Kane pushed the door of the inn open and stepped inside the quiet room.

Thora sat up on the edge of the large bed, waiting for him with a warm smile.

Sira’s empty bedroll lay neatly in the far corner, and her belongings were tucked away safely.

"She left an hour ago," Thora said softly.

She read his questioning expression before he could even ask about the missing archer.

"The gate contact?" Kane asked, unbuckling his weapons.

"Yes. She said she would be back before midnight to report."

Kane nodded and sat down on the edge of the mattress.

He let out a long breath while rolling the new information about Firlia and the elven prince through his mind.

The political games in this city were escalating much faster than he anticipated.

A royal heir resorting to blackmail and assassination before the second round even began proved just how unstable the elven leadership truly was.

Thora moved smoothly behind him and started working the tension out of his shoulders without being asked.

She had learned exactly how to read his body language when he needed to think without interruption.

Her soft fingers pressed deeply into his sore muscles, bringing a welcome wave of relief after a long day of sparring and dealing with panicked nobles.

Grieselda sat quietly in her usual spot near the window.

She watched both of them with her calm eyes, offering no judgment or commentary.

The silence between the three of them felt very comfortable now.

It was a stark contrast to the tense, uncertain atmosphere they shared back in the Greenhaven.

After several minutes of soothing quiet, Thora broke the silence.

"The woman from the tournament offices," Thora asked carefully, keeping her hands moving in a steady rhythm.

"She tried to hurt you tonight?"

Kane tilted his head slightly to look back at her.

"You felt that intent through the bond?"

"I felt something sharp," Thora explained, her voice carrying a trace of worry.

"Then nothing. Then you were totally fine, so I knew you handled it."

"She tried to stick a dagger in my ribs," Kane admitted openly because he trusted his women with the truth.

"But she’s going to be very useful instead."

Thora paused her hands on his shoulders for just a brief moment before resuming her gentle massage.

"You attract dangerous women," she observed with a soft, knowing chuckle.

"I collect useful ones," Kane corrected her, closing his eyes to enjoy the massage.

"Dangerous is just a fun bonus."

Thora laughed softly against the back of his neck, pressing a warm kiss right below his hairline.

The wooden door clicked open a moment later.

Sira slipped back inside the room, carrying her new bow slung securely over her shoulder.

She scanned the shadows to ensure they were safe before letting her guard down.

"The contact came through," Sira reported.

"Lothburk is currently staying in the lower district near the east gate. He has four fighters with him who aren’t registered for the tournament at all."

Kane opened his eyes and nodded.

"Muscle. The prince doesn’t want this beastman traced back to the royal box, so he hired unregistered thugs to handle the messy work outside the arena."

"There is more," Sira continued, sitting cross-legged on her blankets. Her fiery eyes looked serious.

"The contact said Lothburk already made a move last night. A beastman from the Ironhide Clan was found bleeding in an alley. He’s resting in the city healers’ ward right now with three broken limbs."

"Who was his scheduled opponent in the quarterfinals?" Kane asked, already knowing the answer but needing to hear it confirmed.

Sira met his gaze directly.

"You."

Silence filled the small inn room.

Thora stopped moving her hands entirely, her fingers resting lightly against his collarbone.

’Of course,’ Kane thought to himself.

The familiar cold clarity of tactical assessment completely replaced the warm intimacy of the moment.

’Prince Aelrindor isn’t just eliminating random threats to thin the herd. He is actively clearing the path all the way to the semifinal slot. That means the prince already looked at the brackets and decided I’m the one fighter he simply cannot afford to face in the grand finals. He wants Lothburk to cripple me in the streets before I ever get the chance to challenge royalty.’

"That is actually very flattering," Kane smiled, leaning forward to crack his knuckles.

"That is terrifying," Sira corrected him, shaking her head at his cocky attitude.

"This mutant has four arms and brings a gang of thugs with him everywhere. He just shattered a seasoned Ironhide warrior like glass."

"It’s the same thing," Kane replied confidently, standing up from the bed to stretch his legs.

"Get some sleep, girls. I need to find Lothburk before he decides to find me first."

"Are you going after him tonight?" Thora asked.

She stood up and crossed her arms, clearly worried about him rushing blindly into a street brawl.

"Tomorrow night," Kane answered, pacing slowly across the floorboards.

"Right after my second round match finishes. I want him to watch me fight in the arena before I meet him in the alleys. I will let him build a picture of my combat style that is slightly wrong."

Sira stared at him in disbelief.

"You want to lure him into a trap by fighting poorly."

"I want to give him enough false confidence to come to me on his own terms," Kane explained, resting his hand on the hilt of his newly forged axe.

"People born with biological advantages tend to get extremely overconfident. That arrogance is the only real opening I am going to get."

He knew from his past gaming experience that Lothburk was a total nightmare in a straight physical brawl.

The beastman used his upper arms to block powerful strikes while his lower arms crushed ribs and snapped kneecaps.

If Kane went into the fight using his normal aggressive style, he would end up just like the Ironhide competitor.

By showing a deliberate weakness in the arena tomorrow, he could bait Lothburk into exploiting a fake opening.

"You are playing a very risky game, Chief," Sira sighed. She unstrung her bow and placed it carefully beside her bedroll.

"If he figures out you are holding back, he will tear you apart."

"That’s why I have to make the performance look convincing," Kane chuckled, stripping off his leather armor.

"I need to take a few hits tomorrow. I need to bleed just enough to make the crowd think I am struggling to survive. The prince’s spies will report everything back to their boss, and Lothburk will think I am an easy target for a late-night assassination."

Thora walked over and helped him unbuckle his chest plate.

Her touch was gentle, but her eyes searched his face for any sign of hesitation.

"Just make sure you come back to us in one piece," Thora murmured.

She pressed her body against his bare chest for a brief, comforting hug.

"We still have more empires to conquer, and I’m not doing it without you."

"I promise," Kane whispered, wrapping his large arms tightly around her waist.

"I’m not going to let some overgrown mutant stop our progress."

He guided Thora to the large bed and lay down on the soft mattress.

Sira pulled her blankets up to her chin, watching him for a few more minutes before her exhaustion finally took over.

Kane closed his eyes, visualizing the precise footwork he would need to fake an injury during his next match.

In the corner of the dim room, Grieselda remained perfectly still.

The mark in the middle of her breasts glowed slightly to match Kane’s breathing.