chapter 86 which kingdom

The Betrayal of the Kingdom's Shadow

Kaelith watched as Malthor's amused smirk gradually faded. His expression turned cold, distant—his gaze not on Kaelith but somewhere far away, lost in the echoes of a past that had long since burned to ash.

For the first time since their meeting, Malthor's aura changed. The cunning merchant, the sly trickster who manipulated bandits and adventurers alike, was momentarily gone. In his place sat a man who had once shaped history—a man who had built an empire from the shadows, only to be discarded like a pawn once his job was done.

Kaelith leaned forward slightly, intrigued. "Which kingdom?"

Malthor's fingers tightened around his mug, and he let out a slow exhale before answering.

"Sakura Kingdom."

Kaelith frowned. "Sakura Kingdom? That weakling of a nation?"

Malthor let out a dry chuckle, though there was no humor in it. He rolled the mug between his hands as if weighing the worth of his past. "It wasn't always weak, boy. It became weak when I left. When I was there, it was on its way to becoming an empire."

Kaelith tilted his head, waiting.

Malthor's lips curled into a mirthless smirk. "When I became the royal advisor, I transformed that pathetic little kingdom into a war machine. Every enemy that stood before us was crushed, burned, or swallowed into oblivion. I devised strategies that sent entire armies into chaos before they even lifted a sword."

He tapped his temple. "War isn't about strength. It's about fear, deception, and control. And I? I was the master of all three."

Kaelith's curiosity deepened. "What exactly did you do?"

Malthor chuckled, shaking his head. "You wouldn't believe half of it. But fine, let me enlighten you."

He took a slow sip of his drink before continuing, his voice calm yet carrying an undercurrent of something sharp, something dangerous.

"I was the one who designed the Trojan War tactic for Sakura Kingdom."

Kaelith raised a brow. "Trojan War?"

Malthor nodded. "Not in the way you're thinking, but the concept was the same. I sent fake refugees—women, children, injured men—toward enemy cities, sobbing, begging for mercy. When the gates opened to let them in, hidden soldiers among them would slit the throats of the guards, disable the defenses, and open the doors from within. Before the city even realized its mistake, our army would be inside, turning their walls into a coffin."

Kaelith's gaze sharpened, listening intently.

"I also perfected the White Flag Technique. We'd send messengers carrying offers of surrender, waving white flags. The moment the enemy accepted, thinking they had won, we struck them down. There's nothing more foolish than trusting an enemy in war."

He leaned back, a glint of amusement flickering in his eyes. "But my favorite? Poison warfare."

Kaelith narrowed his eyes.

Malthor smirked. "We didn't just fight battles—we ended them before they even began. We poisoned wells, food supplies, even the very air inside enemy camps. I personally orchestrated the downfall of twenty cities with nothing but whispers and toxins. Kingdoms that stood for generations crumbled in months."

His voice grew lower, colder. "And that, boy, is why the king feared me."

Kaelith stayed silent.

Malthor's fingers tapped against the wooden table rhythmically, his tone turning mocking. "The king—the fool—started looking at me differently. The more victories I brought him, the more he feared me. Whispers in the court began, nobles murmuring that I had more power than the king himself."

He scoffed. "They weren't wrong. If I had wanted, I could have taken the throne myself."

Kaelith smirked. "But you didn't."

Malthor chuckled, shaking his head. "No, I didn't. I was loyal. That was my mistake."

His fingers clenched slightly, his nails pressing into the wood.

"One day, I woke up to an assassination attempt. My own soldiers turned against me. My men, my trusted aides, had been ordered to kill me in my sleep."

Kaelith's gaze darkened.

Malthor's smirk was cold. "It wasn't just paranoia. The king had secretly allied with our enemies. He thought I was too dangerous to keep around. He believed that if he handed me over to the enemy, they would let him live in peace."

His grip on the mug tightened. "The same king who once toasted to our victories… was now raising a glass to my execution."

Kaelith exhaled sharply. "What an idiot."

Malthor chuckled. "The worst kind of idiot—the kind who doesn't realize he's holding a double-edged blade." He glanced at the faded tattoo on his hand. "This mark? Once, it was a symbol of loyalty. It represented the king's most trusted advisor. But now?" His voice dipped into something bitter. "Now, it's just a scar from betrayal."

Kaelith remained silent, his mind processing the weight of the story.

Malthor leaned forward slightly, his smirk returning, though there was something sharper behind it. "So, boy, let me teach you a lesson. Loyalty is a dangerous thing. It blinds you, makes you weak, and in the end—"

He took a slow sip before finishing, his gaze gleaming with amusement and warning.

"It always meets a sad end."

KAELITH'S THOUGHTS: THE SLEEPING DRAGON

As Kaelith listened to Malthor's tale, he kept his expression neutral, but inside, his mind was racing.

"This old man… he's dangerous. Really dangerous."

Malthor wasn't just a scammer or a manipulator—he was something far beyond that. The way he spoke of deception, war, and betrayal wasn't just theory or strategy. It was experience. He had lived through it, shaped it, and used it to carve his way through history.

Kaelith recalled a rumor from his previous life, a whisper among high-level players and historians of Eldoria.

There had been a manipulator, a shadow figure, who had orchestrated the fall of the Sakura Kingdom. No one knew his name—only that he had once been the king's most trusted advisor. The story went that he had been betrayed, cast aside like garbage. And in response? He didn't just kill the king.

He destroyed the entire kingdom.

Kaelith's fingers twitched slightly under the table. Now, staring at the smirking old man before him, the pieces fell into place.

"It was him. This old man. He's the one who did it."

In his previous life, the fall of Sakura Kingdom had been a legend, a tale of revenge so brutal that it had left an impact even years later. The kingdom didn't just collapse—it was torn apart from within. Nobles turned on each other, armies rebelled, and in the end, the once-mighty king…

Was hung naked in the public square.

The image sent a chill down Kaelith's spine.

This wasn't just a manipulator. This was a monster in disguise.

And yet, here he was, sitting across from Kaelith, pretending to be nothing more than a sly merchant playing tricks on adventurers.

Kaelith lowered his gaze slightly, hiding the sharp glint in his eyes.

"He's a sleeping dragon… dressed like a sheep."

It was clear now—Malthor wasn't just lying low. He was waiting. Watching. For what? Kaelith didn't know. But one thing was certain.

"I must never—under any circumstances—get on his bad side."