Chapter 84: The architect of ruin
Princess Louis—or rather, a figure loosely disguised as a commoner—moved through the serpentine alleyways that snaked beneath the grand walls of the Seraphim capital. The scent of stale refuse and cheap ale was a far cry from the royal perfumeries she was accustomed to, yet she moved with practiced stealth, her features hidden within the deep hood of a black, coarsely woven cloak. The anonymity was a necessary relief, the dark fabric clinging to her like a secret.
She stopped before a dilapidated warehouse door marked only by faded symbols of a long-dead trade guild. Her gloved hand tapped the wood: tap-tap, pause, tap-tap-tap, pause, tap-tap.
A narrow peephole scraped open, revealing a suspicious, bloodshot eye. When the eye recognized the distinct, if heavily cloaked, silhouette, the tension eased slightly, and the heavy bolt retracted with a dull, protesting groan.
As Louis slipped inside, the door immediately shut, plunging her into the dim, humid air of the cramped room. Around a flickering lantern sat a mix of tense faces: demi-humans with hidden claws and human rebels, all united by their shared hatred of King Valerius and the tyrannical Prince Luiphonia.
"The princess is here," someone whispered, the reverence in the voice sounding profoundly out of place in this den of revolution.
Louis pulled back her hood, her expression resolute, and walked toward the largest man in the center. He was a veteran of countless forgotten skirmishes, evidenced by the leather eye-patch covering his left socket and the network of scars etched across his tough, weathered face.
"Hyugo," she acknowledged, her voice low.
Hyugo, the leader of this desperate faction, straightened, his large hands resting on the hilt of a worn claymore. "Princess. The preparations. We stand at roughly six hundred loyal men. Are they enough? I have doubts."
Louis smiled—a genuine, almost unsettlingly happy expression that seemed to illuminate the dark room. She reached out, grasping Hyugo's calloused hand, her youthful energy contrasting sharply with his weary strength.
"Everything is sorted, permanently. We have help," she declared, the word 'help' carrying the weight of a monumental, terrifying secret.
Hyugo's one eye narrowed skeptically. "Huh? What do you mean, 'sorted permanently'?"
She leaned in, her eyes glinting with a dangerous excitement. "Do you recall the incident in the Kingdom of Lurtra, months ago?"
"Lurtra..." Hyugo mused, slowly. "If I recall, that was the massacre. The entire royal family and the majority of the old nobility, wiped out overnight."
"Yes, that one."
"What does a bloody regicide in a distant land involve our coup?" he asked, suspicion now mixing with confusion.
Louis let the silence hang for a dramatic beat. "The man responsible for that very event is here, in Seraphim, and has agreed to join us."
A collective, sharp gasp sucked the air from the room. Hyugo's mouth fell open, his voice barely a rasp. "You mean...?"
"Yes," Louis confirmed, her smile turning predatory. "Leornars, the White Plague, is in Seraphim kingdom and has taken us under his wing."
A wave of astonished chatter erupted, quickly suppressed.
"I heard he liberated Vurnam city from the Demon Lord of the South and unified the independent city-states back into Lurtra. Now he's annexed the whole thing into his new nation, Avangard," one rebel murmured, awestruck.
"Truly amazing. He's efficient," another breathed.
"I suppose I can't expect less from the Prophesied King," Hyugo conceded, a grudging respect in his tone. "So, when are we meeting this—"
A cold dread, sharp and sudden, filled the air, cutting the excited noise instantly. The single lantern seemed to dim as a patch of shadow beneath Princess Louis's feet deepened, pooling like oil.
From this unnatural darkness, a figure materialized, standing silently and gracefully. It was a woman with spectral silver hair that seemed to absorb the meager light and piercing red eyes that glowed faintly, a horrifying resemblance to the features attributed to Leornars himself.
"Greetings, ladies and gentlemen," Zhyelena said, her tone calm, quiet, and profoundly unsettling. It was the voice of a deep winter night.
Several rebels instinctively drew blades and bows, but before they could move, Hyugo's large hand shot up, silencing them with a fierce, absolute gesture.
"Don't!" he commanded, his eye wide with sudden realization.
"But boss—" a young demi-human started.
"Don't be stupid," Hyugo hissed, his gaze fixed on Zhyelena. "The second you twitch, she would have killed all of us. If you have any knowledge of true power, you'll know she's far stronger than this room combined." The bitterness in his words was heavy with fear.
"Ooh, I see you understand where you stand, little human," Zhyelena said, a hint of something cold and amused in her expression.
"And who exactly are you?" Hyugo finally asked, turning his gaze back to Princess Louis, who stood frozen in a mixture of awe and fear—she had not expected this dramatic entrance.
Zhyelena's silver head tilted. "The name I was bestowed by my Lord and Ruler is Zhyelena. I am the Second Servant and the personal bodyguard of the King of Avangard Kingdom, Lord Leornars Servs Avrem." Her tone shifted, becoming gentle yet filled with profound, chilling pride.
"So, the Plague knows about us," Hyugo stated.
"Yes. He's been aware for a long time. Ever since he took one of this kingdom's retainers, he began his investigation on Seraphim—all its secret networks and its true leaders. And I was granted the prestige, the honour, of being the instrument to settle this business."
Hyugo stared, then suddenly threw his head back and laughed—a loud, hollow sound. "My, my, aren't you the former Princess of Lurtra, the same one Leornars—"
Zhyelena's red eyes flashed, an icy, lethal glare shooting out. The laughter died in Hyugo's throat.
"It is Lord Leornars, not Leornars. You are not his peer, nor his equal. You should truly know your place," she corrected, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "I was a princess until he gave me meaning and a purpose. Now I am an undead assassin class, known across the continents by the name: The Keeper of Silence."
The rebels fell into an absolute, breathless silence. The name was known, whispered with terror among mercenaries.
"So, what does King Leornars want from us?" Hyugo finally asked, his voice stripped of all amusement, now hard and determined.
"You follow the plan he has created. It is swift and merciless to the Seraphim crown and throne, executed in a way that no one will intervene." She produced a tightly folded piece of parchment from the sleeve of her cloak and gave it to Hyugo.
Hyugo unfolded it, reading the meticulously detailed notes. His eye shifted, running a gamut of expressions: amusement, horror, then finally, a cold, grudging awe.
"Even I wouldn't have thought of this," he murmured, looking up at her.
"And I take it that since you are a former adventurer, you've seen things," Zhyelena said dryly.
"You've dug about me? Terrifying," Hyugo said, folding the document away.
"I am an assassin. My job is infiltration and efficient, swift closure of jobs," Zhyelena replied, matter-of-factly.
"Are you loyal to him?" Princess Louis whispered, needing to understand the nature of this terrifying allegiance.
Zhyelena turned to Louis, her demeanor softening only slightly. "Loyal? I am in debt to him. My life belongs to him. I will kill for him and die for him. That is the moral obligation of all Lord Leornars' subordinates and servants. He is our leader, not merely a boss. And you are now his temporary allies in this coup."
She fixed Hyugo and Louis with a final, chilling stare. "Lord Leornars entrusted the task of the military coup to me. Financial and economic bankruptcy is Stacian's job, as Lord Leornars busies himself with minor lordly tasks—such as the psychological manipulation of the royal family."
"Why are you telling us all of this?" Louis asked, suddenly fearful of the information she now possessed.
Zhyelena smiled, showing teeth that were perhaps a little too sharp. "Oh, I have a clear rule: if anyone here dares turn against the plan, they must be dealt with, and their head presented to the King as a trophy. So know this: Betraying Lord Leornars is suicidal. I will ensure you are dead, silently, and painfully." Her voice was now cold, sharp, and utterly devoid of warmth.
In a lavish but borrowed manor on the outskirts of the capital, Lord Leornars was settled comfortably. He was lying with his head resting in the lap of Stacian, his financial manager, while reading a heavy, leather-bound cookbook. Stacian, with her striking cyan-blue hair and eyes, was quietly knitting a pair of dark gloves.
Julah entered the room, stopping abruptly at the scene. "Uh! Yeah, I thought so. You two really should just get married," she said, exasperated.
Stacian simply looked at her, then back down at her knitting, her eyes glowing faintly. Leornars barely lifted his head from the page.
"How's the commotion outside?" Leornars asked, his voice lazy, as if discussing the weather.
"It's chaotic, sir. I heard something about a market collapse," Julah reported.
"Hmm. Good job, Stacian," Leornars complimented, turning a page.
"Your praise is accepted, Lord Leornars," Stacian replied softly.
"But what did you do? Just three days ago we were talking about the ruin plan," Julah asked, baffled.
Stacian explained without looking up, her needles clicking steadily. "I executed the same principle Lord Leornars used in Durmount kingdom. I subtly bought off all the critical merchants, clearing the markets of essential goods—all the grain, the lumber, and the horses needed for transport. Then, I sold all that stock in Avangard Kingdom, raising our own currency's value by three percent, making it far better suited for trade. The Seraphim economy, having lost its key circulating assets, simply exploded in confusion and desperation."
"I see you've done your research," Leornars said approvingly, finally getting up.
He placed the cookbook down, took the cup of iced coffee Stacian was drinking, and headed for the door. His attire was casual yet opulent: blue trousers, a half-unbuttoned white shirt, a heavy golden necklace, and crimson, dragon-shaped earrings. After a single sip of the cold drink, he placed the cup back down for Stacian to reclaim, and walked out.
Leornars stepped onto the street. The quiet alleys he had walked days ago were now bustling not with trade, but with angry, desperate complaints.
Okay, the plan is going well. I've crippled them financially, now time for the mentally crippling, and I'll be good, he thought, adjusting his collar. First, I need to secure all the remaining slaves and ship them to Avangard. Zaryter and a few others are waiting there to ensure they are fed and housed. Even if this coup fails, I've secured nine hundred more strategies ready.
He walked past a new, brightly colored cloth shop selling Yukatas and Kimonos. "I guess Kurumi Yamauchi is doing a good job. I'm mildly impressed she opened a fourth shop. I suppose I financed a good partner."
His mind drifted briefly. I wonder about this 'Japan' and the 'other world' she speaks of, with its talk of reducing energy cost of magic crystals to 'solar energy.' Whatever. I don't have time for dimensional traveling. I need to secure peace and justice for the innocent right here.
He saw Prince Luiphonia and his new mistress, Diane, across the street, having a casual tea. Leornars simply walked to the opposite bakery, ordered his favorite strawberry cake with hot milk and honey, and sat calmly eating.
"Things are slowly unraveling: Elarian invasion, Durmount's fall, Seraphim's ruin, and Avangard's prosperity. I guess I truly am pragmatic, aren't I," he mused to himself.
"Absolutely, you are, my King," a voice chimed in his mind—Althelia, his AI assistant. "But your actions do look morally gray and unjust, even though they are helping a large number of innocents. You are doing what most ignore."
"And what's that?" Leornars asked, chewing slowly.
"You are giving people what they deserve. You are acting as the necessary evil to keep families together. By ruining Seraphim, you stop a war with Avangard in which casualties would be catastrophic. You really are a good king."
"I guess so. I'm doing what someone needs to do," he admitted.
"And that's what most can't. Being present. You raid slave trading rings, save slaves, and take them to Avangard, making sure they are fed and housed, checking up on them, hiding your actions not to draw attention," Althelia concluded.
"I guess I am."
Zhyelena suddenly emerged from his shadow, bowing low before the table. "My Lord, the coup squad is ready."
"Excellent work," Leornars said, finishing his milk. "I will create a situation that pulls the Royal Knights away from the capital." He summoned his colossal shadow-and-flame wolf, Ascian, which materialized briefly beside him.
"Ascian," Leornars commanded calmly, his voice cold steel. "Attack any merchant cargoes that will be arriving in Seraphim. I'm sure the King is desperately trying to order new products from other nations. I'm closing that route."
He looked at Zhyelena. "He'll be desperate and send the main body of the Royal Knights to secure the routes. As they are away, you and the coup team attack the capital. The King is to be executed. No one touches Prince Luiphonia—he is mine."
He smiled, a dark, self-satisfied twist of the lips. "That is the activist, logical plan. You'll see everything unfold."
"I'll make them regret ever allowing slavery and participating in it," Leornars said coldly, taking the last piece of the strawberry cake he had saved and handing it to Zhyelena.
She took it with an expressionless nod.
"Guess we enjoy the same things, huh?" he added, rising from the table. The next moment, he and Zhyelena vanished, melting into the shadows beneath the afternoon sun.