Emperor's harem: Transmigrated with SSS mana talent
Chapter 97: [We’ll see who hunts whom]

Chapter 97: [We’ll see who hunts whom]

Several days had passed.

The construction of the new Duke’s residence was nearly complete, its foundations strong and veiled in enchantments. Once it was livable, Kael and his companions moved in without ceremony.

General was focused on preparing the army, training soldiers with relentless discipline. The air around the barracks was thick with the rhythm of drills and the sharp ring of steel.

Nyra had relocated to the Church of the Night Goddess, where she had been appointed High Priestess.

Under Kael’s approval, the once solemn church was transformed into a full-fledged orphanage—its sacred halls now a refuge for the forgotten and abandoned.

Selene, meanwhile, was buried in legal work—duties that should have fallen to Kael but were instead conveniently handed off to her....

Estate papers, royal correspondence, land rights—she handled it all with quiet efficiency, though not without occasional muttering about her "useless Duke."

And Kael?

Each morning, he pushed himself relentlessly, mastering rank-3 spells with growing precision.

By night, he immersed himself in the Dream Realm, learning the elusive and sacred Dream Dance.

He had already invited Selene into the realm once, sharing the rank-3 spells with her.

***

Kael sipped his tea in silence, the steam curling gently in the morning light.

The newspaper lay open on the table before him, its headline grim:

Another Missing in Duskwither Forest.

His eyes lingered on the words before he sighed, folding the page with a tired motion.

He turned to the stack of letters beside him—most were routine.

A few bore the seal of the War God Temple.

Again.

He broke the first wax seal lazily. As expected, it was another summons—formal, insistent. They wanted him to reside within the temple walls, to "embrace his role" as their Chosen.

He tore it in half without a second thought.

Selene stood nearby, arms crossed.

"It’s not easy to reach anyone inside the War God Temple, Kael. You do realize that?"

Kael nodded slowly. "I do."

She had been searching for the final member of their organization Order Of Black Sigil, but the temple’s iron grip on its inner disciples made recruitment nearly impossible.

Had it not been for his title—Duke—they might have dragged him back already.

He sighed again, setting the ruined letter aside.

But then his gaze shifted to another envelope, half-buried under the rest.

Black wax. A serpent coiled in a circle.

He froze.

Then, his lips curled into a rare, knowing smile.

Finally, he thought.

He unfolded the parchment, expecting what he knew would be there.

Nothing.

The page stared back at him, blank and cold.

Selene tilted her head, a faint crease forming between her brows.

"Empty?"

Kael didn’t speak. He simply raised his hand.

From beneath the skin of his forearm, the mark stirred—black ink threading upward like smoke drawn to breath.

The symbol of the Veiled Serpent shimmered into view, wrapping itself around his wrist like a living brand.

As it pulsed once, the letter changed.

Dark lines bled onto the page, slow and deliberate, as if the parchment remembered something ancient.

Letters formed—crooked, curling like scaled flesh, each word etched in silence.

Selene took a step back.

Kael’s expression turned hard as he read.

***

Vitalis Eiden Ravencourt.

His father was the headmaster of the Royal Academy in our empire.

He came from the Vitalis clan, blessed by the god of life himself.

The Vitalis bloodline was known for terrifying strength — enhancing physical might and endurance.

And now, he was coming — not alone— to our kingdom.

Their mission: to erase the one bearing the Godbreaker’s Mark.

The one they called the devil.

***

Kael first smiled—slowly.

The corner of his lips curled, almost imperceptibly at first, before the expression stretched wider.

Then, he laughed.

"HAHHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

It echoed, sharp and raw in the stillness.

Yue had arrived. She stood a few paces away, her gaze steady.

Selene was beside her, both women staring at him now—silent, watchful.

Kael’s laughter faded.

What a joke, he thought.

You want to kill me?

Me?

His smile returned, quieter this time.

He let out a breath, almost a sigh, as if the weight of their intentions had become a trivial thing.

Let them come, he thought, eyes narrowing.

We’ll see who hunts whom.

From the corner of his ear, Kael heard them.

Yue’s voice, low but clear.

"What happened to him?"

Selene answered with mock confusion,

"No idea. He just... started laughing like a madman."

Yue hummed. "I’m getting used to it now."

Kael’s smile froze.

A slow, creeping heat touched his face. Embarrassment.

He turned, sharp but composed.

"You know," he said, "if you’re both done giving commentary like a pair of tavern drunks, maybe try saying it to my face next time."

Selene shrugged, feigning innocence. "We thought we were."

Yue gave him a faint smirk.

"Honestly, Kael, we were worried you’d finally snapped.

But this is just... normal now."

Kael sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Great"

Selene was about to reply, a faint smirk still lingering on her lips, when a voice called from just beyond the chamber doors.

"My lord Duke... some people are here to see you. They’re waiting in the main hall."

Kael’s gaze snapped toward the door. His voice cut through the silence, sharp and cold.

"Why have you let them into the house?"

There was a pause.

The maid’s voice came again—lower this time, laced with fear.

"They said... they’re from the Royal Academy. And the princess is with them."

A silence fell over the room.

Kael’s brow rose slightly.

His jaw tensed.

He cursed inwardly, eyes dropping to the letter.

He had already guessed who had come.

Selene’s amusement vanished.

She straightened, her expression turning still.

Yue, standing beside her, narrowed her eyes faintly.

Both sensed the change in the air.

Kael didn’t speak.

He stepped toward the small side table, held the letter over a candle’s flame, and watched as it caught.

The wax melted, the parchment curled inward, blackened, then crumbled into ash.

Without a word, he turned and disappeared into his chambers.

The minutes that followed were quiet.

Then Kael returned—cloaked in formal attire.

Dark velvet lined with silver trim, the crest of House Drenlor glinting against his chest. His hair tied back, boots polished, blade at his side.

His face was composed.

Cold. Regal.

He paused at the threshold, eyes sharp, unreadable.

"Let’s not keep them waiting."

And with that, he walked toward the hall—each step measured, as if going to war.