Chapter 28: When Lord Kryon Faces His Mastermind

**Kryon’s Palace**

Far from the almost peaceful atmosphere that had settled between Evelyn and Vykhor, a completely different tension weighed heavily over Lord Kryon’s palace. In a dimly lit hall adorned with dusty, richly woven tapestries, the tyrant found himself facing the envoy of a man he feared more than anything. The power Kryon held, the terror he instilled in his subjects—all of it seemed to vanish in the presence of this emissary.

The man, his face hidden under a dark hood, embodied the authority of a master Kryon dared not defy. It was this unknown figure, a being whose name or face Kryon had never seen, who had enabled him to conquer Drakar IV. In return, the man demanded results, spectacular victories. And above all, he wanted Evelyn Ashcroft. The significance of this woman far exceeded Vykhor’s mission or the rebels' uprising. She represented something much greater, something this elusive figure coveted.

Kryon still recalled the manipulations he had orchestrated to lure Vykhor Kael’seth here. It had required a delicate dance of rumors, whispers carefully spread so that the Kael’tarien’s name would surface as the only one capable of challenging his brutal reign. He had subtly influenced the rebels, pushing them in that direction without them suspecting a thing. Yes, that part of the plan had been executed flawlessly.

But despite everything, the game was slipping through his fingers. Kharok, his planted spy, was now in the rebels’ hands, and Evelyn Ashcroft remained under Vykhor’s protection, guarded with a ferocity Kryon hadn’t anticipated. This complicated things beyond what he had planned. Kryon’s puppets—soldiers who blindly carried out his commands—wouldn’t be enough to fix this mistake.

The envoy, cloaked in a long cape that brushed the ground, stepped forward with a menacing stride, his leather boots creaking softly. His voice, icy and unforgiving, broke the silence of the room. “You know that the one who sent me doesn’t tolerate failure, Kryon,” he declared, each syllable landing heavily like a sentence.

Kryon felt his muscles tense, a cold sweat running down his neck. This man was terrifying, not because he carried weapons or commanded an army, but because he represented the will of an invisible master who controlled everything. Kryon, the bloodthirsty dictator who made thousands tremble, was, in reality, nothing more than a puppet dancing on another’s strings. And that fact, this constant reminder of his servitude, drove him to madness and fear.

“I understand,” Kryon replied, his voice trembling slightly despite his efforts to maintain a facade of calm. “But the situation is more complicated than expected. Kael’seth protects Evelyn as if she’s a priceless treasure, and... and the rebels are becoming increasingly unpredictable.”

The envoy seemed unimpressed. His piercing eyes, hidden in the shadow of his hood, glinted with a cold light. “You’ve had resources, means, and yet you’re letting this situation spiral out of control. Find a solution, Kryon, or the one who sent me will find someone more competent to take over. And you know what that would mean.”

Kryon’s heart clenched, his anger mingling with a gnawing fear. He was powerful here on Drakar IV, but in front of this stranger pulling the strings, he was nothing. A mere puppet, yes, but one that was beginning to wonder how long it had before those strings were cut.

**The Rebel Camp**

The morning after Kharok’s betrayal and the resulting tension, Vykhor and Colonel Janis Voren decided it was time to get some answers. Kharok, restrained and closely guarded by two armed rebels, was escorted to a small tent on the outskirts of the camp, which had been converted into an interrogation room. The atmosphere inside was heavy, the silence oppressive, broken only by the clinking of chains as Kharok settled onto a metal chair, defiance in his eyes.

Vykhor entered first, followed closely by Voren, whose face bore the marks of fatigue and a cold, simmering anger. Kharok seemed unfazed, his expression full of arrogance, immediately ratcheting up the tension in the tent.

“Kharok,” Voren began icily, standing before the traitor, “you’re going to tell us exactly why you decided to betray those who trusted you. And believe me, you’d better be honest.”

Kharok smirked, a bitter grin spreading across his lips. “You want to know why?” He shook his head, as if the question itself was absurd. “For the money, of course. Lord Kryon pays well, better than you ever could.”

Vykhor stood back, arms crossed, observing Kharok’s every move and word. He could feel the rage simmering inside him, but he knew he had to stay calm and rational. Kharok wasn’t just a simple traitor driven by greed. There was something more.

“But it’s not just about the money, is it?” Vykhor questioned, his voice deep and steady.

Kharok turned to him, his grin widening. “No, it’s not just about the money. It’s also because I can’t stand seeing such a fragile, useless human getting so much attention.”

Vykhor straightened slightly, his gaze sharpening. “You’re talking about Evelyn.”

“Of course I’m talking about her,” Kharok spat, his tone dripping with disdain. “What has she done to deserve her place here? She’s just a human, a weak creature with nothing to offer in this world. And you, Vykhor, you’re so blinded by... I don’t even know what, that you protect her like she has any worth.”

Vykhor felt his anger rising, every word from Kharok stoking the fire he was trying to keep under control. But outwardly, he remained impassive, his face a mask of stone. He knew he couldn’t let himself be provoked, not now.

“Evelyn has already proven her worth,” he replied coldly, his eyes never leaving Kharok’s. “And she’ll do it again.”

Kharok laughed, the sound bitter and mocking. “You’re wrong, Vykhor. She’s nothing. Lord Kryon knows she’s just a tool. A tool to break you all. By the time you realize your mistake, it’ll be too late.”

Voren, who had been silently watching until now, stepped forward, his face hard with determination. “Kryon paid you to betray us. But believe me, you’ll pay dearly for what you’ve done.”

Kharok didn’t respond, just stared at Vykhor with a hateful glare. “Don’t let that human distract you, Vykhor. She’ll bring you down. The weak have no place in this world.”

Vykhor clenched his fists, every fiber of his being fighting to remain calm. Evelyn wasn’t weak. Far from it. She proved her value every day with her intelligence, determination, and courage. He knew deep down that she would continue to surprise everyone, that her potential went beyond anything Kharok could comprehend. But more than that, Evelyn had become important to him, more than he’d ever imagined.

He leaned in slightly, his icy gaze locked onto Kharok’s. “Evelyn is stronger than you’ll ever understand. You sold your soul for money, but she has something you’ll never have: a brilliant mind and the courage to fight for those she cares about.”

Kharok opened his mouth to respond, but Voren slammed his hand on the table, cutting him off. “Enough.” His voice echoed in the tent, ending the exchange. “Kharok, you’ll be tried for treason by the rebels. We’ll decide your fate.”

The guards stepped forward to escort Kharok out, the traitor casting one last disdainful glare at Vykhor before being led away in chains.

Once alone with Vykhor, Voren turned to him, his expression softening with silent respect. “You’ve got a solid team, Vykhor. But the road ahead is long, and this won’t be the last time someone tries to divide you.”

Vykhor nodded slowly. “I know. But as long as we stand together, they won’t break us.” He turned to leave. “And I won’t let anyone harm Evelyn.”

Voren watched him go, reflecting on those last words. He saw in Vykhor a leader, a man of principles, but also someone who, despite his dark past, had found a new reason to fight. Evelyn, the young woman who had already proven she wasn’t just some fragile human, had clearly become that reason.

Vykhor stepped out into the rebel camp, his mind racing. Kharok’s words still echoed in his head, but he pushed them aside with determination. Evelyn wasn’t a burden or a liability. She was an ally, a partner, and more than that, she had become someone essential to him. And he would make sure no one underestimated her or hurt her as long as he was around.

Walking confidently through the camp, Vykhor’s steps slowed when he spotted Evelyn. She was sitting on a fallen log, surrounded by Skye and Rax. The golden sunlight illuminated her as she animatedly explained a complex detail about manipulating Kryon’s defense systems.

“...and if we redirect the energy to the secondary emitters, we could create a surge strong enough to fry the entire surveillance network,” she said, her eyes shining with excitement and intelligence. Skye nodded, clearly impressed, a mischievous smile playing on her lips.

“Well, I’ve got to admit, Evelyn,” Skye said, crossing her arms, “I didn’t think you’d have so many tricks up your sleeve. That’s genius.”

Rax, who had always been the most skeptical, couldn’t help but crack a grin. “You’re full of surprises, Ashcroft,” he added. “Almost makes you seem like a real mercenary.” His tone was teasing, but this time it was a genuine compliment, even if wrapped in sarcasm.

Vykhor approached, his face as impassive as ever, but inside, he felt a wave of pride seeing her. Evelyn, the one he’d wanted to protect and keep close, was finding her place in this harsh, dangerous world with a strength he admired. She was no longer just the fragile intellectual he had once known but a respected ally, someone his battle-hardened companions were beginning to accept.

He didn’t let anything show, but his heart swelled with satisfaction. Evelyn was his partner, his equal in this journey, and watching her build strong connections with Skye and Rax only reinforced the belief that she belonged in this world—and with him.

He walked up to her, placing a hand on her shoulder, his grip firm but gentle. “You keep impressing everyone,” he said, his voice calm but full of respect. Evelyn looked up at him, her radiant smile lighting up her face, and Vykhor knew that, even if he didn’t say it, she understood just how proud he was of her.