Saelkor cleared his throat. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, a rare display of unease. "My lord," he said.

Varon looked at him. "Speak."

Saelkor hesitated for a moment. "I ask your permission first. What I’m about to say may not sit well."

Varon nodded. "Go ahead, Saelkor."

Saelkor chose his words carefully. "The Wanderer Witch...I know her kind. They do nothing willingly without first naming a price. Something that cannot be bought with gold. I have seen men bargain with wanderer witches, and it rarely ends well for them."

Varon’s lips curved into a faint smile. "I know. The price has already been paid. A long time ago."

There was no hesitation in his voice—no sign of doubt. Varon pulled out a chair from the table and sat down. With a gesture of his hand, he indicated for Saelkor to do the same. The general moved to the chair across from him and sat, his back straight and hands resting on the table.

Varon looked at him for a long moment. "Do I look admirable to you?"

The question caught Saelkor off guard. He blinked, then answered carefully. "Yes, my lord."

Varon raised an eyebrow slightly. "As your lord?"

Saelkor nodded. "Yes. As my lord. You are the reason I stand where I am today. I would not have become General of the Black Mambas if you had not favored me. You gave me purpose when I had nothing."

Varon nodded slowly. "Lowborns can be more than what the world allows. They can be special too, like the nobles. That is what I have always believed." He said.

He leaned back in his chair, his eyes fixed on a point somewhere beyond the stone wall.

"My life didn’t start like this. Growing up was not easy for me. I was not born to nobility. No title. No power. No choice."

He paused briefly, as if deciding how much to say, then continued.

"My father owned a small farmhouse. That was all we had. He was hardworking but not particularly clever. He was fond of borrowing money he could not repay."

Saelkor’s expression tightened slightly. He did not interrupt.

"One of the creditors came to our farmhouse one morning, and my father had nothing to give: no crop, no livestock, no coin. So the creditor took me. He said a healthy boy was as good as gold."

There was a short pause.

"He sold me to a slave trader within the week. At that time, a black market was operating across the realm—a hidden trade. Nobles would gather in secret to buy slaves. The Queen knew nothing of it. Or if she did, she chose not to see. The markets moved locations every few months to avoid attention. That was where I was sold. That was where I met my old lord."

Varon paused, his jaw tightening for a moment before relaxing. "He was one of the Queen’s advisors. A man of influence. In his house, I served as a servant. He had a preference for young boys. He liked to hurt them. He enjoyed control. He created rules no one could question. I never saw a girl in that house cause he said they were bothersome, too much trouble to keep."

Varon’s gaze dropped to the table. He ran his thumb along the edge of the table. "Oh! I wished the world would end cause every day was the same. You obeyed. Or you suffered. The lord had fantasies—strange and crazy ones. One time, a boy tried to escape. The lord had his manhood chopped off and then fed it to the hounds. Right there in the hall with the rest of us watching.

The silence that followed was heavy.

"Anyone who tried to escape lost a part of their body. If they were caught again, they were fed to the hounds in the dungeons. That was the lord’s preferred method. He liked to hear them scream."

Varon toyed with the gold ring on his middle finger, his expression unreadable.

"I learned quickly that there was no way out, not for someone like us. Lowborn. No name. No protection. Nobles had the upper hand. They always did."

Saelkor met his gaze but said nothing.

"I was diligent in my work. I learned to do the things he liked—all of it. I anticipated what he wanted. The lord noticed I was always eager to play the role he wanted me to play. He liked me." His voice was steady, controlled. "Years passed, then he began to trust me. He gave me responsibilities. Small at first, then more. I gained his favor more than any other servant in that house."

"Is that how you earned your freedom?" Saelkor asked.

Varon let out a scoff. A very short and bitter sound. "Freedom?" He repeated. "The lord of that house never knew the word freedom. He did not believe in it. Not for people like us." He shook his head, his gaze falling back on his ring. "I killed him to earn my freedom."

Saelkor went still.

"Though it was not easy. The lord was careful. Always surrounded by guards. But eventually he made a mistake." He tapped his fingers lightly on the table. "The mistake of making me an overseer of everything he owned. He trusted a lowborn with too much."

Saelkor understood. "And that gave you access," he said.

Varon nodded. "Yes. But I didn’t kill him for power. I did it because I couldn’t watch his cruelty anymore."

He paused.

"He had butchered a six-year-old boy for stealing a stale bread. That innocent soul." Varon’s jaw tightened slightly. "That was the moment I ended it. A scentless poison did the job."

Varon let out a hiss. "Afterward, I gathered every piece of evidence I had against him. Records of what he had been doing over the years. Letters. Testimony from the other servants. I presented it all to the Queen."

Saelkor raised an eyebrow slightly. "She listened?" he asked.

Varon laughed. "A funny scene, I tell you. A lowborn requesting to see the Queen of Lycanthria. She had no choice. The evidence was too clear. Too detailed. The lord was declared guilty even in death." He folded his arms. "That earned me a title in the court."

He paused.

"The Queen commended my courage. She thanked me for saving lives. Plus, I inherited my lord’s fortune. And that was how I became Elder Varon."

Saelkor sat back, processing everything. For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then Varon looked at him. "You can be anything you want to be. Lowborn or not. That is what I learned."

Varon studied Saelkor’s expression for a second, then spoke again. "You must be wondering how I ended up on the dark lord’s side. After everything."

A look of recognition crossed Saelkor’s face.

Varon shrugged. "It just happened. I saw how the court worked. The same nobles. The same rules. The same divide. I had power. But I was still controlled. Still expected to follow their structure."

Saelkor understood. "You didn’t want to be controlled," he said.

Varon shook his head slightly. "I wanted more. And the Dark Lord has many desires. He offered something different. I have more to gain than I ever did from the Royal house."

Saelkor frowned. "Destruction?"

"Change. A world where the system breaks. If I help him fulfill his purpose to plunge this world into darkness, then everyone would be equal. No nobles. No lowborns. No enslaved people. Just people. All the same."

Everything made sense to Saelkor all at once. The grudge Varon carried was not just against the lord who had tortured him. It was against the entire system that had made that lord untouchable for so long. Against the Royal house that had not acted quickly.

A knock came at the door.

"Come in," Varon said.

The door opened. One of the captains stood in the doorway, and he bowed his head.

"My lord, the boys have arrived." He said.

Varon looked at Saelkor. "Do what needs to be done."

The general met his gaze, understanding passing between them without many words.

Saelkor rose from his chair. He bowed to Varon, then turned and walked toward the door. The captain stepped aside to let him pass, then followed, pulling the door closed behind them.

Varon remained seated at the table. He reached for the sealed, tiny scroll on the table.

"Time to act."

He stood up and went to the window.