wolf’s.

"Sometimes, letting the prey believe they’ve won... makes the slaughter so much sweeter."

Zarel smirked, bowing his head respectfully. "As you command."

They moved quietly into a side alleyway from the crowded market.

****

The alleyway was narrow, the walls closing in on each side like the gullet of a creature that would engulf them.

All was perfect.

Out of the darkness eight appeared, flashes of metal in the dim light — knives, rusty swords, two rough-looking axes.

They extended in front and in the rear, blocking all means of escape.

The leader, a burly, scar-twisted man, swaggered to the fore, scraping a rusty axe along the ground with a metallic shriek.

"Aha, ah, what do we have here? He sneered at Kaidën and Zarel greedily."

"Fat rabbits...strayed into the wolf’s den."

Kaidën hung his head, and his shoulders shuddered noticeably.

He clutched the hem of his cloak like a frightened child.

"P-please..." he whimpered, his voice cracking perfectly. "I... I don’t want any trouble... here, take everything I have!"

He fumbled with his pouch, spilling a cascade of glittering gold coins onto the ground.

Their eyes widened — true greed shining on their faces.

Zarel, along with Kaidën, gritted his teeth so hard that he might have cracked them. He jerked his hand towards his sword.

It took all the willpower in the world not to paint the alleyway red on the spot.

The chief of the gang laughed and advanced towards the gold.

"A smart little brat, huh? Knows when to roll over," he snickered.

One of the thugs smacked Kaidën hard on the back, nearly making him stumble.

Another grabbed a few pouches hidden under Zarel’s cloak.

"Tsk, tsk, nobles these days," one of them said mockingly. "So easy to scare."

"Look at this one!" another sneered, pointing at Zarel’s furious face.

"Pouting like a little girl. Hahaha!"

Zarel’s eye twitched violently.

Kaidën, trembling, glanced up at the leader, voice barely above a whisper. 𝑓𝘳𝘦𝑒𝑤𝑒𝘣𝘯ℴ𝘷𝘦𝓁.𝑐𝑜𝑚

"Can... can we go now...?"

The leader smiled, waving goodbye as he and his crew turned back, throwing the gold back and forth among themselves as children throw a ball.

"Go back to your mother, you kid... And hope we don’t get bored later."

They set off on the open highway, laughing and slapping each other on the back.

Kaidën’s shaking stopped abruptly.

He unbent slowly and lifted his head.

A cold hard smile spread across his lips.

"Zarel," Kaidën said in a smooth tone

"Yes, Young Master?"

"You may proceed."

The air cracked.

Without even unsheathing his weapon, Zarel moved.

He extended his hand slightly — barely a flick of his wrist — and the air pressure shifted violently.

CRACK!

Eight heads exploded from their shoulders simultaneously, spinning into the air like grotesque ribbons.

A burst of scarlet mist invaded the alleyway as the walls were smeared by fresh gore and the bodies dropped quietly to the ground.

Not a single scream.

Not a single second wasted.

The only sound was the soft dripping of the blood.

Zarel calmly wiped an imaginary speck of dust from his glove.

"My apologies, Young Master," he said, bowing low.

"I... may have gotten carried away."

Kaidën released a dramatic sigh as they dodged a twitching hand.

"You really are no fun, Zarel. You could have at least let them realize they were dying. Where’s the fun in instant death?"

"I will do better the next time," replied Zarel gravely.

Kaidën chuckled softly, almost a boyish sound.

"Come on. Let’s go home."

****

The city spread out before them again, throbbing and vibrant, indifferent as before to the carnage that was happening a street away.

Zarel pulled his hood up over his face and followed Kaidën into the crowd.

The castle loomed before them today as a testament to endurance and change, towering over the city of Aschel.

But as they were crossing the square, a sharp, piercing cry.

YOUNG MASTER KAIDËN

Time froze.

Kaidën whirled around, his heart racing within his chest.

There was Elena — on the opposite side of the street, groceries lying all over the sidewalk, sobs streaming down her face.

Older now. Stronger. But the same maid he remembered.

Her hands trembled. Her mouth opened and then closed like it was unable to cope with what was happening.

Kaidën stood amazed for a very long panting period.

He then ran.

All the power and all the strength that he had gained — none of these benefited him at that time.

He was a boy again.

A young boy who missed his family more than words could possibly say.

Elena dropped everything and ran towards him, sobs tearing at her throat.

They landed in the middle of the street, Kaidën holding her close within his arms, face buried against her shoulder.

"I’m home," his voice cracking as he spoke.

Elena embraced him tightly, weeping openly, not minding that a crowd was gathering around them.

"Young master," she cried stroking a hand through his hair as if afraid that he might vanish again.

Around them, the world blurred into color and sound — none of it mattered.

Only family.

Only home.

Zarel stood back, a rare softness in his crimson gaze.

He crossed his arms, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Home at last," he whispered to himself.

To be continued...