The corridors of the imperial palace were more crowded than usual, not just with people, but with attention. It was something invisible, yet palpable, as if every glance, every whisper, and every step carried the same common theme, the same name repeated in different tones—curiosity, respect, fear, admiration. Kael Scarlet. Now not just a name. A title. A weight that spread throughout the world in a matter of days, like wildfire in a dry field, impossible to contain once started.
Two days.
That's all it took.
Two days since the declaration echoed, since every witch in existence heard it, since that information began to spread almost uncontrollably among kingdoms, cities, and villages. And now… there was no turning back. No more anonymity. No more silence.
Kael walked down that corridor with firm steps, but clearly less at ease than usual. It wasn't fear. It wasn't insecurity. It was unease. A specific kind of silent irritation that came from someone who simply… didn't ask for it.
