Chapter 152: "The Kaelrian Blue God!"

Chapter 152: "The Kaelrian Blue God!"

"What's it gonna be, darling? Are you going to tell me your story, or why you need my help?" Bandel Blue's voice was low, almost a whisper, yet it carried a weight that made Tessa pause. She furrowed her brow, hesitating, her eyes darting between the floor and his enigmatic gaze, as if weighing the cost of sharing her burden.

Finally, she broke the silence, her voice laced with frustration and barely contained fury. "I need to rescue my brother. Rhemon has him as a prisoner, and there's no telling what that insane bastard—" she caught herself, her fists clenching, "that messed-up lunatic—is doing to him as we speak."

Bandel Blue tilted his head slightly, his lips curving into a knowing smile. He could see more than just the anger boiling within her—he could see her fear, her desperation. But more than that, he could see something even other Kaelrians couldn't.

"The eggs within you must belong to that Niöhöggr-like Kaelrian… what's his name again?" he said casually, as if commenting on the weather.

The room went still.

Tessa froze, her mouth agape. Her heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, it felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room. This wasn't some wild guess or a ploy to unsettle her. This was prove that he knew, that he could see them.

Even Heziah, who prided himself on his unflappable demeanor, looked visibly shaken. He blinked rapidly, trying to process what he'd just heard. "A Kaelrian… carrying eggs? Are Kaelrians… like reptiles? Amphibians?" he thought, his mind racing with questions, though he wisely kept them to himself.

The most stunned of all was Nyala. Her eyes widened, and her lips parted in a whispered exclamation. "The God's Eyes…" she muttered, her gaze locking onto Bandel Blue as if seeing him for the first time.

Tessa turned sharply to Nyala. "What did you say?" she demanded, her voice low but urgent.

Nyala didn't immediately respond. Her mind was spinning, racing through fragments of old texts and forgotten legends. She stared at Bandel Blue's hands, her voice trembling with awe. "I guess those are the rumored fast hands—or rather, soft hands…"

Heziah had had enough. His patience snapped. "Quit your meaningless yapping and spit it out already! Let the Moon Goddess know what's on your mind!" His voice was sharp, but his curiosity was barely masked beneath his irritation.

Nyala swallowed hard, then cleared her throat. She composed herself, though her hands still trembled slightly. "In one of the most guarded Kaelrian texts, a relic from the Green Rhemonic Shelf, there's a legend… a tale of a Kaelrian god. They called him the Blue God. No one knows why he was given that title, but it's said he was as powerful as Solaris or Lunara."

The sharp intake of breathe and curiosity in the room intensified, and every word Nyala spoke seemed to carry the weight of ancient history.

"The texts speak of his divine gifts," she continued. "The God's Eyes, which see through all illusions, through any barrier or deception. The Soft Hands, capable of drawing out hidden substances no matter how well concealed. And finally, the ability to locate anything hidden, so long as he knows its name."

Nyala's voice faltered, and she cast a sidelong glance at Bandel Blue. "By those descriptions…"

Heziah interrupted, finishing her thought. "He is the Blue Kaelrian God."

All eyes turned to Bandel Blue. For the first time, it was Bandel Blue's turn to be shocked, his smirk faltered. His expression hardened, his piercing gaze flickering with something uncharacteristic—surprise.

"Well," he said after a long pause, his voice quieter but no less commanding. "It seems you've been doing your homework."

Nyala's jaw tightened. "This isn't just some myth, is it?" she asked, her voice trembling with a mix of awe and disbelief. "You're him—The character recorded in the Kaelrian ancient texts"

Bandel Blue didn't flinch. He let the weight of her words hang in the air for a moment before stepping forward, his presence suddenly dominating the room. His voice, low and deliberate, cut through the tension like a blade. "If I were that god," he began, his tone measured, "then you'd understand why I said those who try to attack me are mostly taken care of. The only ones who remain are those bold—or desperate—enough to seek my help."

His confident smirk returned, sharper now, as though the brief flicker of surprise had never existed. The air seemed to shift, heavier, charged with unspoken power.

Tessa swallowed hard, her fists unclenching as her resolve solidified. Her voice was steady, unyielding. "Then help me," she said, her eyes locking onto his. "Help me save my brother."

Bandel Blue's smirk deepened, the curve of his lips carrying an enigmatic weight, as though he held the pieces to a game none of them fully understood yet. His gaze lingered on Tessa, piercing, unreadable. "Very well, darling," he said smoothly, his voice laced with a quiet intensity. "Let's see what we can do about saving your brother."

The room fell silent, the gravity of what lay ahead pressing down on them all.

""However..." Bandel Blue began, his voice sinking to a near-whisper, "there are Rhemon spies among us. If they see me leaving with you, they'll know I've agreed to your terms. This would complicate matters, perhaps irreversibly. So, we must act. Let's stage a scene—one where I appear to reject your proposal outrightly, forcing you to leave in visible disappointment." He paused, his lips curving into a sly grin. "Trust me, this performance will throw them off."

Tessa's sharp gaze flickered between Bandel and her team. They exchanged silent nods, their collective understanding solidifying without the need for words. This was a calculated risk, but one they had to take.

Bandel straightened abruptly, his face contorting into a mask of fury. Without warning, he bellowed, "I am not interested in your ridiculous proposal! Whatever you're offering, take it elsewhere! Get out of my building, or so help me, I'll personally ensure you regret ever stepping foot in here!"

The air in the room seemed to crackle with tension. Bandel's voice reverberated off the walls, carrying the kind of weight that left no room for negotiation. For a moment, the entire building seemed to freeze.

From his corner, the film director nearly leaped with glee. Relief washed over him like a tidal wave, erasing the fear that had been gnawing at him. This confrontation was his ticket out of trouble. Tessa was no longer in Bandel's good graces, which meant she no longer had leverage. He fought the urge to saunter over, smirking, and deliver a few cutting remarks. Not yet, he thought. Patience is key.

Tessa, however, did not falter. Her role demanded subtlety, and she delivered. She allowed her shoulders to sag as though the weight of rejection had crushed her. Her head dipped, and a faint tremor passed through her frame. The performance was flawless. Beside her, Principal Hammond clenched his fists in mock frustration, while Nyala bit her lip as if holding back a retort. Heziah Eric ran a hand through his hair, his face etched with exasperation. Every member of the team committed to the act, their expressions a symphony of defeat.

"Come on," Tessa muttered, her voice heavy with feigned disappointment. She turned slowly, her movements sluggish, as if reluctant to leave.

As they filed out of the large theatre hall, the door swung shut behind them with a hollow thud. Bandel waited until the sound of their footsteps faded, then allowed a smirk to creep back onto his face. The stage had been set, and the spies, if they were indeed watching, had seen exactly what he wanted them to see.