Forge Of Fate: A Blacksmiths Journey

The forge crackled with embers, the rhythmic sound of metal cooling filling the silence between them. The air smelled of steel, oil, and tension. Kalem's forge had become more than just a workspace—it was now a war room, a neutral ground where plans were made, and fates were decided.

Kalem leaned against his workbench, sharpening a dagger with slow, deliberate strokes. Jhaeros stood near the entrance, arms crossed, eyes scanning the dimly lit room. Nara sat on an overturned crate, her fingers idly tracing the edges of her gauntlets, still seething from the ambush earlier. Lyra, uncharacteristically quiet, sat near the shelves of alchemical ingredients, absently rolling a small vial between her fingers.

And then there was Isolde—half-sitting, half-lounging on a spare anvil, her ice-blue eyes cool yet calculating as she watched Kalem work.

The silence was thick.

Finally, Jhaeros spoke. "We need to piece together what's happening before we start losing more people."

Kalem set the dagger down. "It's not one group," he said simply.

Garrick frowned. "What do you mean?"

Kalem slid a folded parchment across the table. "Tavrin did some digging. The assassins aren't working for a single faction. It only looks that way."

Lyra stiffened. "You're saying...?"

"There are multiple groups," Kalem explained. "Different factions, backing different killers, targeting different people. But they're deliberately making it seem like they're all connected—wearing similar outfits, using similar methods—so no one can trace who's behind which attack."

Nara exhaled sharply. "So it's chaos for the sake of chaos?"

"More like controlled chaos," Isolde corrected, picking up the parchment. "It's a smokescreen. If everyone thinks a single entity is pulling the strings, they'll waste time chasing a ghost instead of the real culprits."

Jhaeros grunted. "That means some of the groups could even be rivals."

Kalem nodded. "Exactly. And that's something we can use."

A beat of silence passed as the weight of the revelation settled over them. This wasn't just a single assassin's guild or a rogue noble house causing trouble. This was a coordinated bloodbath, with each faction using the chaos to settle their own scores.

Isolde sighed and tossed the parchment back onto the table. "Then there's another problem," she said. "Both of us are on the list."

Lyra's head snapped up. "What?"

Kalem didn't react. He had expected as much.

"After the tournament," Isolde continued, "both Kalem and I made certain enemies."

Garrick furrowed his brows. "But it was a draw, wasn't it?"

"A technical draw," Isolde corrected. "But we both came out of it with prizes people would kill for." She smirked, but there was no humor in her eyes. "I got a Frost Catalyst. A rare, high-grade mana artifact. Worth a fortune to the right people."

Kalem ran a hand over his blade. "And I have the resonance sword."

Nara muttered a curse. "So you're both walking targets."

"More than usual," Jhaeros murmured.

"That explains the precision," Lyra added. "They're not just targeting random students. They're picking off anyone with value. If they can't kill you, they'll find a way to take what's yours."

Kalem folded his arms. "That means the Blood Nights won't stop anytime soon. As long as there's profit to be made, more assassins will come."

Isolde tilted her head. "Which raises the question—what do we do about it?"

The forge remained silent for a moment before Kalem finally spoke.

"We use it against them."

Garrick raised a brow. "How?"

"If they want the catalyst and the sword," Kalem said, "then we make them think they have a chance to get it."

Jhaeros smirked. "A trap?"

"A layered one," Kalem confirmed. "If different factions are involved, then we can turn them against each other. Get them competing for the same prize."

Nara grinned. "Let them tear each other apart."

Lyra frowned. "That's risky."

"Everything is risky at this point," Isolde said, standing up. "But it's better than waiting for another ambush."

Kalem nodded. "We don't need to fight all of them. We just need to make them fight each other."

Garrick exhaled. "And if that fails?"

Kalem's hand rested on the hilt of his short sword. "Then I start collecting heads myself."

The forge's embers crackled, casting long shadows across the walls. The city outside remained restless, unaware of the storm that was about to unfold.

The Blood Nights weren't over.

But soon, they would no longer be one-sided.