Eldritch Assassin: Reincarnated With An SSS-Rank Devouring System
Chapter 41: Breakfast

Chapter 41: Breakfast

The morning sun filtered through the tall windows of the Veyne Mansion’s dining hall, casting golden streaks across the polished oak table. The scent of fresh bread, smoked fish, and spiced tea filled the air, mingling with the faint howl of wolves echoing from Wolfswood.

Lady Mirene sat at the head, her silver hair neatly braided, her green gown simple but elegant. Sylvara perched to her right, nibbling on a pastry, her auburn hair loose and her wolf figurine tucked beside her plate.

Torren, the eldest, lounged to Lady Mirene’s left, his dark hair swept back, his sword resting against his chair, its hilt gleaming with runestone inlays.

Kael descended the stairs, his new Bloodthread Mantle worn over his shoulders, its dark fabric blending with his tunic.

His silver eyes scanned the room, noting the absence of Sera as she might have been exhausted and needed ample rest. He also caught Torren’s casual posture and his mom’s sharp glance.

He took a seat across from Sylvara, his movements quiet, the Abyssal Fang Dagger hidden in his cloak. A maid set a plate before him—bread, fish, and a steaming cup of tea. He nodded his thanks, picking up a piece of bread and tearing it slowly.

Lady Mirene’s voice broke the quiet, her tone warm but probing. "You slept well, Kael? Wolfswood’s nights can be restless."

Kael met her gaze, his expression calm. "Well, enough. The wolves didn’t bother me." His eyes flicked to Sylvara, who grinned, crumbs on her cheek.

"They were loud!" Sylvara said, her voice bright. "I think they missed you. Did you hear the big one? He howled forever!"

Kael chuckled, brushing a crumb from her chin. "Heard him. Probably just saying hello." Sylvara giggled, her eyes sparkling, and reached for another pastry.

Torren leaned forward, his smile polite but his eyes sharp. "So, brother," he said, his voice smooth, "how was your little adventure in that ’F-Rank’ dungeon?" The emphasis on "F-Rank" was subtle, a jab meant for Kael alone, laced with mockery. His fingers drummed lightly on the table, his sword’s hilt glinting as he shifted.

Kael’s hand paused mid-bite, his silver eyes meeting Torren’s without a flicker of anger. He chewed slowly, swallowing before answering. "Cleared it," he said, his tone even. "Beat some tough ones, too. Even your good friend Dorian Valcroft." His lips curved into a faint smirk, his words deliberate, aimed to sting.

Torren’s smile froze, his fingers stilling. His eyes narrowed, a flicker of shock passing through them before he masked it with a laugh. "Dorian Valcroft?" he said, his voice light but strained. "You must be mistaken, Kael. I’d never associate with Shadowfen’s snakes." He glanced at his mom, whose stern gaze had shifted to him, her lunar rune pendant glowing faintly at her throat.

Lady Mirene’s voice was cool, her eyes piercing. "Torren, you’ve been careful with your alliances, I trust?" Her words were a question but carried the weight of a command.

Torren’s smile tightened, his hand resting on his cup. "Of course, Mother. House Veyne’s enemies are mine. Kael’s got the wrong information." He shot Kael a look, his eyes promising retaliation.

Kael leaned back, his smirk widening. "Oh, my mistake then," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He sipped his tea, his gaze never leaving Torren’s. The air between them crackled, but neither pushed further, not with their mom watching.

Sylvara, oblivious to the tension, piped up. "Kael, tell us about the dungeon! Did you fight a dragon?" Her eyes were wide, her pastry temporarily forgotten.

Kael’s expression softened, his focus shifting to her. "No dragons, Syl. Just shadowy creatures and fellow adventurers. Got a new cloak, though." He tugged at the Bloodthread Mantle, its dark fabric catching the light.

Sylvara gasped, leaning forward. "It’s so cool! Does it make you invisible?"

Kael chuckled. "Not quite. But it helps me with something equally important." He winked, earning a giggle.

Lady Mirene’s lips curved slightly, her gaze softening as she watched them, though her fingers tightened around her cup.

The meal continued, the clink of cutlery and soft chatter filling the hall. Torren ate in silence, his earlier charm replaced by a guarded posture, his eyes flicking to Kael now and then.

Lady Mirene steered the conversation to Wolfswood’s defenses, her voice calm but laced with urgency. "The runestone quarry needs more guards," she said. "House Valthorne’s scouts were spotted near the mines again."

Kael nodded, his mind turning to House Valthorne’s greed. "I’ll check the patrols later," he said, his tone firm. "We can’t let them push us around without doing anything."

Torren’s voice cut in, smooth but edged. "I’ve already reinforced the eastern forts. No need to trouble yourself, brother." His smile was thin, a challenge in his eyes.

Kael met his gaze, unyielding. "Good. I’ll check them anyway." The words were polite, but the undercurrent was clear. Torren’s jaw twitched, but he said nothing.

Sylvara finished her meal, hopping up from her chair. "I’m going to see the wolf pups!" she announced, brushing crumbs from her dress. A maid appeared, her smile warm, and Sylvara darted off, her laughter echoing as she left the hall.

The mood shifted, the air heavier without her chatter. Kael set his cup down, his voice low. "Mother, where’s Father? Haven’t seen him since I got back."

Lady Mirene’s fingers stilled her lunar rune pendant dimming. She took a slow breath, her eyes meeting his. "Darius is at the northern border," she said, her voice steady but tight. "House Valthorne ordered him to lead a four-thousand-man army against Dravalia. The Ironwind War’s dragging on—three years now. Dravalia’s wyrm-riders burned another outpost last month."

Kael’s brows furrowed, the name Dravalia stirring little memories of his book’s details. The Kingdom of Dravalia, ranked twelfth in the Aurelian Empire, was a volcanic land of wyrm-riders and fire relics.

Compared to their Valoria Kingdom ranked twenty-fifth in the Aurelian Empire, they were much more powerful all-round.

Their claim over Ironvale’s borderlands had sparked the war, fueled by House Valthorne’s refusal to cede ground. "How long’s he been gone?" Kael asked, his tone clipped.

"Six months," Lady Mirene replied, her gaze distant. "House Valthorne’s leaning on him hard, hoping to weaken our house further in his absence. If he fails in battle, they’ll demand more tributes—or worse, our lands." Her voice hardened, her diplomat’s mask slipping for the briefest of moments to reveal the fear beneath.

Torren leaned forward, his voice smooth but opportunistic. "Father’s handling it. He’s the Wolf-Blooded general, after all. Dravalia’s wyrms won’t break him." His eyes flicked to Kael, a subtle challenge. "You’d do well to focus on Wolfswood, brother. Leave the war to those who know it."

Kael’s silver eyes gleamed, his smirk returning. "I’ll focus where I’m needed, Torren. Always do." The words were calm, but the edge was unmistakable. Torren’s smile faltered, his hand clenching into a fist.

Lady Mirene’s gaze snapped between them, her voice sharp. "Enough. Wolfswood needs both of you—united, not at each other’s throats." She stood, her gown rustling, the lunar rune flaring briefly. "Kael, check the quarry patrols. Torren, I want a report on the eastern forts by noon. We don’t have time for childish games."

Torren nodded, his expression neutral but his eyes burning. "Of course, Mother." He rose, his sword clinking as he slung it over his shoulder, and strode out, his steps deliberate.

Kael stood, his Bloodthread Mantle settling around him. "I’ll handle the patrols," he said, his tone calm but firm. He glanced at his mom, catching the worry in her eyes. "We’ll hold Wolfswood. No matter what."

Lady Mirene nodded, her lips tight. "See that you do," she said, turning toward her study, the weight of her role as matriarch clear in her posture.

Kael left the hall, his boots echoing on the stone floor. The wolves howled outside, their song a reminder of the challenges ahead.