The great hall sank into silence once Gerard departed. Donatien Charlemagne sat enthroned, half his form veiled in shadow, his expression unreadable.
"Your Majesty, is sothing the matter? Do you require another prophecy?"
Royal Astrologer Selene erged from a side chamber and bowed respectfully to the monarch. Yet her relationship to the crown seed to have grown sowhat strained.
"What's going on with the Church of Dragonkind? How could its cultists have perished on such a large scale? Are there issues that may affect our future plan at large?"
Donatien repeated the troubling news Gerard had delivered. Such bizarre deaths warranted extre caution.
"It was the aftershock of a greater upheaval that will not affect your designs. Do not concern yourself, Your Majesty. If I foresee aught that might imperil your royal aims, I will inform you at once."
Selene's tone was as reverent as ever, yet her warning not to pry was rather abrupt.
"Tell ," Dolon pressed, his brow furrowed, restrained anger underlying his words. "What is the truth of these creatures we have allied with?"
"..."
"...As you command. Your will is my compass."
After the faintest pause, Selene bowed more deeply.
"Very good."
His expression eased. The flicker of wrath lted swiftly. He was satisfied with her submission.
"You may regard them as offshoots of a higher being. Their bodies are their own, but the minds that fill them—the consciousness that drives them—was wrought and placed there by that great existence.
"That being later relinquished its control, leaving them to grow freely. In ti, they beca what you know as the Church of Dragonkind.
"But now, the presence that fashioned their consciousness has utterly vanished. With its power gone, the minds collapsed, leaving only hollow shells behind."
Selene's tone was casual, but the identity of that "higher being" was self-evident.
"A being with such power does not simply vanish. What else do you know? Speak."
Donatien Charlemagne seized upon the implications at once.
"You are aware of the collapse of the Tidewall, Your Majesty. The two events are intertwined. Yet the nature of that barrier is such that you could not truly comprehend it without being a practitioner of wizardry."
Her words were cool and evasive.
"So be it. Answer this: what else have you foreseen about our plan to eradicate the Nightblades?"
This ti, Donatien did not press further. He let her deflection pass.
"The stars reveal no further signs. That silence ans little will change. All proceeds within the bounds of your and Gerard's design. With several legendary champions at the crown's command, do you truly fear an organization whose greatest strength lies in a handful of grand knights?"
Selene's lips curved faintly, her tone serene.
"Indeed. Still, I remain wary of the Nightblades' faith—the God of Light, and the other, that deity of the night. The incarnation of the God of Terror was destroyed by the God of Light, yet that deity of the night has never moved openly. Divine might cannot be accounted for in any plan."
Donatien Charlemagne relaxed. Selene had confird that nothing would go wrong with his plan to take down the Nightblades. His greatest concern at the mont was divine inervention. Selene was learned with such matters. After all, she was the one who had initially proposed the use of the 'Corpse of the End' against the God of Terror.
"You may be at ease, Your Majesty," Selene replied. "The God of Light's conditions for intervention are exceedingly strict, the product of the Church of Light's faith. As for that deity of the night, she has no true ans of direct assault. Her interference will be indirect at best.
"Though these gods may be far stronger and harder to kill than you imagine, they too are far easier to influence. Be not afraid. Even should an accident arise, I will show you the way to overco it."
Her smile deepened as she spoke. Upon his throne, Donatien showed no displeasure.
"Very well. Then let the plan advance. So long as I sit upon this throne, there will always be a place at my side for you."
He lifted a hand, signaling her dismissal.
"Yes, Your Majesty. I ask only that you remain upon that throne. So long as you reign, none in Aleisterre will threaten you."
She bowed. Her tone was steeped in quiet pleasure, one that bore no resemblance to Gerard's fervent delight.
"Of course. Once the Nightblades are erased, the crown will rule unchallenged. Then I will strip from the four border dukes the power that should be mine by right. My rule shall beco seamless and iron-clad.
"All you need do is guide toward that end. You counseled to excise the Ryder heir, and I heeded you. For that, you shall have my trust. Do not fail ."
"As you wish. All will proceed according to plan."
Selene lifted her gaze. Her eyes shone like the night sky itself as she beheld Donatien Charlemagne's shadowed form.
Indeed, none of the events that had recently transpired would affect the ongoing plan. In so sense, they would even serve to drive the sche forward.
anwhile, Charles lay sprawled in his office in the Nightblades' headquarters in the capital, buried beneath an ever-growing mountain of paperwork.
Though his expression was one of utter misery, he still applied himself diligently to the task of reviewing reports, issuing orders, and shuffling personnel.
"Blu, there's a wizard by the western district who seems close to a void breakdown. Take a squad there ahead of ti and minimize the damage he causes."
As though suddenly struck by a thought, Charles lifted his head and swiftly issued an order to one of his officers, directing him to dispatch a Nightblades squad stationed in the west to handle the impending disaster.
"Understood."
The middle-aged officer looked up and activated the magitech communicator. He relayed the information Charles had sohow obtained in advance, though no one quite knew how.
These sudden commands no longer surprised the Nightblades. Among those in certain circles, it was well known that the Ryder family possessed the power to sense fate itself. And Charles, heir apparent to the family, manifested this ability with singular clarity.
Clicking his tongue, Charles muttered, "Tch. Why is there so much trouble all at once? A noble in the central district is about to be assassinated—a viscount. Looks like a vendetta. Intervene and uncover the truth behind it."
He paused, pen hovering again. "And the sewers—a strong shapeshifter from the Forest of Beasts has smuggled itself into the city with a caravan. I'll mark the area. Have the city guard handle it."
Each ti the enchanted steel pen stilled across the page, another seemingly unrelated fragnt of information quickly popped up.
"Wait, there's more. What now? Looks like internal conflict among the city guard. Damn it, they're bringing strategic weaponry into the streets! The death toll could be enormous. Have Gilbert lead the squad. Go with the usual people he trusts."
Charles had been just about to return to his paperwork when he frowned sharply. The sheer number of incidents today far exceeded his expectations. Without hesitation, he assigned the matter to Gilbert, a veteran who could always be counted on when the stakes were high.
"...Hm? And who are these two?"
Charles' gaze pierced the subterranean levels of the Nightblades' headquarters. Two figures were walking straight into the Nightblades' stronghold. The guards and rank-and-file mbers rely inclined their heads as the strangers passed, making no move to hinder them.
Up until now, Charles had been so focused on the obvious crises that he had paid these seemingly unremarkable arrivals no mind. But now...
"What are you doing?"
Charles' frown deepened as Blu suddenly acted, raising up and activating a crystal etched with intricate runes. In an instant, alarms shrieked through the entire headquarters. Heavy gates slamd down with a resounding boom.
"I do not know who those two intruders are," Blu replied in a flat, emotionless tone. "His Majesty never authorized any envoys to enter. Their identities are undoubtedly suspicious. We cannot let them escape. I am locking down headquarters so that our forces can deal with them."
Blu was calm—too calm. And the implications of his words were far too dire.
"Well said," Charles spat out, his face twisted with scorn. "But this little lockdown doesn't seem to like it was ant for them at all."
His sneer could not mask the danger he felt encroaching upon him.
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