Eldritch Assassin: Reincarnated With An SSS-Rank Devouring System
Chapter 39: House Veyne

Chapter 39: House Veyne

The carriage rattled along the uneven road, its wheels creaking under the weight of travel. Moonlight filtered through the dense canopy of Wolfswood, casting spotted shadows on the worn leather seats.

Kael sat with a book he had purchased from a public bookstore open on his lap, its pages yellowed, detailing the storied history of House Veyne.

The words painted a vivid picture: a house of warrior-strategists, their "Wolf-Blooded" moniker earned through relentless swordsmanship and martial techniques. Victories in the Mistfen War, heavy losses in the Ironwind War, and betrayals that fractured their unity.

Now, House Veyne clung to its rugged County of Wolfswood, a land of wolf-haunted forests and rich runestone quarries, beset by rivals like House Valthorne, Brightvale, and Valcroft.

Sera sat across from him, her bow resting against her knee and her eyes fixed on the passing trees. Her face was still, but her fingers traced the scorched wood of her bow, a silent attachment to Mira.

The carriage slowed down and the driver’s voice called out as they approached a massive iron gate. Its surface was etched with wolf motifs. Kael closed the book, tucked it into his cloak, and adjusted the Abyssal Fang Dagger at his hip.

The carriage stopped, the horses snorting softly.

Kael stepped down first, his boots crunching on gravel. He offered Sera a hand, her grip firm but her movements weary from the two days ride. The gate loomed before them, flanked by stone wolves with glowing runestone eyes.

Two guards in Veyne livery—dark green tunics with silver wolf crests—approached with their spears raised. Their stern faces softened as Kael pushed back his hood, his silver eyes catching the torchlight.

"Young Master Kael!" one guard exclaimed, his spear lowering. "Welcome home!"

The second guard grinned, clapping a fist to his chest. "We thought you were still in the dungeons!" He turned, barking orders to a nearby maid. "Fetch Lady Mirene and Lady Sylvara! The second young master’s back!"

Kael nodded, his expression calm but his eyes scanning the estate’s walls, noting the fresh repairs and the extra sentries. Wolfswood’s dangers which were mostly raids from the Dravalia Kingdom and spies from House Valcroft—were never far.

He glanced at Sera, her hood still up as she stood with a tense posture. "Take her to a guest room," he told a young maid with braided hair, her apron crisp despite the late hour. "Make sure she’s comfortable."

The maid curtsied, her eyes flicking curiously to Sera. "This way, miss," she said, gesturing toward the main house. Sera hesitated, her gaze meeting Kael’s. He gave a small nod, and she followed the maid with her bow clutched tightly.

Kael turned toward the inner courtyard, his boots echoing on the cobblestone path. The Veyne Mansion rose before him, its stone walls weathered but proud, adorned with ivy and wolf carvings. Torches flickered along the path, their light dancing on the runestones embedded in the ground.

The air both outside and within the estate carried the faint howl of wolves, a reminder of the house’s bond with the creatures of Wolfswood.

The courtyard was quiet, save for the soft ripple of a fountain shaped like a leaping wolf. Lady Mirene stood near it, her silver hair catching the moonlight, and her dark green gown flowing like liquid shadow.

At forty-three, she looked a decade younger, her sharp features softened by the glow of a lunar rune hovering above her palm. Her eyes, which were a piercing blue, locked onto Kael as he approached, a mix of relief and scrutiny in her gaze.

Behind her, Sylvara peeked out, her thirteen-year-old frame small but vibrant, her auburn hair tied back, and her green eyes wide with excitement.

"Kael!" Sylvara darted forward, her bare feet slapping the stone. She threw her arms around him, her hug fierce despite her slight build. "You’re back! I knew you’d make it!"

Kael’s lips twitched into a rare smile, his hand resting on her head. "Told you I’m hard to kill," he said, his voice low but warm. Sylvara pulled back, her eyes scanning his torn cloak and the faint scars on his hands. Her smile faltered, but she didn’t press.

Lady Mirene approached, the lunar rune fading as she clasped her hands. "You’ve been gone for too long, it’s been two weeks now." she said, her voice smooth but edged with concern. "The dungeons... they’ve changed you." Her gaze flicked to his cloak as if sensing the knives hidden within. "What did you find?"

Kael met her eyes, his expression unreadable. "Answers. And trouble." He didn’t elaborate, his tone making it clear he’d share more later.

Lady Mirene’s lips pursed, but she nodded, her cunning mind already piecing together what he left unsaid.

Sylvara tugged at Kael’s sleeve, her voice eager. "Did you see any wolves? Or fight ugly monsters? Tell me-tell me!" Her enthusiasm was infectious, but her eyes held a flicker of worry, glancing toward the mansion’s upper windows where their brother Torren’s quarters lay.

Kael chuckled softly, crouching to her level. "Fought something worse than ugly monsters. But the wolves? They’re all over Wolfswood, you know." He tapped her nose, earning a giggle. "You’ll talk to them soon, won’t you?"

Sylvara’s cheeks flushed, her gift for communing with wolf spirits was a secret she hadn’t fully grasped and was only known by Kael. "Maybe," she mumbled, her eyes bright.

Lady Mirene’s gaze softened at their close interaction, but her voice grew firm. "Inside, both of you. The night’s cold and Wolfswood’s not safe after dark." She turned, leading the way, her gown trailing like a shadow.

Kael followed, Sylvara at his side, her chatter filling the silence with tales of her lunar alchemy lessons and a wolf pup she’d began caring for a few weeks prior.

The mansion’s halls were warm, lit by runestone lanterns that cast a soft blue glow. Murals of past Veyne victories—wolves charging into battle, warriors wielding primal energy—lined the walls, a reminder of the house’s glory days.

Lady Mirene paused at a heavy oak door, her hand on the wolf-shaped handle. "Your friend," she said, her tone neutral but probing. "Who is she?"

"Sera," Kael replied, his voice steady. "An archer. Lost her sister to Valcroft’s men. She’s my Knight now."

Lady Mirene’s brow arched, her diplomat’s mind weighing his words. "A bold choice. Loyal, I hope?"

"Loyal enough," Kael said, his silver eyes meeting hers. "She’s got great potential. We’ll need it."

Lady Mirene nodded, pushing the door open to her study, a room lined with books and alchemical tools, a lunar rune glowing faintly above a desk. "We’ll talk more tomorrow," she said, her voice low. "Valthorne’s pressing for more tributes, and Brightvale’s undercutting our military contracts. We can’t afford mistakes from any side."

Kael’s jaw tightened, the names stirring old anger. House Valthorne was one of the three duchies in the Valoria Kingdom. A greedy lot. The Valcroft’s schemes, and Brightvale’s betrayal were also thorns in Veyne’s side.

"We’ll get through this," he said, his tone cold but certain.

Sylvara lingered in the doorway, her eyes wide. "You’ll stay, right, Kael? Not go back to the dungeons?"

Kael knelt, his hand on her shoulder. "I’m here, Syl. For now." His voice softened, but his eyes flicked to Mirene, a silent promise to protect what remained of their house.

Lady Mirene’s lips curved slightly, a rare smile blooming on her face. This matured version of her son was more pleasing to the eyes. "Rest well, Kael. Wolfswood needs you whole." She turned, the lunar rune flaring as she began her nightly rituals.

Kael stood, guiding Sylvara toward her room amidst the howling of wolves in the distance.

***

The soft glow of runestone lanterns bathed Sylvara’s room in a gentle blue hue, casting shadows of wolf carvings across the walls.

Kael sat on the edge of her bed, his voice low as he recounted his dungeon trials, which were carefully edited, of course, to spare her the bloodier details.

Sylvara listened, her big green eyes wide open, clutching a small wolf figurine as she hung on every word. Her questions came fast—about the monsters, the portals, the Gatekeeper’s voice—but soon enough, her yawns grew longer and her eyelids heavier.

When her head finally slumped against the pillow, Kael tucked the blanket around her, his silver eyes softening. He stood quietly, slipping out as her soft snores filled the room.

Kael’s own chamber was down the hall, its heavy oak door creaking as he entered. The room was sparse but familiar, unlike what you would expect from a noble scion—a large bed, a wooden desk, and a single window overlooking Wolfswood’s dark forest.

A basin of water sat on the desk, steam curling faintly from its surface. Kael locked the door, his movements deliberate, the weight of the day pressing on his shoulders. He peeled off his tattered cloak, wincing as the dried blood on his tunic tugged at his healing wounds.

The Abyssal Fang Dagger and obsidian knives clinked softly as he set them on the desk, their poison dormant but ever-present.

He splashed water on his face, the cold biting his skin, washing away the grime of a two-day travel. His reflection in the small mirror showed a face similar but younger than his past life’s self—silver eyes flecked with crimson and neck-long night-black hair.

He dried his hands, his mind turning to the rewards he’d earned. Sitting on the bed, he summoned the system’s interface with a thought.

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