The Eccentric Entomologist is Now a Queen's Consort Chapter 309 The Price of Influence

Mikhailis chuckled. "Oh? Is that a complint?"

He smirked but didn't push further. The truth was, Rodion was right. He wasn't looking to amass a cult of mindless thralls; he just needed tools—tools that could be used and discarded as necessary. And now that they understood how Hypnoveil's evolution functioned, they had to be extrely careful with deploynt.

His mind was already racing through potential counterasures. Stronger-willed individuals would resist over ti, which ant that a high-ranking enemy with strong ntal discipline could break free, or worse—identify the parasite and seek ways to counter it. He'd need contingencies.

But before he could dwell too much on that, Rodion's voice cut through his thoughts.

Mikhailis exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders as he leaned back in his chair. "The big guy, huh?" His fingers tapped idly against the wooden table. "Alright, hit ."

That made Mikhailis frown slightly. He had suspected as much, having watched glimpses of the battlefield footage through the Chira Ants' surveillance. The way the Technomancer forces moved under his presence had been unnatural—too rigid, too obedient, as if shackled by sothing unseen.

"Go on."

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Mikhailis narrowed his eyes. "A psychological aura?"

Mikhailis considered that for a mont. If the Enforcer had a power that actively weakened the will of those around him, it would explain why the Technomancers had remained so organized despite their fractured chain of command. No ordinary commander could maintain that level of control amidst chaos.

He drumd his fingers against the desk. "So, we're talking about sothing that isn't just fear—it's willpower suppression."

Mikhailis let out a low whistle. "That's dangerous as hell. Soone who doesn't need to fight because their opponents just… stop trying?" He smirked, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Yeah, no thanks."

That caught Mikhailis's attention more than anything else.

He had seen blind loyalty before. He had fought fanatics, cultists, and soldiers who were too devoted to their cause to see reason. But this sounded different.

"You're saying it's not just fear of him, it's sothing deeper?"

Mikhailis clicked his tongue. "A mind-control effect, but subtle. They don't realize they're being manipulated."

Mikhailis leaned forward, resting his chin on his fist. "That's not a battlefield commander. That's a damn warlord."

He sighed. "Alright. What's the counterplay?"

Mikhailis smirked. "Don't worry, I have no plans to throw myself at an overpowered enemy just yet." He stretched his arms, shaking his head. "We'll keep our distance."

Mikhailis sat up straighter. His usual playful deanor faded just slightly, his eyes sharpening. "The scout's report?"

Mikhailis's grin widened. "So, we turned them into their own worst enemies. Beautiful."

Mikhailis's grin faded slightly. He had anticipated this conclusion but hearing it confird made it more real, more pressing. "What did we find?"

He leaned forward, elbows resting on the worn wooden desk of his rented room. The candlelight flickered, casting long shadows across the space. His mind was already fitting the puzzle pieces together, but he wanted to hear it in full.

Rodion didn't hesitate.

Mikhailis exhaled slowly, his fingers steepling. "So, they're the ones behind the poisoned lands?"

Mikhailis narrowed his eyes. That aligned with what he had observed. The mist hadn't spread in chaotic waves or irregular patches like natural blight would. Instead, it hovered with a strange precision, dense in certain locations but lighter in others. Soone was controlling it.

"If the mist persists, Serewyn and its surrounding territories will remain dependent on the Technomancers for survival," he murmured, thinking out loud.

Mikhailis leaned back, rubbing his chin. His eyes darkened. "They're ensuring that only they hold the cure."

Mikhailis scoffed. "Clever bastards. So, they're starving the people just enough to keep them weak and reliant, but not enough to make them desperate enough to rise up."

Mikhailis clicked his tongue. "They're playing the long ga."

Mikhailis shut his eyes for a mont, processing. He had suspected the Technomancers were involved in the mist's spread, but he hadn't expected it to be this thodical. He had assud it was a defensive asure, a deterrent against invasion. But no—this was sothing worse.

This was control.

His fingers tapped against the desk rhythmically. "Then that ans… if we were to remove the mist, we wouldn't just be helping the people—we'd be cutting the Technomancers off at the knees."

Mikhailis smirked. "Then we find out, don't we?"

Rodion hesitated for a fraction of a second—sothing that, despite being an AI, he sotis did when anticipating Mikhailis's reckless tendencies.