Chapter 232 – Preparing for the Evenhart Duchy's War
Nikolaus Wolves:
I had been drowning in my own torment for days. Sleep had become a cruel joke—I could barely manage an hour before waking up, nervous and restless. The tension in my chest grew with each passing moment, like a rope being stretched to its breaking point. We had all gathered in my fortress, and the despair was etched on every face. The air around the dining table was heavy, suffocating, thick with fear and uncertainty. No one touched the food, and the few words spoken were hollow, directionless.
"They can't trace that assassin back to us, right?" asked Baron Franklin, his voice trembling with obvious distress. "For years, we've cooperated too much in this duchy… there's no way they can connect us to the assassin. Right?"
I said nothing. I didn't want to answer, and honestly, I didn't know what to say. My mind was lost in dark thoughts as my eyes wandered over the anxious faces of the other nobles. The oppressive silence hung like a noose.
"This has ruined everything!" Count Laurence suddenly exclaimed, his voice dripping with frustration. He slammed his hand on the table, making the wine glasses tremble. "Why did that damn assassin go after the duchess? I've been living in hell ever since I found out the plan to kill the boy had failed! For a while, things seemed to calm down, and I decided to move on. I swore I'd never get involved in anything like this again."
My temples throbbed with a growing headache, and my leg shook uncontrollably under the table. I had no patience for their petty arguments. We needed a plan, something concrete, but I was paralyzed, consumed by a mix of fear and frustration.
My hand trembled inside my pocket, clutching the black stone I had been carrying recently. It was an amulet that promised answers—or at least some direction. But at that moment, it was as silent as the room around me. The Illuminated Ones… they had always been like this. They appeared sporadically, offering small hints and solutions before vanishing again, leaving me alone to face the chaos. They had helped me overthrow my father and brother, eliminating them without raising suspicion. With their aid, I rose as the head of the Wolves family. One day, they promised, I would be the next duke. But now… now I was here, trapped in a hell with no way out.
"You don't understand…" I murmured, breaking the silence. My voice was low but firm, drawing everyone's attention. "We're not just dealing with the possibility of being discovered. We're facing a force that could destroy everything we've built."
The others looked at me, confused and fearful. I didn't know if those words were meant to convince them or myself. Deep down, I knew ruin was looming.
It was my fault! They helped me after the war, but then that heir appeared, and they told me to wait for the right moment. The moment when the great conflict would come, and I could take over. I would have power beyond anyone's imagination. I had seen what they were capable of… and I thought everything would work out, even if I rushed things.
I didn't know how to find them, the others who served them. They had always been the ones to contact me, never the other way around. And now, with chaos approaching, I was desperate. I needed a solution, but I couldn't see a way out. The weight of my choices was suffocating me.
My eyes turned to the nobles before me. They argued fervently, their voices loud and panicked. They threw out hypotheses, desperately trying to come up with a plan. But their words were hollow, the desperation of men who knew they were standing at the edge of an abyss.
We had all received the news of the attempt on Chloe Evenhart's life. The kingdom mentioned they had a lead and that the investigation was ongoing.
What lead could they possibly have?
My stomach churned at the thought of the possibilities.
What if that bastard Quinn left something behind before he died?
I couldn't focus on the voices around the table—they blended into an indistinct hum. Fear began consuming me once again. The black stone in my pocket felt as though it weighed a ton. My hand instinctively tightened around it, as if I could wrest an answer from its silence, but silence was all I received.
Help me, my gods. Your servant is begging for your guidance! I recited mentally for what felt like the thousandth time this week, but no response came. They had always said their presence in this world was weak, that our contact would be rare. But now, when I needed them most, there was only silence.
"What do we do now?" The question lingered in the air, breaking the oppressive stillness. One noble murmured it to another, the uncertainty evident in every word. The weight of the situation was nearly tangible, pressing down on everyone like a suffocating shadow.
"They can't connect us to the incident," one suggested, his voice trembling but attempting to sound confident. "There's no concrete evidence. They might blame it on some terrorist or criminal group." He seemed to cling to a fragile hope.
Another noble laughed, but it came out nervous, almost hysterical, smothered by the tension. "Isn't that what we are now? A bunch of criminals funding terrorism to kill that Nathan Evenhart?" His bitter laugh hung in the air, and no one joined him. The truth cut deep, sharper than any blade.
Silence fell again, but now all eyes were on me. They were waiting—for answers, solutions, anything to lighten the crushing weight of the situation. To them, I wasn't just Nikolaus Wolves, the troublesome, addicted son who had once been a burden to my family. I was their savior.
I was the leader who had pulled them out of bankruptcy, the man who had followed the Illuminated Ones' plan and delivered them unimaginable wealth. Under my leadership, they had reached the pinnacle of their generation within their families.
But now I have no plan left! There's only one option... I'll have to do it. My final move.
I met their eyes and sighed internally. I had to follow through with this plan, and they would have to help me—there was no turning back from what we'd done.
"I don't know why that assassin went after the duchess," I began. "I would never order something like that. What I told you is the truth. He stopped contacting me and vanished. I assumed he had taken the advance payment and disappeared. But instead, he chose to act publicly, doing something unthinkable. Now, the entire political nobility knows it was an assassination attempt. Fortunately, what that man did was so random that not even the kingdom will see us as suspects—despite any lingering doubt—for two reasons."
They were attentive, hanging on every word.
"The first reason is that we've faithfully followed the agreement we made with the kingdom's intermediary ten years ago when the heir was recognized. Thanks to our plan, we've acted as model nobles. Even as political agents under the kingdom's thumb in this duchy, we supported Duchess Margaery's actions completely. We didn't even mount the opposition the kingdom instructed us to, which was meant to disrupt her administration and make her dependent on loans and favors. Their plan to further subjugate the duchies after the war went smoothly in other territories. But here, we acted as exemplary nobles. Because of that, not even the kingdom itself has reason to suspect us."
I paused for a moment, and their pleading eyes urged me to continue.
"The second reason is simple: what benefit would we gain from killing Chloe Evenhart? The faction supported by the kingdom was the one trying to marry her in the past. I personally made a deal with the Grand Duke, promising to cede a significant portion of the Forbidden Lands after the marriage, in exchange for them turning a blind eye to the 'accidents' we'd cause—gradually eliminating the royal guards of the Evenhart family and their kin."
I took a deep breath, the memory of the original plan flashing through my mind—how everything would have gone perfectly. I had the kingdom's incentive, the Illuminated Ones' backing, and yet it all unraveled when that cursed heir appeared.
"What advantage would we gain from killing Chloe Evenhart? It doesn't make sense for them to suspect the only faction that wanted to marry her, does it?"
They nodded in unison.
"You have a point," Baron Franklin said, attempting to steady his nerves.
"But still, damn it!" Count Laurence burst out, furious. "The kingdom suggested the political route in the past—forcing the duchess to give her daughter's hand in marriage. They never encouraged assassination. And now, when they find out we were involved, we're screwed. They'll kill us without mercy!"
My fists clenched tightly.
Everything would have worked, damn it! It was me who wanted to push things forward. Damn it all! I had the support of the Illuminated Ones and the kingdom behind the scenes. I even promised I wouldn't mind sacrificing my son in experiments if that bitch Chloe Evenhart had a child with the Special Eyes—and they laughed at the joke.
"There's no way they can connect this to us," Baron Gideon said. "The assassin is dead."
You fools forget about the first two assassins who simply vanished? If they were captured and tortured… if they gave Quinn's name, it could be tied to the duchess's assassination attempt. If they find out the man who died fighting her was Quinn…
My fists were clenched so hard they hurt.
That cursed assassin! I bet he had that damned tooth with his name engraved on it, like in the legends. If they inspect the corpse, even if the bastard didn't reveal his name, the stone with his name will still be there. Damn it!
"There's only one way out of this situation," I said, breaking the tense silence, "considering we're as good as dead if the kingdom supports the Evenharts—and they definitely will."
"What way?"
"War!" I declared, my voice echoing through the room.
They erupted into frantic discussions, nervous voices overlapping.
"Listen to me!" I shouted, silencing them. "If the Evenharts suspect us, they'll retaliate. If they find proof, the kingdom will sentence us to death. If they send even one Inquisitor Mage here, we're done. The only way to survive is to act before the kingdom's investigation concludes. If the Evenharts attack us before the kingdom issues its ruling…"
"Self-defense!" Count Laurence interjected.
"Exactly!" I confirmed. "We'll have the right to defend ourselves against the 'tyrants' who came to kill us. Then we could try negotiating with the kingdom again."
"But what if they don't attack?" Baron Franklin asked, breaking the flow of words with his doubt.
Silence hung in the air for a moment.
"The Evenharts already know," I continued, the gravity of the situation clear in every word. "We're playing a shadow game, and they already see us as guilty. We tried to kill the boy in the past, and now, mysteriously, someone hired a group of assassins to forge an accident to kill him. Of course, they suspect us, damn it! They kept quiet in front of the kingdom and didn't even report the first two assassins. Now, the third assassin attacked the young duchess. Even if it doesn't make sense at first glance, they've already deduced it's us. Either way, we're screwed. They already see us as a threat and will come for revenge."
The silence returned, but this time it was a silence of somber understanding.
"It's kill or be killed. The Evenharts will come for us, seeking blood. And even if they don't, the kingdom, once its investigation concludes, will offer our heads to the Evenharts to secure peace," I said, looking each of them in the eye. "What do you say? Your heads are already on the chopping block—you just haven't realized it yet."
"War!" a noble exclaimed, standing up.
"War!" another echoed, fear replaced by cold determination.
"War! Before they eliminate us. And afterward, we'll use the future Duchess Chloe, once she's the only one left. When she bears a child and we have the Evenhart heir, it won't matter if she dies afterward," Count Laurence added.
"Then prepare your private armies and mages. This duchy is going to war!" I concluded, feeling the weight of every word, knowing there was no turning back from this moment forward.