Lucard entered Gravehold through the side gate before the sky began to darken.
The guards at the gate saw him coming from the old road and quickly looked away. They had already heard too much today. News had moved through the city faster than a horse with fire tied to its tail. The young man in black from House Vardros had killed Dorian Velkhur in front of the Marovain shop. Then he had walked outside the city with two Marovain guards behind him. Now he was returning alone at the front, while those two guards followed him with pale faces and stiff backs.
No gate guard wanted to ask why.
No gate guard wanted to know what had happened outside the city.
Sometimes survival was not about courage. Sometimes survival was about pretending your eyes had become very interested in the wall beside you.
Lucard passed through the gate without stopping.
Orven and Malik followed a few steps behind him. Both of them had dried mud on their boots and sweat on their foreheads. They had not fought much in the forest, but they looked like men who had seen a fight they did not want to remember in detail. Lucard did not look back at them until they reached a narrow street leading toward The Black Lantern Inn.
Then he stopped.
"Go back to the inn," Lucard said.
Orven blinked. "Young Master Lucard?"
"Stay with Jenny and Jake until I return."
Malik frowned slightly. "Lady Celia ordered us to stay with you."
Lucard looked at him.
Malik immediately corrected his words. "I mean, Lady Celia ordered us to protect House Vardros."
"Then protect them."
Orven looked uneasy. "If you go somewhere alone and something happens, Lady Celia will blame us."
"If something happens to Jenny or Jake while you are following me, I will blame you."
The two guards became silent.
That was a much simpler threat. It did not need noble law, Marovain orders, or family reputation. It was only Lucard’s cold voice, and after what they had seen, that was enough.
Malik lowered his head first. "We will guard them."
Orven nodded. "We will not leave their side."
"Good."
Lucard turned away.
Orven hesitated once more. "Should we tell Lady Jenny where you went?"
"No."
Jake had already seen too much. Jenny had already worried too much. Peter was healing, but not fully strong yet. If they knew Lucard was going toward House Ravencroft, they would try to stop him, follow him, or ask questions. All three were useless.
Lucard walked away before the guards could speak again.
Orven and Malik watched him disappear into the city crowd.
After a moment, Orven said quietly, "Do you think he is going to do something dangerous?"
Malik gave him a flat look. "He is awake and walking. That already means yes."
They turned toward the inn.
Lucard moved through Gravehold alone.
His injury was fully closed now. After absorbing the last traces of mana and blood outside the city, his body had used the new strength to heal. Dorian’s fire had disappeared from his chest completely. The burned flesh had repaired. The pain near his heart had faded into only a memory. His clothes were still damaged, but the body under them was no longer weak from the wound.
That was useful.
But level nineteen was still not enough.
One level remained before the Second Blood Circle.
One step.
A single step could decide whether he faced the next enemy as a wounded insect or as something that had begun to sharpen its fangs.
Lucard did not go back to the inn. Instead, he turned into a smaller street. Then he entered a shadowed alley between two old stone buildings. He waited there while a cart rolled past outside. When the sound of the cart faded, he raised his hand and touched the dried blood near his sleeve.
A thin layer of red light moved over his skin.
It vanished a moment later.
Blood Concealment.
It was not a high level spell. In his old life, he would not have even called it a spell. It was more like a small breathing trick of blood and presence. But in this lower world, with his weak body and limited power, it was still useful. His heartbeat slowed. The scent of his blood disappeared from the air. His mana became thin, almost like a tired commoner with no special strength. Even his footsteps became lighter.
He pulled his damaged cloak around his body and stepped out of the alley.
The city no longer looked at him.
A few people passed nearby without recognizing him. One merchant looked directly at him, frowned for a moment, then looked away. To their eyes, Lucard was no longer the bloody young noble who had killed Dorian Velkhur. He was only a quiet black cloaked youth walking through late afternoon shadow.
Lucard moved toward the upper district.
House Ravencroft waited there behind dark walls and old grave trees. The route was familiar now. He had entered that estate once openly as a mocked guest. He had left it as a threat. Now he returned like a shadow looking for the throat of a sleeping beast.
He did not hurry.
Rushing made noise. Noise brought eyes. Eyes brought questions.
He used side streets and broken garden paths. He crossed behind shops, over low walls, and past servant roads. Gravehold’s upper district had more patrols than before. City guards walked in pairs. Ravencroft men watched from some corners. Karswell agents might also be moving, though Lucard did not see them clearly. The whole city was tense because of Dorian’s death.
Tension made people look at the obvious road.
Lucard did not walk on obvious roads.
As he neared Black Raven Manor, the feeling of death magic became stronger. The Ravencroft estate had always carried that smell. Old bones, burial soil, and spells that liked quiet places.
Tonight, the feeling was sharper. Guards stood near the outer walls. More torches had been lit. The gate was watched by twice as many men as before. Some of them looked nervous, which meant they knew something important had happened or was about to happen.