Chapter 40: A Throne in the Shadows
New Game, New Rules
Jarek had spent his life fighting from the bottom.
Now, for the first time, he stood at the top.
But being at the top meant one thing—everyone wanted to pull him down.
The morning after his meeting with Duke Valric, Jarek, Tobias, and Sylva gathered in a rented safehouse, a small stone building at the edge of Rookhaven.
Maps, letters, and stolen ledgers from the Iron Ravens lay scattered across the wooden table.
"This is what we're working with," Sylva said, tapping a parchment filled with names. "Caden's men—at least the ones still alive."
Jarek glanced over the list. Some names were crossed out, already dead from the previous night's chaos. Others had question marks, their loyalty uncertain.
Tobias stretched in his chair. "So, what's the plan, boss?"
Jarek ignored the title. "Simple. We take control before someone else does."
Sylva raised an eyebrow. "And how do you propose we do that?"
Jarek's grin was sharp. "By making it clear that there's only one way forward. With us—or against us."
Tobias smirked. "Oh, I like where this is going."
Recruit or Remove
The first step was securing the remnants of Caden's empire.
By noon, Jarek and his crew moved through the city, visiting safehouses, hideouts, and underground meeting spots where the surviving Iron Ravens were licking their wounds.
Most of them were still in shock.
Their leader was dead. Their power shattered.
Jarek made them an offer.
Join us, or disappear.
Some swore loyalty immediately. They were opportunists, ready to follow whoever held the strongest hand.
Others?
Not so much.
One of the first defiant ones was a thug named Garrik, a former enforcer for Caden.
He sat in the back of a dingy tavern, surrounded by four nervous-looking men, his meaty hand gripping a tankard.
"You think I'll bow to you?" Garrik spat, eyes filled with resentment.
Jarek just smiled. "Not bow. Just fall in line."
Garrik laughed—right up until Jarek slammed a dagger through his hand, pinning it to the table.
The room went silent.
Jarek leaned in. "I don't have time for games. Caden is dead. His empire is mine now. You have two choices—work for me, or be buried with him."
Garrik gritted his teeth in pain, blood dripping onto the wooden table.
Then, slowly, he nodded.
"Good choice," Jarek said, pulling the dagger free.
The others at the table scrambled to pledge their loyalty.
One by one, the Ravens fell in line.
The Shadow Council
By nightfall, Jarek's inner circle had gathered in an abandoned estate—a former Iron Raven stronghold now under his control.
The room was filled with fighters, thieves, and spies. The new power structure was being built.
At the head of the long table, Jarek leaned forward.
"You're all here because you know what's coming," he said. "Rookhaven is changing. The Iron Ravens are gone. We are what comes next."
Murmurs of agreement.
Jarek continued. "We won't rule like Caden. We won't waste time on petty feuds and backstabbing. We build something better. Stronger."
A man named Varric, one of the Ravens' former lieutenants, spoke up. "And what exactly is that?"
Jarek grinned.
"An empire that doesn't just survive—it dominates."
Tobias smirked. "I like this plan already."
Sylva stayed silent, but Jarek could tell she was watching. Measuring.
Some in the room hesitated.
Change was dangerous.
But fear?
Fear was a powerful motivator.
Jarek leaned back. "I don't need your loyalty today. But if you get in my way? You won't see another sunrise."
The silence stretched.
Then—one by one—the new rulers of Rookhaven nodded.
Old Enemies, New Threats
Taking over the Iron Ravens was just step one.
The real problem?
Rookhaven had other players.
By midnight, Sylva returned with information.
"There are already movements against us," she said, laying down a parchment covered in coded messages.
Jarek scanned them.
Three factions.
1. The Black Knives – A group of mercenaries-for-hire who had operated under Caden but never fully pledged loyalty.
2. The Ashen Brotherhood – A noble-backed syndicate that had long sought to seize control of Rookhaven's underworld.
3. A Phantom Force – A mysterious faction with no known leader, but rumors whispered of something far more dangerous lurking in the city's shadows.
Jarek tapped his fingers against the table.
"They're testing us."
Sylva nodded. "They won't let you take power so easily."
Jarek grinned. "Good. I was getting bored."
A Show of Strength
By dawn, the first strike had been made.
A Black Knives hideout on the outskirts of the city was burned to the ground.
Their leader, a man named Halvar, was found hanging from the city gates, a dagger through his heart—one of Jarek's own.
The message was clear:
Cross us, and you die.
The streets buzzed with fear and excitement.
Jarek Thorn was no longer just a rogue seeking revenge.
He was a ruler.
And Rookhaven belonged to him now.