The mansion stood in Ulcea City's noble quarter, its towering facade blending seamlessly with the grandeur of its surroundings. Inside, however, the air was thick with tension. Shadows danced across the walls of a dimly lit chamber, where the Alliance of Blood and Coin—an illicit council of corrupt nobles—gathered in secret.
Around a polished mahogany table, the faces of power whispered their schemes. Wealth adorned them, but unease cut deeper than their pride.
Baron Elric Vauhan broke the silence, his voice sharp and biting. "Terrance Durk is gone. And not in a quiet way. He became a demon—a disgrace that threatens everything we've worked for."
His jeweled hand tapped impatiently against the table, the rhythmic sound grating in the stillness.
Countess Marlisse Aylen leaned forward, her green eyes glinting like blades in the flickering candlelight. "The disgrace isn't the worst of it, Elric. The emperor has seized this as an opportunity to tighten his grip. Leonard Durk's fall is now propaganda—a warning to the rest of us. And those knights?" She scoffed, her disdain palpable. "Rewarded publicly. It's a spectacle."
The room murmured in uneasy agreement.
A low, gravelly voice cut through the murmurs. Lord Tiberius Grath, his scarred face half-hidden in shadow, spoke with measured fury. "You think Leonard's humiliation is the problem? No, the emperor is playing a longer game. His real weapon is that boy—Adrian Falter."
The name was a spark, igniting heated whispers.
"A commoner," Elric spat, his lip curling. "And now a knight? It's an insult to our station. To give someone like him the same title as us…"
Marlisse's sharp laugh silenced him. "It's more than an insult. It's a strategy. He's the emperor's symbol of meritocracy. A rallying point for the commoners. Every time they look at him, they see hope. And hope," she said, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper, "is a dangerous thing."
Tiberius growled. "As long as he breathes, that hope will fester. He threatens everything we've built—our influence, our legacy. He must be dealt with."
The room erupted into argument. Some nobles spoke in hushed tones of caution, fearing the emperor's wrath if Adrian were harmed. Others, more brazen, called for decisive action.
"This isn't just about Adrian Falter!" shouted Elric, his face reddening. "This is about Maximus using him as a pawn to erode our power. We can't let it stand!"
"Enough," Marlisse said, her voice cutting through the din like a blade. The room fell silent as she turned her calculating gaze on the younger noble seated across from her. "Viscount Reynard. You've been unusually quiet. What's your take on this?"
Viscount Reynard Celdain leaned back in his chair, his sharp features illuminated by the flickering light. A smug smile curled his lips. "Killing Adrian Falter outright is foolish," he said, his tone calm but laced with malice. "The emperor would turn him into a martyr. And martyrs have a way of inspiring movements."
He paused, letting his words sink in.
"No," Reynard continued, "we don't need to kill him to get rid of him. We let the empire's enemies do the work for us."
The room leaned in, the weight of Reynard's words drawing their attention.
"Imagine this," Reynard said, his voice smooth. "Adrian is sent on missions—highly dangerous ones. Missions to the uncharted territories, where demons roam unchecked. Every battle chips away at him, draining his strength, his resolve. And if he falls in the line of duty? He's remembered as a brave knight, not a failure. A win for the empire, and a win for us."
A low murmur spread through the room.
Elric's irritation melted into approval. "Clever. Very clever. We frame it as a test of his valor, a chance to prove his worth. The people will praise his sacrifice, and we'll be rid of him."
Marlisse nodded, her lips curling into a sly smile. "And should he survive?"
Reynard's smile widened. "Then we send him on another mission. And another. Even the strongest beacon of hope can burn out."
The nobles exchanged glances, their earlier dissent dissolving into a chilling unity. Reynard's plan was ruthless, calculated, and, most importantly, plausible.
Tiberius folded his arms, his scowl giving way to a dark grin. "If we do this, we need to be careful. The emperor's spies are everywhere."
"Leave that to me," Reynard said confidently. "I'll ensure it all looks legitimate. No suspicion, no loose ends."
Marlisse's gaze lingered on Reynard for a moment before she nodded. "Very well. Make it happen. But remember—if this fails, the emperor will destroy us."
The group fell silent, the weight of their decision settling over them like a shroud.
As the meeting turned to other matters, the room's mood darkened further.
"The demons," Elric said, his voice dropping. "Their activity is increasing. Leonard's transformation wasn't an isolated event."
Marlisse frowned. "The emperor is so focused on consolidating his power that he's blind to the real threat. If the demons strike in force, the empire will be vulnerable."
Reynard smirked. "Let them strike. Chaos weakens Maximus's grip, and chaos is an opportunity for us to rise."
Tiberius's scowl deepened. "And what happens when the demons tear us apart along with the empire?"
Silence fell again, the nobles exchanging uneasy glances. Their unity, fragile as it was, rested on a shared hatred for the emperor—and a growing fear of the demons lurking in the shadows.
* * *
Meanwhile, far from the scheming nobles, Adrian trained under the fading light of the Arvendale sunset. Unaware of the storm brewing against him, he focused on his drills, each swing of his sword carrying the weight of his determination to grow stronger.
His comrades watched from the sidelines, their expressions a mix of admiration and concern.
"He doesn't stop, does he?" Kiera remarked, her staff resting lightly in her hands.
"No," Seraphina replied, her voice soft. "But I wonder if he's pushing himself too hard."
Mohan, standing nearby with his arms crossed, offered a small smile. "Adrian's a fighter. Whatever's coming, he'll face it head-on."
Kael, leaning against a tree with his bow in hand, gave a faint chuckle. "Let's just hope he doesn't face it alone."
As the sun dipped below the horizon, Adrian sheathed his sword and joined his team, a tired but determined smile on his face.
"Ready for tomorrow?" Mohan asked, his tone casual but knowing.
"Always," Adrian replied, his resolve unwavering.
The shadows of the empire were closing in, but Adrian's light refused to falter. Whatever challenges lay ahead, he was prepared to face them.
But even he couldn't see the enemies lurking in the darkness—or the dangerous path being paved beneath his feet.