Change Is Coming (13)

The cold stone walls of the Drexsic manor stretched endlessly, adorned with ornate silver sconces that flickered with soft flame. The faint scent of aged wood and faint traces of incense lingered in the air, blending with the chill that seemed ever-present in the estate.

"Vryne."

Solara's voice carried across the hall as her hurried footsteps clicked against the polished marble floor. Vryne continued walking, his stride even and deliberate, hands tucked neatly into his sleek black gloves.

"Vryne!" She called again, frustration seeping into her tone.

Finally, he halted mid-step. Without turning fully, he glanced over his shoulder — his obsidian-black eyes cold, impassive.

"Yes." His voice was flat.

"Why?" Solara demanded. "Why did you just—"

"Because I wanted to," Vryne interrupted curtly, giving a slight nod before turning forward and continuing down the hall.

Solara stared at his back, dumbfounded. Her expression twisted — first confused, then irritated. With a loud, frustrated sigh, she muttered under her breath,

"You're so damn straightforward these days."

She crossed her arms tightly against her chest. "I swear… you're making me nervous for the future."

Vryne kept walking, his dark silhouette disappearing behind the corner. The fading echoes of his footsteps seemed to grow quieter and quieter until they vanished entirely.

Solara's gaze lingered on the empty hallway. Her fingers anxiously tapped against her arm.

However.

Deep down… she was happy.

The weight of the engagement, the expectations of the noble circles, the constant scrutiny — all of it had been suffocating. For months, she'd dreaded what was to come, unsure of how she could ever escape the path her family had forced her down.

And yet… when Vryne had been the one to say the words she so desperately wanted to say —

"I can't see a future with her."

It felt like a lifeline. A sense of relief washed over her… yet it was tainted.

Why guilt?

Why did her chest feel hollow hearing those words? Why did her mind keep replaying the way he'd said it — calm, resolved… final.

Shaking her head, Solara took a sharp breath and lightly tapped her cheeks with both hands.

"Don't dwell," she muttered. "Don't think of him like that…"

Her fingers trembled slightly. She had to remember the torment he had caused her — the humiliation, the constant passive cruelty. This was a victory — wasn't it?

"Just… focus on what's next."

With a sigh, she turned in the opposite direction and walked away.

—

The door clicked shut behind him with a low, hollow thud. The room was modest — at least by noble standards — a simple bed, a sleek black desk, and a towering bookshelf crammed with tomes of magic theory, alchemy, and combat strategy.

Vryne exhaled deeply and leaned against the door.

"That could've gone worse…" he muttered under his breath.

The confrontation with Ivor had been calculated — a deliberate test to see how far he could push before the tension broke. But he hadn't expected the weight of his father's gaze to feel so suffocating.

"He's going to resist this."

Pushing off the door, Vryne crossed the room and sat at his desk. Grabbing his phone, he entered the passcode and tapped on a folder titled "The Hero's Ascent."

The screen loaded with dozens of text files, chapter summaries, and key character profiles — fragmented memories of the web novel he'd once edited and read.

His finger scrolled down the screen until he stopped at a file labeled:

[ENGAGEMENT DATE — CHAPTER 75]

Tapping it open, his eyes scanned the details. There it was:

"The engagement ceremony between Vryne El Drexsic and Solara Van Greysteel is scheduled for the 14th day of Aurember — three days from now."

Vryne smirked grimly. Three days. That was all the time he had to ensure this engagement collapsed — cleanly, efficiently, and without leaving himself vulnerable.

His gaze shifted from the phone to the worn book lying open on his desk — an alchemy manual, its pages yellowed yet meticulously annotated.

The page he had left open detailed an intricate transmutation circle — a shattered cup divided into jagged pieces.

The text beneath the image read:

"The Law of Deconstruction — All things created may be unmade. To destroy without violence is to understand the structure and disassemble it piece by piece."

Vryne's fingers traced the diagram, feeling the etched symbols engraved into the parchment. The broken pieces of the cup seemed to pulse with meaning.

A method to break things apart… without force.

His gaze sharpened. "If I can't avoid the ceremony… then I'll break it from the inside out."

He couldn't rely on Ivor letting him walk away peacefully. His father was shrewd — if Vryne's defiance persisted, Ivor would tighten his hold. Solara's backing had weakened over the years, making her engagement to the Drexsic family her last defense against political collapse.

But there was one advantage in his favor:

No one expected him to fight back.

"It's time to get creative."